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SORRY FOREVER is a mystery.  It’s a five-part story.  Sometimes our first love is the hardest one to get over.  But then, sometimes we don’t want to get over it.  We just want to love the person.  No matter what.  Think about your first love while you join me in PART 1.  Thanks.         




DAVID FORMAN COULD NOT stop crying to hear his mother.  He tried to.  But knowing that he killed his teacher left mixed emotions of grief and guilt.


David’s behavior was not what Susan had expected from her eight-year-old son.  It was normal for him to be upset.  This was beyond that.  His tears were uncontrollable.  His emotions were raw and unrestricted.


Susan patiently explained to David that his phone call to Mrs. Dillard was in no way responsible for her death.  Mrs. Kim Dillard was David’s third-grade teacher.  David could not understand how his mother could say that.  Why had Mrs. Dillard died then?  Why had she died the next morning after his angry phone call to her?  It did not start out angry.  It just ended that way.  David wished he could take back everything he said to her.


It was nine pm the night before when he called Mrs. Dillard.  He had been in love with her for two years.  He could not think of a way to tell her when he was around her.  The words would never come out.  Bringing her apples every day was not helping him.  Staying late after class and pretending to have questions about his homework had not done the trick either.  She still treated him like a kid.


That day David talked with Matt, a friend of his, and told him how pretty Mrs. Dillard was.  Matt, also eight-years-old, told him to call Mrs. Dillard and tell her.  Matt’s eighteen-year-old cousin had told him that was how he approached girls.  Matt told David he could not be scared and do it.  If he was scared, the girl would know it. That is what Matt’s cousin told him.


David’s stomach churned and rolled all day.  The anticipation of what he had to do bothered him.  Matt had given him specific instructions.  If David followed them, Mrs. Dillard would let him kiss her.  They would then be boyfriend and girlfriend.  Matt told him his cousin said not to get off-track.


Nine o’clock at night was when David was going to make the call.  He would stay in his room and do it. He did not tell his parents.  They would stop him. He would tell Mrs. Dillard how he felt about her.


David made the call at nine pm.  He wanted to vomit.  He was not sure what he would say when Mrs. Dillard answered.  On the second ring, David went to hang up.  He was relieved no had answered.


“Hello,” a woman said on the other end of the line.  David was too scared to say anything.  “Hello?”  David began to sweat.  His throat was too dry to answer.  “Hello?  Who’s there?”


“Me, Mrs. Dillard,” David said.  His voice was shaky.  His heart raced and pounded.  “David Forman.”


“David, it’s late,” Mrs. Dillard said.  “Are you okay?  Where are your parents?  Why are you calling me?  Are you alright?”


“I’m supposed to tell you something,” he said.  He could barely breathe.  Se told him to go ahead.  “I’m supposed to…”


“Sweetie, is everything okay?”  A man said in the background at Mrs. Dillard’s house.  Mrs. Dillard explained to the man that one of her students was on the line.  She needed to make sure he was okay.  That he should go back to sleep until she was finished with the young man.


“David,” Mrs. Dillard said.


“I hate you,” David said.   “You lied to me.  You lied.”  Mrs. Dillard told David to calm down.  “I hate you.  You were not married.  No one was with you.  The whole class knows that.  I wanted to marry you.  I wanted you to be my girlfriend.  You’ve ruined it.  You’ve ruined everything.  I hate you, Mrs. Dillard.”  She told him to stop and breathe.  She asked what was going on.  “I hope you die!”  He hung up.


The next morning David’s mother got the call along with the other parents at the school.  Mrs. Dillard had died in her sleep.  She was forty.  A brain aneurysm had killed her in the middle of the night.  Parents were to keep their children at home.  If a child wanted to talk, they should bring that child to the school.  Adolescent counselors had been brought in.


David’s mother took his head in her hands and kissed him on the cheek.  She told him she could not imagine what he was going through.  Then she took eight-year-old David up the stairs to his bedroom and put him in bed.


As she closed the bedroom’s door, David asked, “Can I see Mrs. Dillard today and tell her I’m sorry?”


It is hard to know where infatuation starts and love takes over.  It is also hard to control our emotions when we are in love.  Are you presently infatuated with someone?  Should they be worried?


Thank you for visiting me again.  I hope I’ve added a bit of intrigue to your day.  I’ll see you tomorrow. 


Stephen Wallace