Here is the third Chapter. I know I took even longer to write this one but I have not had much of a chance to work on it. I can honestly say that this chapter is not that great. Sorry to all of you who were looking forward to some interesting reading. I promise to make it up to you in Chapter Four. Like I said before, if you find that you like it then just click below to go on to the continuation, since I am unable to fit the whole story on one page.
I am currently working on a Fourth Chapter and it will be finished very shortly. I will be putting it up after enough time has gone by when I am sure that everyone who wanted to read the Third Chapter, has already.
For those of you who did not get a chance to read the first two chapters and would like to, then just e-mail me with your request and I will promptly send you a copy.
A Word Of Warning
This story was written the way it appears because of the rules of the contest. I don't want to sound biased but I am not sure as to how some of you males will respond. It is rather girlish. But if you feel an urge to read it then by all means, please do so. Also, this story is completely fiction. Any similarity to reality is purely coinicidental. You may copy this story and store it in your hard drive or whichever you prefer, to read later but you cannot display it on your own web- site or use this story anytime in the future as your own. Please do not alter or change this story in any way, shape or form without my consent. Thank you for your cooperation. (The title was part of the contest rules for those who may be curious)

Copyright 1997 by April D., All Rights Reserved
APRIL COME SHE WILL CHAPTER THREE By April D.

My bedroom became my solitude of grief for weeks after the funeral. The curtains were always drawn tightly. I would allow no light to enter my soul. I would stare for hours at what others thought was nothingness, but in actuality I would be seeing myself and Andrew together as it should have been. I saw us together lying on a beach on our honeymoon. We drank fruity drinks and slept in one another's arms on the soft, warm sand. I pictured us together in our new home, decorated to suit our tastes to perfection. I would clean and cook for him. Always something new and delicious. We would stare at each other across the table, sipping wine and smiling in the soft glow of candlelight. I even saw us together intimately. Him stroking my hair and telling me over and over how much he loved me. I staring into his eyes dreamily and enjoying the softness of his body next to mine. Feeling safe, secure, and loved. When I tried to explain to my mother that I wasn't just seeing us together, that I was actually feeling it, she became sad. She kept telling me that it wasn't real, it was unhealthy. "But it is real!" I shouted at her, angrily. "No it isn't." She replied back, firmly. I knew that at that point she was becoming upset. My mourning had gone on long enough. She was afraid for me. "It is!" I insisted. "I can feel him. He speaks to me. He is alive and he wants to be with me. He still loves me." I started to cry. "He never left me. It was all a lie. An evil lie." "Kristin," she began, trying to fight off tears. "He is gone. You are going to have to accept that. I believe that yes, he does still love you. But, he will never be with us again. Only in here." She pointed to her heart. "And here," she finished, pointing to her temple. "You will always have your memories. But this, this imagining that he is here right now isn't right. You have to stop this, before you make yourself ill." "I can't. I try so hard but I can't. I am in so much pain, Mom. I have to make it go away. This is the only way that I can make it go away. I need him. I can't let go. Never!" I punched the mattress hard, feeling sad and angry at the same time. My insides in turmoil. My head swarming with pictures and words that I couldn't make out. Was I going crazy? She placed her hands around me, holding me tightly. "I know, I know," she soothed. "It is so hard. The pain has to go away on it's own, Kristin. You can't force it away." "It's not fair! He promised me he would never leave me. He promised! You can't break a promise like that. I am so angry at him for that!" I stopped. "No, no, I take that back. I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I'm not angry. I didn't mean to get so mad." I looked at my mother. "It wasn't his fault was it?" My eyes large, filled with tears. "No. It wasn't." She said softly. "Then whose? Whose fault was it? Please tell me." I begged. "It -- it wasn't anyone's fault. It was just an accident. A terrible accident. One that should never have happened. Remember that." "I try. But, I can't ever forget the man I loved. My one and only love has left me forever." I turned to her with a new thought. "How will I live? I can't -- I can't live without him, Mom. I just can't." I choked on my words as the tears came faster. "Yes you can. You will live to do all the things you have planned for yourself. No matter what, I won't let you give up. Do you understand me? You will not give up!" Her voice was growing louder as she stared into my eyes firmly. "I refuse to allow you to throw your life away like that. You are a strong woman. You always have been. You have gotten through every impossible obstacle that has been shoved in your path, you will get through this as well. "Look honey, I know you love him and you two had something together that should have lasted a life time. But, there are other things that are here for you. Don't feel as though your life is over. You have so many things to look forward to. So many people love you. I love you so much. You are my daughter, my darling. Julie loves you, Cynthia loves you. Robyn, Lisa . . . so many others. If you left us, think about how we would feel? You may not be thinking of committing suicide, but you lying here day after day isn't good for you. You can make yourself sick; sick enough to have to be put into a hospital. I don't want that and I know that deep inside you don't want that either. Life is for