Picnic

Family portraits line the spotless living room, smiling faces frozen in happier times, framed in gold and wood. On the surface, it’s picture-perfect harmony.

But upstairs, the illusion cracks.

Raised voices pierce the quiet, an argument ensues. The kind of argument that has happened before, but this time, it’s different. More concern in the shouts than fury.

In his bedroom, Will stands toe-to-toe with his father.

"William, I'm just trying to help you," his father pleads.

"I didn’t ask for your help," Will shoots back, his height towering his father by almost a foot. "Because you don’t give a damn about me! What Savannah and I have, you could never understand!"

"Will! Savannah is—"

Will doesn’t wait to hear the rest as he storms out. His mother is already waiting in the hallway, reaching for him like she knows this is more than just another fight. He tries to shove past her, but she catches his arm with surprising strength, forcing him to stop. For a second, neither of them speak. Their eyes lock, hers damp with held-back tears; his, bloodshot and burning, like he doesn’t know whether to scream or break.

"Please, baby, don’t leave,” she begs him. “We only want what’s best for you. I love you. Your father loves you."

"Love?” Will almost barks, the distaste for his father dripping on his tongue like venom from a snake. “That man knows nothing about love and yet he tries to preach to me! He didn’t even love you enough to stay faithful."

The words barely leave his mouth before her hand sharply strikes him across the face. His head turning with the force of it, cheek stinging, ears ringing in the sudden silence that follows.

Will doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. His mother’s hand slowly drops, trembling. Her breathing shallow, looking just as shocked as he is—by the slap and the line he’s crossed.

"I understand you're hurting," she whispers, her voice shaky, "but don’t you ever speak on my marriage again. You don’t know what we survived. What we endured to get here. All—for you. Do you understand me?"

Will only nods, the pain in his mother’s eyes cutting him deeper than the slap.

"Sharon," his father emerges from the bedroom. "Let the boy go."

Reluctantly, she obeys and releases his arm. Will stomps down the stairs, his parents' voices muffled behind him, finally muted by the slam of the front door. On the porch, the fresh air greets him with a much-needed coolness, giving him permission to breathe again.

At the end of the driveway stands his girlfriend, Savannah—calm and steady, like she always is when he feels like falling apart. The afternoon sun wraps around Savannah like a blessing, making her mocha skin glow brighter than the yellow in her floral dress. Her thick curls dance in the breeze, wild and soft, her smile radiating as everything good in Will’s world. Sorta like an angel.

Savannah waves, picnic basket swinging gently at her side, and in this moment, the weight of his father’s voice, his mother’s slap, and the fire in his blood just quiet. Will does not say a word, just walks into her outstretched arms and breathes her in like she’s the only thing holding him together, her sweet vanilla fragrance calming his nerves.

Eventually, he pulls back, but keeps their fingers laced.

“C’mon,” Will leads her toward the sidewalk.

"Wait. We’re not driving?" she asks.

"No," he replies plainly, abandoning his beat-up car in the driveway. "I need to walk. Clear my head."

She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, and together, they stroll down the street, the world softening with each step. As the park slowly comes into view, Will picks up the pace to secure their usual resting spot.

"Will?" Savannah eyes him intently.

"Yeah?"

"Is everything okay?"

"I’m fine." Will mumbles, intentionally avoiding eye contact, as he spreads out a blanket under the shade of their favorite tree. He can feel Savannah’s glare zoned in on him. She raises an eyebrow.

"You’re lying, Will. You haven’t said a word."

“Word,” he forces a grin and as expected, she bursts into laughter. “And I am not lying. I’m just starving."

"Good because I brought your favorites." With a sudden shift in mood. Savannah giddily takes a seat and opens up her picnic basket to turkey subs, barbeque chips, snickerdoodle cookies, and ice-cold Yoo-hoos.

"Oh yeah.” Will’s eyes widen, his stomach now growling for the first bite.

"Oh yeaaaaaah,” she playfully mimics.

"You’re the best."

“I know.”

They kiss, lips lingering for another until the sight of the sandwich distracts Will.

"I just wanted to help you ease the pain," she whispers.

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind."

Will shrugs it off, taking the most grateful bite out of his sub. As he eats, Savannah gingerly watches him with the softest smile.

