So, I asked my friends to give me ideas of what to write about and I got an interesting one. Write about the perspective of a girl who just lost her boyfriend. So, that's what I'm going to write about.

As I sat in class, thoughts of that night kept rushing through my mind. I had told him that he should wear a helmet, at least at night. His motorcycle had been on the news. I saw the blood. I was there less than ten minutes after seeing it on tv. His body was nearly unrecognizable, but the bracelet on his wrist couldn't be mistaken by my eyes. The motorcycle was mangled against the pole and his body was flung into the building nearby. The brick had cracked and his body lay destroyed on the pavement. The pool of blood didn't stop me, I collapsed next to his body. The cops nearby tried to stop me, but I screamed and cried for them to let me stay. I told them not to touch the body. I told them that I needed awhile. I was covered in his blood. My pant legs were soaked from where I had collapsed. It was my only pair of jeans. The rest had been torn to shreds. I remember them lifting off of the ground, taking me to the ambulance nearby, and cleaning me up while people cleaned up the body and investigated the crash. News cameras were everywhere. They had captured my incident. The memory was burned into my mind. I couldn't make it disappear. It kept creeping back in and playing over and over again. He had been ready to marry me. I had been devoted to him. I couldn't stand the thought of losing him, yet it had happened.
The teacher called my name, but I didn't hear it. I was too lost in my brain. She walked over to me and tapped me on the shoulder. I snapped out of the daze I was trapped in and looked up to see her worried face. Her eyes were filled with a sense of regret. I could tell she had seen the news and my little outburst. People had tried to get words from me since that day. It had only been three days since the accident. I hadn't taken a day off of school for the fear that I would lose the will to live. I didn't want to disappear. The teacher sent me from the room. She said I shouldn't be in class after such a tragedy and that I could go to the nurse or get some fresh air and that I wouldn't be expected to return. I grabbed my bags and in a haze walked out of the classroom door with everyone watching me. I wasn't embarrassed. I had no reason to be. I had been through a tragedy and everyone, even the principal, knew that I was going through a bad time. I decided finally that I would go and talk to the counselor.
The second that I walked into the dinky office, the secretaries knew what I was there for. I didn't fake a smile, or pretend that I was okay. For once, I actually broke down and cried. They sent me back to the even smaller office. I had never talked to anyone so I wasn't sure how to deal with it. He seemed nice enough with his concerned look and not fake smile. He knew what had happened. He asked me questions and I spilled my guts to him. I nearly barfed from the feeling of letting someone in. I couldn't believe that someone would actually know what was happening to me. I told him that I didn't have suicidal thoughts or anything so medication or therapy wasn't a need. I just needed to tell someone. I needed to get the memories out so that someone knew what was going on in my mind. I explained that I didn't want to go home, but that I didn't want to go to class. He gave me a pass so I could wander and do what I needed to.
I walked through the halls, passing people I knew and didn't. People watched me oddly. I was wearing a skirt, nobody ever saw me in a skirt. I had had no time to buy new jeans or attempt to wash the bloody ones. I had kept them for whatever reason. One of my guy friends walked up to me and didn't say a word. He just walked next to me. He knew no words were needed, I just needed someone there. He ditched his last classes of the day to be there for me. We sat by a tree and I wrote, he watched me nervously. Everyone was expecting a mental breakdown, but I wasn't the type. He knew that. Then all of a sudden tears ran down my face and I was incapable of stopping them. He held me and stroked my hair. I kept crying for about a half an hour. He was still there when I needed him though. I curled up next to him and he held me there until the bell rang. He then picked me up and carried me and our stuff to his car. He drove me home in silence.
I didn't want to be alone so he stayed with me, watching movies and listening to music. His mom called several times, but he didn't answer. He was going to get in trouble and I told him he should probably leave, but he never did. He knew I needed him. My mom was out of town. This was her house. My dad lived in another state. I didn't see much of him. So he decided he was going to stay with me until my mother got back. He made me tea and I curled up in his lap until I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was still in his arms. He was sleeping sitting up. He didn't care. I knew that. I got up and made myself more tea. I washed my face and fixed my hair. I looked terrible. Crying and sleeping afterwards don't mix well. He woke up while I was washing my face and made himself coffee.
I went and curled up on the couch again. I wasn't sure what to feel. I had cried for almost three hours straight because everything reminded me of my loss. I decided, after only four days, that I needed to get over him. I was a strong individual and it was a need not a want. I pushed aside the fact that I had lost my one true love and decided it was time to forget what I had lost and remember what good it was when I had him. The life I had had with him was amazing. The life after him should still be amazing. If I remembered what was good in this life and not what was bad I could get through it. By having that mentality I was ready to do what I needed.
I took a shower. Got dressed in another skirt and went to the stores. I bought new clothes, shoes, anything to get my mind away from my loss. My guy friend watched me do all of this confused. I had gone from crying for hours on end to shopping. How could I bounce back so quickly? The truth is, I didn't. I simply let my heart lead me to what I needed to do instead of letting my sense of grief carry me through my days.