the living, and I want you to live it as best as you possibly can." She leaned over to hug me again. I hugged her back, tightly. "I love you, too, Mom. So, very much. I am so sorry I am hurting you. I just feel so much pain. I can't bear it any longer." "I know you can't. Unfortunately, you don't have a choice right now. Believe me when I say, that it will go away. You won't ever forget Andrew but you will be able to go on. Trust me, I know." "Is this how you felt when my father died?" I asked her in a whisper. She paused for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes. "Yes." She said, truthfully. "Yes it was. So, I know how you are feeling because I was in the same situation you are in. I thought life was over for me too. I buried myself under my blankets for the longest time. I wouldn't talk to anyone. I was heartbroken and angry too. I was mad that your father left me and guilty because I felt that way. All I could do was think of all the �what if's?' What if I hadn't made him stay with me that night, would he still be alive? I even thought about what if he had never met me. He would probably be still alive right now. I beat myself up for days. I kept blaming myself. I was so lost and alone and even afraid." She looked at me, sadly. "So, yes, I know what you are feeling and I know that it does go away." I didn't know what to say. All I had were questions. She had never really spoken to me about my father's death. I wanted to know what their love had been like and how he had died. But, I didn't dare ask. I didn't want to upset her and I also knew that if I had the details at that moment that I would feel even worse. No, I wouldn't ask her now, I would ask her later. If I ever did come to the point where the pain would go away. We sat on my bed together for what seemed like hours but was in fact only a few minutes. Finally my mother stood up and reached her hand out to mine. "Come," she said, smiling. "The sun is shining; it's a beautiful day. Let us go and make the most of it." Memories of Andrew quickly came rushing back. I had almost decided to take her up on her offer and say I was going to go and call him and make plans when I remembered. "I ca . . can't." My words stumbled and wavering. "Soon. Just not right now." "Kristin -" She began. "Please, Mom. A little bit longer. That is all I need. I just need a few more days. I feel a little better though. I swear I do. I just need a little while longer." I was practically pleading with her. She placed a delicate finger on my cheek. "Alright. You can have a few more days, but I want you to start eating, young lady." Her words taking on the orders of her regular old self. I smiled, thinly, despite my sadness and nodded. "Okay. I will." "Fine. I am going to make you something to eat now. You have strict orders to at least try to eat everything." She turned and walked away, disappearing into the dimly lit hallway. When she was gone completely I climbed out of bed. I made my way slowly to the window, holding on to furniture because my head was swimming. I hadn't been out of my bed in almost a month, except to use the bathroom. I grasped the curtains tightly in my fists, my hands shaking. It was going to be hard. I hadn't wanted to see the sun or outside because I couldn't imagine everything going on as it had as if nothing had happened. For some reason I thought that the world should stop moving because Andrew was dead. Everyone should be feeling as sad I felt. I opened them slowly, closing my eyes tightly against the harsh glare of the bright sunshine. I stepped back a little as though the window were evil. Then I slowly opened my eyes. I had almost forgotten how beautiful spring was. The trees were all in bloom, flowers and fruit growing off each and every one of them. Our garden looked as wonderful as always. I could almost smell the roses that grew along the side of the house. Oh, how I wanted to reach out and touch them. I wanted to go downstairs and walk in our garden and smell the sweet smell of honeysuckle. I wanted to hear the birds sing, but I stopped. I wasn't ready yet. How could I enjoy all this beauty when Andrew was shut up in a box somewhere under the ground? With this thought in my head I quickly closed the curtains and hurried back to bed to embrace him in my dreams again. During the next few days, the pain in my chest slowly began to subside. It never did go away completely, but I did begin to feel better. Although Andrew was on my mind every second of the day, I began to think about other things that had always been important to me before. Like school and my mother and my future. My mother and I both discussed school. I had had only one semester left to finish, but we agreed that I still was in no condition to go back. I decided to continue my last term in September. It would mean having to start everything that I had learnt from January to March all over again, but I didn't care. Even though I was getting better, I still did not have the strength for that much concentration. It was a Friday afternoon when I finally decided to go outside. Actually to go downstairs again even. I had risen early but had lain in my bed for awhile debating over whether or not I should try to venture downstairs. I made a list of pros and cons in my head. The pros outweighing the cons by more than 10 to 1. After lunch I rose slowly and took a shower. It had been a long time since my last shower. Most of the time my mother had been giving me sponge baths because I hadn't really cared. The warm water felt good on my face and shoulders. I sighed, feeling subdued. I had forgotten how quickly a shower can make you forget all the bad stuff, if only for a few moments. When I was finished I felt almost like a new person. I quickly dried myself off with a soft, fluffy towel and brushed my teeth. I kept trying to find something to do. Even if it was only to spray on perfume or refold a shirt. I felt that if I was doing something I wouldn't remember as much. I searched in my drawers for something cool to put on since it was quite warm outside. I