I don’t understand why I’m so nervous. My dad told me to take a picture of her when she comes down the stairs. It will be one her last moments in this house, before she has to go back. I’ve spent the day arguing with her, listing all the reasons she should stay, well except for one. The main reason she can’t leave is because, she will be taking something with her that doesn’t belong to her. How could she think I will live, when she stole the very thing, that keeps me alive?! Even now, my heart is fighting to leave me, it struggles to understand that she is only in her room; it wants to rush up the stairs to ensure she has not run away.
I can’t imagine a day, where I don’t see her racing down the stairs, ready to battle me on whatever crazy thought she had that morning. My parents stand beside me, calling her to come down. I hear her closing the door and making her way to the staircase. My hands shake as I hold up the camera, but I fail in trying to focus my lenses. I get a glimpse of the white dress I bought her the other day. It seems time has frozen, as I look up from the camera to take in every part of her. Her curled black hair, twirls on her shoulders, as she pulls down the dress to her knees. She told me that it was too short, but still insisted on wearing it, as it was my first gift to her. She makes her way down the stairs, dancing in black heels to keep her balance, her softly colored lips forming a smile as she sees my parents. She stops a few steps up, right in front of me, where her eyes meet mine; I realize there is beauty in this world, capable of taking one’s breath away. In that moment I knew, neither my camera nor the heart of any man is worthy enough to capture her.
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