Warning: This story does infer that a suicide takes place. If this would trigger you in any way, then please do not read this story.
She was the humorous one.
I first met Daniela when I went to boarding school at age 10 and we were assigned as roommates. The first night there, I was so scared that I couldn’t sleep. She stayed up with me, even though she wasn’t scared. The two of us sat on the couch in our room the whole night, talking until I finally fell asleep. There was one thing that she said that has always stuck with me: “I hate the fact that school starts in August.” Whenever I’m in a bad mood, I think of her small but mighty voice saying that and burst out laughing. It might seem strange to others, but it always lifts my spirits. I knew from that moment that we were going to be best friends forever- who else would stay up with you all night and make you laugh like that when you were down?
She was the hopeful one.
I remember one time we were playing Don’t Wake the Llama after our classes were done for the day and I kept losing. After the fifth game that I lost, I burst into tears. I felt like I could never win and just wanted to give up. She told me that if I stopped trying, I would never win. I agreed, and we kept playing until it was time to wash up for supper. Even though I didn’t win any of our games that day, I still believed that one day I would because she had said it.
She was the talented one.
When we were thirteen, our school held a talent show. They convinced people to participate by saying that our parents would be allowed to come if we were in it. I never passed up a chance to see my parents, so I knew that I had to participate, but I had no idea what to do. I had been taking piano lessons since I was a child, so Daniela had the idea for me to perform the accompaniment while she sang one of her favorite songs. We didn’t quite understand the song at the time- she liked it because of the repeating melody. It wasn’t annoying- it was flowing, as though it were meant to be played forever. I made numerous mistakes due to how nervous I was, but even when I messed up she was able to carry on with every syllable in tune.
She was the excitable one.
One day when we were sixteen, we were talking about what our favorite memories were when I mentioned how we had kept playing Don’t Wake the Llama when we were younger so that I would win. We decided to try again, just once more. I lost again, but what was more surprising was when she started celebrating. I was confused- why was she celebrating my loss? Would this be the end of our friendship? Then she explained that she was happy because things were still the same. That was when I took a good look at us and realized just how many things had changed in the six years that we had known each other. We were now teenagers, which meant that we wore a different uniform, we wore different hairstyles, Daniela had grown hers out and dyed it pink, and we now had hopes and dreams much bigger than winning a game or earning another opportunity to see our parents. It was actually more like my parents- hers never came. I just assumed that they were really busy business people or something. The last time I had asked her about them was on that first night, which had made her upset, so I never asked her again because I didn’t want to be the cause of someone else’s negative emotions. I should’ve asked her about them again.
She was the supportive one.
My dream was to be a world-famous ballerina. I fell in love with ballet when we were first introduced to it at eleven and had worked hard at it ever since. She was always right there by my side each and every hour that I spent practicing, ready to encourage, challenge, and praise me.
She was the focused one.
Her dream was to be a bestselling author. When we weren’t in classes or the dance studio, we could be found in the library sitting at two computers across from each other. She insisted on me not reading her work until it was “ready for the world”, so while she worked I would do homework, play games, or just browse the internet. She had all of these cute little things that she would do while she was working- sucking in and puffing out her cheeks, tilting her head to the side, and many more that weren’t as easy to describe. That was when I first realized that to me, our bond was more than just friendship. It was something stronger, something that made it so that if she was scolded or had to leave my side for just a minute, my heart would twist itself up in knots. I had no idea what this meant at the time, but now I realize that this is love. I should’ve told her that I loved her.
She was the gorgeous one.
She insisted that I paint a portrait of her so we could “remember the moment”. I was confused- I wasn’t particularly good at painting, and I certainly didn’t need any help in remembering moments with her, but she wanted me to do it anyways. The way she posed was just like a model, and as I painted I noticed so many details about her. She was long-limbed but graceful, like a swan. The shadows of the night cast a line across her face that I knew I would never be able to capture. Her hair rippled down over her shoulders and chest like strawberry icing over a birthday cake. It was when I looked at her eyes that something struck me- they were so dull and devoid of the usual sparkle that appeared whenever she came up with a great idea. Had these things always been there? I had no way to turn back the clock and check.
I first felt hopelessness when I heard her body hit the ground. I ran outside, down the stairs, and stood in front of her body. I was so stunned that I couldn’t move, think, or even breathe. She was so much more than my best friend… she was my fallen angel who literally fell. Everyone said it was an accident, but they didn’t know her the way I did.
When the Grim Reaper came, I wasn’t ready to let her go. I thought that his appearance meant that she would be gone forever, her spirit enveloped in darkness. What I didn’t realize was that he also has another power: he knows when two people are so closely linked that one cannot live without the other.
She was the ghostly one.
The night of her tribute, I stood next to the easel where I had painted her portrait, in morning, when I felt a chill go through my arms. When I looked up, I saw only love in her eyes.
She was the misunderstood one.
The tribute ended up being for both of us- for our bond that would never be broken by will, Grim, or outside forces. That night, we sang our song, the same one from when we were thirteen, together. This time, we understood all of the words perfectly, and there were no mistakes because it had become a part of us.
“I am alive, just as I was before
I never expected death knocking on my door.
And even if one of us is not entirely here
We are still two of a kind
in our hearts.”
Later that night, we kissed for the first time. As we did so, I felt her ghostliness enter the veins of my body and flow through me as though it were my own blood. The same happened with my blood in her ghostly form. Now, neither of us is perfectly ghost or sim, but a mixture of the two. As we took our lips off each other, I asked her, “Why did you come back for me?”
She laughed her same old laugh and replied, “Because Grim wouldn’t let us be apart. Didn’t you always feel in your heart that we were meant to be together? We supported each other, never let the other’s dreams fail, made each other laugh when we were feeling down, and always wanted the other to feel good about herself. If either of us did anything wrong, it was that we didn’t recognize our own strengths and the other’s flaws.”
Even though she cannot be seen by others, and I have been told numerous times that I seem to disappear, our love is as alive as ever.
She is, and forever will be, my loved one.
Author’s Note: This story was written for the monthly short story challenge on The Sims Forums. The theme for this month was “summer love”. This was a very hard one for me considering that I’m not the biggest fan of traditional summer love stories, so thank you to the countless tumblr posts and people in my life that inspired this! The only build that ended up making it into the final story was Boarding School by annaKgames (original by Kementari1771). There were a ton of other builds by some very talented creators that I screenshotted at, though all of those screenshots ended up getting cut from the final story, which was full to the brim at 12 screenshots and 1500 words! Of course, that doesn’t include this note and the warning at the beginning. And in case you were wondering, no, the song that they sing doesn’t exist as far as I know- I just made the lyrics up.