found a simple white, sleeveless blouse and a loose, long-flowing skirt made out of some airy fabric. When I looked at myself in the mirror I finally noticed how much weight I had lost. Being in bed for so long and hardly eating a thing had taken a toll on my appearance. My face was gaunt and hollow looking. My cheekbones much more prominent then usual. My eyes looked huge and unfamiliar. The blouse and skirt I had on seemed to hang on me as if it were on a hanger. The blouse practically falling off my shoulder. When I took a step forward the skirt began to slip off my hips. I rummaged around and pulled out a belt to hold it in place. I knew that I really shouldn't care about what I looked like. I used to only make myself look good for Andrew but for some reason the image staring back at me in the mirror made me want to burst into tears. My once beautiful hair looked frail and brittle from weeks of neglect. I was so pale and there wasn't one ounce of life in my now dull blue eyes. I grabbed a brush and began to pull at my hair. It was as though I was trying to cause pain on myself to make me feel better, or maybe because I wanted to punish myself. After brushing it back into a loose ponytail I looked through my makeup bag for some coverup to make my face look a little less pale. When I was done applying the dark powder and a little blusher I felt I looked a little better. Sighing, I turned around and headed for the door. I tried to stay calm, I mean I was only going downstairs and to my backyard. How hard could that be? I had done it many times before. But, for some reason I was terrified. I felt like I was betraying Andrew in some way. When I got downstairs I called out for my mother, hoping she would come and see me up and about, but when I checked the kitchen and noticed her car keys were gone, I figured she had gone to the store. Sitting down for a minute at the kitchen table, I soaked in my surroundings. Everything looked and smelled the same, and for that I was grateful. At least if my life wasn't quite the same anymore then at least everything else would be. It wasn't until I remembered that this was where Andrew proposed to me that the kitchen didn't seem so friendly anymore. It was too sad. Blinking back tears, I quickly ran out the back door. The sun seemed to hit me with such force that I swayed slightly, feeling dizzy. I walked over to the bench under an apple tree and sat down resting my forehead onto my hand, closing my eyes. I felt better soon and just sat back watching animals scurry here and there, listening to birds singing and calling to one another. I noticed that the grass had been freshly cut, realizing that Martin Edwards, the young boy who lived down the road, had been here recently. I breathed in the sweet scent of freshly mowed grass, and the strong perfume of the roses and smiled a little. Maybe things would be okay again. Everything around me seemed to be taking all that life gave them in stride, maybe I could too. I must have been sitting there for at least half an hour when a strange car I had never seen before pulled into our drive way. My first reaction was to hide, or just quickly run towards the house. I did not want anyone to see me yet. To me, nobody other than nature, these animals, my mother, and I existed. And, of course my memories of Andrew. I was still in my depressed, sad, dreamy mode and I wanted to stay there. If I spoke to anyone else that world would be taken away from me. I watched silently, shielding my eyes with my hand as the driver's side door slowly opened. I saw a pair of feet clad in thick, white sandles place themselves on the asphalt. I gasped quietly when I realized that it was Hannah. I felt tears roll down my cheeks. It was too much as if it were Andrew getting out of that car. She had nurtured him since he was a child, she had been like a mother to him and it was just a little too close to home for me. Then again, I had always loved Hannah and knew that I would want to see her again anyway. Better now then later. She noticed me sitting on the bench and began to make her way over to me with a small smile on her lips. A smile that quickly disappeared when she got a better view of me. "My lord, child! What have you done to yourself?" She hurried over and took me into her arms. "Oh dear, I knew I should have come by sooner. How you have suffered." I began to sob, burrowing my head into her shoulder. "I heard that you were getting better, but I hadn't realized just how bad you had been." She turned my face towards hers. "You poor thing. I am so sorry I wasn't here sooner. I was told that you didn't want to see anyone. Is that true?" She looked at me with sympathy in her eyes. I nodded. "I'm sorry, Hannah. I just couldn't." "It's okay, honey. I understand." She patted my back, making circular motions to help comfort me. "All this time you have been suffering. You are still suffering though. It will take a long time to heal. I am glad, however, to see you up and about. I was told that you would not leave your bed." "It's true. This is the first time in a long time that I have been outside. I was hurting too much to move. Or to even care, really." I replied, honestly. "Oh, I know exactly how you feel. I feel as though I have lost my very own child. Andrew was like a son to me. I suppose I will always ache. It's too much to bear for me, so, I can imagine the grief you must be going through." She looked wistful for a moment. "Ho . . ." I began, my voice wavering. "How are Mr. and Mrs. Winters doing?" "Under the circumstances as well as can be expected. For once in her entire life, Mrs. Winters has hardly uttered a word. She is ever so polite to us all now. You can tell she is hurting more then anyone. I think that she feels that Andrew is the only person who has ever really loved her." Hannah turned to watch a squirrel make it's way up a tree near the house before she continued. "In my own way I feel sorry for her. I guess she is a person after all," she smiled slightly then grew serious.

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