The “S” on my chest by Kolade Pelumi

The “S” on my chest  #a short story#

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Today is Saturday; I am patiently waiting for Sharon my best friend for about a year now. We had arranged a small party for me to enjoy her company one last time before she finally goes away. I actually can’t fathom why these things happen. It’s sad that CAN*** (it just creeps me out to spell it completely) has finally succeeded in snatching this wonderful creature from our midst. Sharon has been my driving force this past year .It’s hilarious to now think that when Sharon first came into our SS1 class two years ago, I (and the majority of our class) thought she was cocky and proud. I for one did not like her, probably because I felt she had come to steal my place as best in the class. She was very confident in herself but many of us mistook it for being fool of herself. She would look at any maths problem and swing her hair to the left and tell you boldly “I can solve that easily”. She loved to swish her long, black, curly, hair back and forth. How I would miss such lovely hair. 

The battle for best in class (academically) between Sharon and I was tough. I came still came first the first term with Sharon trailing very closely behind me. The second term I received a shocker………. I was third. Even though the gap between the first three was very close (about five marks if I recall correctly). It was disgraceful to me. I, Peter Ade-Coker, third in class and the new girl came first? I was sorrowful. Actually it now feels like I was the proud one. I worked crazy hard the last term, not just because my name and honour were on the line but also, I thought to myself, that proud girl could not take my place. It paid off. I was first overall but Sharon was close as usual, coming second. That moment felt good. I would remember it for years to come.
You must be wondering how Sharon and I finally became best of friends. It baffles me every now and then also. The tale goes thus. It was on this cold Sunday evening, (I remember this vividly because I lay on a chilly floor all night weeping). My dad came to break the tragic news to me. Mum died in an auto-crash. I was broken. I could not concentrate on anything including my studies. I did not care about anything else. I loved my mum (story for another day). I started doing badly in my school work I lost my focus in life. What would never cease to amaze me was that Sharon never heard about my mum’s death, all she noticed was that she had no competition in class any longer. Sharon sat me down to discuss about my decline in academic performance. She listened carefully to me. I slowly narrated my ordeal. (A little ashamed to admit this though) I cried on Sharon’s shoulder. I fell in love with Sharon that day. Not the kind of love all of you are thinking about, by the way what is this world turning to?
I created a strong connection with Sharon from that day. She helped me get through my pain and helped me get through my studies. Of course it was never the same. I came fifth, but without Sharon’s help, last position was calling out to me. Sharon was my muse, she helped me with school work, explained things my mind could not grab in class for lack of concentration. Sharon kept my company and did not make me feel lonely. She filled the void in my heart, she was like super girl. She was the S on my Chest!

And now, CAN*** has come to steal her away from me. I would never have the opportunity to ask Sharon out to the school prom. By the way did I mention Sharon’s beauty? Damn she is beautiful. She is what comes to my mind when I think about an angel. Alright I have been too much of a chicken to spell out that which takes my precious jewel away from me. It’s CANADA alright. There, I said it. Her father finally succeeded in taking Sharon to Canada to complete her education. Now because of that, I would lose my muse.
I am trying to concentrate and enjoy this outing with Sharon. It’s not easy but that’s all I can do for her. I stare deeply into Sharon’s eyes thinking about things I want to say to her but won’t be able to, thinking about the feelings she had awoken in me. Thinking about how much she made me strong. Thinking about how much I love her. Her parents come to pick her up to the airport and I stand to give her one last hug. I hold her closely, secretly wishing I stay there forever. My muse, my strength, the “ S” on my chest is finally leaving me. As she lets go of me she whispers to me something I have craved to hear for sometime now. The only three words she has spoken to me today. She said……+drum roll+…… “I love you”.
After composition, When I went through this story again I noticed you might have thought Sharon had CANCER?………. or perhaps I added this twist on purpose?……….. you might never  know unless of course you follow me on twitter @koladePelumi…………kindly share this article thanks.

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