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Okay,TDIRM here, I'm doing a one-shot inspired by one of my favorite songs, Violet Hill by Coldplay. Well, the end of it at least (The part I'm talking about does get sung)



There it was, that dreary black casket peppered with powdery snow at Violet Hill Cemetary. Inside had to be my one true love. Bridgette. It was a month ago when I got that call.

"Mr.Williams," a sympathetic female voice said over the phone, "A close contact of yours, Bridgette Landers has been in an accident. She is being transported to the nearest hospital."

My mind wandered back to reality and on to the minister at the funeral, saying that Bridgette was dearly loved and died too soon,acting as if nobody knew that, despite the audience knowing her better than he did. Then, my first visit to the Hospital came to mind. As I entered the stark, white, disinfectant smelling corridor of the hospital, my heart sank to my feet just by being there and seeing Bridgette, the beautiful, angelic Bridgette in a hospital bed was almost too much for me to bear. The sadness turned to anger towards the person who had put her here to begin with. A driver had ignored a red light and hit her Jeep Wrangler on the driver's side. She had been knocked unconsious instantly. She had finally awoken and I was ready to see her. I entered her room to find a battered, bruised girl covered in bandages and casts. The only way I knew it was her was the faint cry of "Geoff", coming from her.

"Bridgette, how are you?"

"Horrible," she replied.

"How bad?" I asked.

"So bad, I can't even begin to explain," she answered. Then, she let out a cry of pain and I was whisked out of the room, and told to visit the next day.

"Ugh, I can't believe you!"

I was snapped out of flashback mode by a sobbing and shouting Courtney.

"Look Princess, things like these happen. People live and people die. Not a reason to cry yourself dry." replied an insensitive Duncan.

"Not a reason. Not a reason! A close friend dies and your not the slightest bit sad?! You...You...You disgust me! Just... Just get out of my sight!"

Courtney's sobs intensified into wails and she crumpled to the snow on her knees. Duncan walked out of the cemetary with a scowl. A car engine started, and he departed.

It felt awful to have a friend like this. How could he not care about Bridgette? Why was he so uncaring? How could he do this to his own girlfriend? I had visited Bridgette whenever I could. Every time I went, Bridgette got paler, thinner,and her voice got hoarser and softer. She strained herself to talk, but she managed to communicate. She'd say just about everything except one thing. That one thing was I love you. Was she giving me up? Did she no longer care for me. I was so engrossed in these thoughts that I shugged off a nurse whispering,

"Should we tell him she probably won't make it?" on my last visit.

Then,a week ago, Courtney called and said that Bridgette had died of internal bleeding. I got the official news an hour later. I was devastated. She had stayed alive for so long yet she had to die then. I didn't care about the massive amounts of cards and people offering a crying shoulder. All I thought about was wondering if Bridgette loved me when she died. As I watched the casket being lowered into the pit they had dug, I finally started to cry. The warm rivulets of saline liquid ran down my face, off my chin, and onto the ground, making pockmarks in the snow. Everybody left after that. Instead I just stared at her tombstone. Why would she have a black casket? She had always never liked the color black at all. I started whispering lyrics I heard once,

"I took my love down to Violet Hill.

There we sat in the snow,

All that time she was silent still.

So if you love me, won't you let me know

If you love me, won't you let me know."

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, it was Courtney. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

"That was good Geoff," she said.


"Bridgette would have liked this. She loved water, and here it is, frozen and surrounding us," Courtney explained.

"She did like the snow, but why are you here?" I asked.

"Duncan took my car, and I have to give you something," she answered.


"I visited Bridgette too. If she died, she said I'd have to give this to you."

Courtney gave me a scrap of paper folded in half. I turned around and unfolded the paper. For a moment I just stared into space, hesitant to read Bridgette's last note. I looked over my shoulder, and Courtney was gone, leaving only a trail of footprints in the snow leading to the cemetary's ornate iron gates. I turned my head back to the note. It read "I love you."

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