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Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender".

I couldn't take her off my speed dial. I called for the last five days just to listen to her voicemail. It became a ritual for me. Three o'clock every morning. I longed to hear her voice, her crude salutation. Then, today, it happened. I hit number one on my speed dial. All I got was a mechanical phone message that said the number you are calling has been disconnected.

We were the two missing pieces of the puzzle. Don't ever stop searching for those missing pieces, if you do, you'll never find what you're looking for. She stopped. Everything that she so cherished in life came to a sudden halt. I'd like to think I was one of the few things she considered to be of importance. Correction, let me rephrase that. I never knew until that day that I was of any significance to her.

How do I know that, you ask? You see, she died for me.

Her life was cut short. She saw me standing right into the line of fire, she pushed me aside as Lyle pulled the trigger. One, two, three and she was down. "Parker!" I yelled. The last shot penetrated through the back of her head. "Jarod," she whispered. "I..." Those were the last words that came across those lips of hers. Red, the color of blood, her blood, which saturated my white tee-shirt. I loved her and even if she couldn't tell me, I knew she loved me, too. I'll finish her sentence for her, "Jarod, I...love you." I'd like to think those were the last words she had wanted to say to me.

Until a person is gone, you don't realize how much you miss them. I feel emptiness in me. How do I stop the pounding in my heart for what I feel for her?

I'll keep her number in my phone listing. Maybe one day I'll have the courage to hit speed dial again. Who knows? Instead of that mechanical voice, I'll hear her instead. "What," she'll growl. And I'll answer softly, "Hello Again, It's Me."

The End










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