Liza: Happiness in a bottle

Liza: 13 years

As time passed, Joan and I became good friends. With each passing day, we grew closer and closer. I first met her at the church through Emma.

Even though I was not bright when it came to recalling names, I somehow was able to remember hers. I didn't know why I did that though. Maybe the way she gazed at me when we locked eyes, that day at the church felt unusually good and comfortable at the same time.

Joan made my heart beat a little bit faster than normal. No one else had made me feel that way before. I spent my days wondering why I felt that way. What was so different about her gaze? Whether I would be able to meet her again?

I was beyond thrilled when I finally got to meet her at school and felt overjoyed when I saw that she were my bench mate.

Joan always seemed to be in a state of trance, oblivious to the world around her. She never smiled and when she did, it seemed to contain an undulating stream of agony. I didn't know her story but from the way she kept pushing me away, resisting my friendship, I was positive that someone had betrayed her.

I never wanted her to doubt that I was hurting so I made her believe that I was the happiest person in the world.I cracked jokes and sometimes acted crazy, to make her laugh. In a way, it was healing me, unconsciously. There were times, I felt genuine happiness, an emotion, that I thought I'd never be able to feel again in my life.

"How are you happy all the time Liz?" Joan asked me with a questionable expression on her face.

"Why? Why can I be happy?"

"I wish I were more like you. I want to be happy all the time too." She says looking up the sky.

"Stay with me forever and you'll be forever happy" I grin.

"Mmm....let me see." She says smiling happily.

Happines....

Joan's smile had the power to wash away all my fears. I felt like I could trust her but I was still not ready to reveal her my secrets and to show her the real Liza who was just a living "dead" person. This mysterious girl had some form of linkage to my body, as though an invisible thread connected us, because everytime I saw her, my heart went berserk.

Joan....what are you really? Why do my heart ache everytime I touch you?