"Is it good?" she asks, never indulging herself.

Will notices that she hasn’t touched her sandwich, but dismisses it as he’s just glad to be here with her. "It’s perfect," he says.

"I love you, William." she interrupts him mid-bite. "Always will. No matter where we are in this life or thereafter, you’ll always be my one true love."

Will pauses, swallowing in confusion. She hardly ever uses his full name. "What’s going on?"

Savannah averts her eyes into the distance where a group of kids are tossing a frisbee.

Sitting down his sub and wiping his mouth, Will carefully takes hold of her chin until she finally faces him. "Savannah? Did you get accepted?"

Tears flooding her eyes, she nods vigorously.

"Yes."

He immediately embraces her. "Van, that’s amazing news! Why are you crying?”

“I hate that I have to leave you.” Savannah whimpers, allowing Will to dry her eyes.

“Forget that! We talked about this. Your future is more important than anything in this world and I’ll always be here to support you, even from two thousand miles away. So go chase your dream because I know you will be an amazing journalist.”

"Thanks, Will, but how do I leave my family? And what about Dallas? She couldn’t live without me."

"Your sister is stronger than you give her credit for. We all are, but that girl, for sure, is like a ten-year-old Amazonian warrior or something."

Savannah giggles, like something heavy slipped off her shoulders, something only Will ever seems to know how to carry. “That she is. Plus, she’ll also have you here to protect her from the evils of middle school.”

Will, returning the laughter, dramatically places a fist over his heart. “Damn right. And I will do so with my life.”

"Dallas would love to hear you say that. You know she has the biggest crush on you."

“Well, too bad. I am already smitten by the smartest, the coolest, fly-est, most beautiful girl in the world.”

They briefly kiss again, before Savannah quickly pulls away.

"Let’s head to my place. Everyone’s waiting."

"Everyone?" Will asks, confused as Savannah snatches the rest of the sandwich out of his hand and shoves everything back in the basket. Hurriedly, Will downs a handful of chips and a big gulp of his Yoo-hoo before she takes those away too.

Savannah jumps up and extends her hand to him. "Let’s go."

As the sun starts to dip, they walk, hand in hand, the silence between them not awkward but full—like everything that needs to be said is already understood. The neighborhood passes by in slow motion: barking dogs behind fences, lawn sprinklers ticking in rhythm, the soft rustle of wind through trees.

Will doesn’t say much, just holding Savannah’s hand is more than enough, his grip tighter with each step as she quietly hums a familiar tune. He watches the way the sunlight catches her curls, how the breeze teases the hem of her dress, how her fingers curl perfectly into his. There is something about her that feels brighter than the world around them. Almost like she herself is glowing.

By the time they turn onto her street, Will feels lighter as if his feet are mindlessly guiding him. On the porch of her house, Savannah fumbles with her keys for a moment. Before opening the front door, she turns to Will and smiles serenely, almost too serene. "I love you, William."

Will simply responds, "I love you too."

Slowly, she pushes the door open, and the air shifts the moment he steps inside. Will walks into the living room filled with people, all dressed in black. Conversations immediately stop with this unnatural abruption. Faces turn, the familiar faces of classmates, neighbors, and family. On the couch, Savannah's own father sits rigid with arms cradled tight around his crumbling wife, sobbing into a fistful of tissues.

Will blinks. "What’s happening?"

The atmosphere smells of lilies and sorrow. No one among the sea of teary-eyed faces answers him so he turns to Savannah, only to find her gone. Like she has just vanished into thin air.

Will stands there alone in the doorway, searching for his girlfriend among the visitors. Then he spots her when their eyes lock. On an easel, adorned with flowers, is a portrait of Savannah, smiling directly at him.

The room suddenly grows cold. Will stumbles back a step, his knees buckling. The picnic basket slips from Will’s hand before he even realizes he’s letting it go. It hits the floor with a dull thud, the lid flopping open, a half-eaten sandwich rolling out onto the carpet. The warmth drains from his face. His stomach turns as his chest tightens, trying to catch his breath. A deafening ringing begins in his ears, drowning out the murmurs in the room. Everything around him slows into something distant and warped. His brain scrambling to recollect the events of his day.

Earlier that afternoon, after storming out of his bedroom, Will’s father shouted after him, "Will! Savannah is gone and she's not coming back!"

Before slamming the front door of his house, Will could hear his mother whispering in the hallway, "Frank, our child needs help."

Will aimlessly walked to the park alone, leaving his damaged car behind. He sat down by their favorite shaded tree, his fingers tracing their initials long carved into its bark, S+W. He ate his favorite foods alone until his feet dragged him all the way to her house, humming her favorite song the entire walk. All alone, no Savannah by his side.

The avalanche of flashbacks snaps Will back to the present, everyone’s eyes on him in that crowded living room.

"Savannah?"

No one answers as they all look away.

Frantic, Will bolts upstairs, darting down the hall.

"Vannah!"

He burst into her room to find it empty, lifeless.

After quickly searching her bathroom and rummaging through her closet, Will doesn’t find Savannah. She’s nowhere to be seen, except for a photo—taped to her vanity—of the two of them laughing on a class field trip a couple years back. The joy captured in that picture hits him like a punch in the chest. He sinks onto her bed, the emotion too heavy to stand. Clutching her pillow for comfort, the vanilla-y scent undoes him completely and the tears come in waves.

Will is crying for what feels like an eternity before he feels the softest touch on his shoulder. Startled, Will looks up to find Savannah’s little sister, Dallas, their sibling resemblance striking, almost scary. She takes a seat beside him, careful not to bump his arm.

Will sniffles, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve. “Where is she, Dallas?"

Dallas looks away, her small shoulders trembling. When she finally speaks, her voice cracks, "Savannah is gone, Willie."

“No!” Will shakes his head slowly, like the words can’t compute. “She was just here."

“No…she wasn’t.”

“But we just had a picnic,” he convinces himself, blinking rapidly.

Dallas doesn’t respond at first. She just watches him unravel, the heartbreak unfolding right in front of her. "You don’t remember, do you?"

Will’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Searching for the words to say, his mind is struggling to reconcile imagination from reality. Every laugh, every step, every touch he’d felt today felt so real. But how?

"Please, Dallas,” Will grabs the edge of the bed, bracing himself. “Tell me what the hell is going on."

She inhales deeply, "A drunk driver hit you two. And she…Savannah…didn’t make it.”

"What?” Will’s voice is small, fragile. He stares at Dallas, searching for a lie, for anything that makes all of this untrue. “When?”

“Last week,” Dallas holds his gaze, unwavering and empathetic. And then the memories come rushing in—loud, relentless, and undeniable.

Lunch in the park, ice cream at the mall, and an action-packed romcom. They had left the movies, laughing. She wore the yellow sundress he’d bought just for their tenth monthiversary. Vanilla filled the car as they rode home, high on the night. Her last words to him echoed like a ghost, “No matter where we are in this life or thereafter, you’ll always be my one true love". Suddenly, came the headlights. Tires screeching. Her loud scream, followed by an even louder crash. Then darkness.

Like reliving that collision, a sharp pain shooting up Will’s right arm. As he reaches to massage it, he realizes for the first time that it’s in a cast, signatures and all.

Dallas is telling the truth.

Savannah is gone.

Forever.

Will lets out a scream so raw and guttural, it shakes the entire house. Downstairs, the mourners freeze, their conversations silenced by his ragged sobs.

Dallas doesn’t flinch. Instead, she inches closer, gently rubbing his back in slow, practiced circles. Her measured voice anchors the moment like gravity.

"Willie, it’s okay. I know it hurts. It must’ve hurt you so much that—"

“I forgot,” Will says, turning toward her, eyes swollen red.

“I wish I could I forget too.” Dallas gently takes his tear-soaked face gently in her hands and leans her forehead against his. “But I can’t. We can’t. I feel my sister everywhere. And that’s because I remember her not by how she died, but by how she lived…and loved. And there is no one in this world that Savannah loved more than you.”

Will’s eyes brim again, “She was my one true love.”

“She still is,” Dallas says.

The two pull into a tight hug, crying on each other’s shoulders. A small breeze, carrying hints of vanilla, blows open the curtains as the setting sunlight beams through on their embrace with a radiance of a presence unseen. Somewhere beyond the veil, Savannah wraps them both in her arms.