52 Hertz

short story about special connection
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Short Story


There’s a whale that exists called the 52hz-Whale. 52hz is the frequency of their calls. Not a lot of them exist, but a few do. Whales use their calls to attract mates. They are not only genetically programmed to, but also emotionally driven to do so. The thing is, is that a frequency of 52hz is much higher than any other genetically similar whale. Every time the 52hz-Whale calls out to find a mate, no one can hear it. It just swims through the dark ocean trying to find someone, but it never will.

Ten years ago a girl in my town killed herself. She was seventeen. I never met her, never knew of her until about a year ago, and no one really ever talked about her other than the fact that she killed herself. I heard about her because of my mom. She wanted to make sure I wasn’t depressed since I was about the same age she was.

Her name was Allison Abrams, and she was the only girl I’ve ever been in love with.

I have a lot of trouble talking to people. It’s always been like that-my mom says it’s normal. I say what’s on my mind and not a lot of people like it. I try not to, but I can’t help it. I had a girlfriend in first grade but now she doesn’t talk to me. That was ten years ago…but still. I read a newspaper article about Allison. It showed her picture and she was beautiful. She played volleyball but her main interest was writing. She even had a couple pieces published in the local paper. One was a poem-a haiku.

It went:

I watch every day
He acts less like expected
I watch; I don’t know

When teachers talk about her, they talk about how she would always listen to what everybody had to say. Another would say, “Allison, she was one of the few girls who treated everyone with respect.” I just smile, because I knew that’s how she would be. I could see it in her eyes. Well, the picture’s eyes. I think some of the girls in my class are jealous of her. Taylor said that her sister told her that Allison was actually not very nice at all, but just acted like it to get good college recommendations.

They don’t know her like I know her. Allison would never do that.

Allison talked to every group, the nerds and the popular kids. At least, I think she did. I mean, she played sports, and was into the arts. And! And, the teachers say all of that stuff about her. People just want to think they know her so they don’t feel bad about saying mean stuff about her. They don’t understand what it would be like to be her. All of the pressure she had to live with-get into a good school, do well in her classes while playing sports, and having girls talk about her behind her back. How could anyone live with all of that?

No one knows what that’s like.


No one knows what it’s like to live knowing the love of their life doesn’t exist anymore.

That they’re only a memory.

I talk to her sometimes. She’s out there, I know she is. I just have to wait to see her. Everyone else only sees Allison as a background character in their lives. They think they have her figured out. I see the person in Allison’s person.

I know I do.

And when we meet, I know she will feel the same about me as I do for her.



photograph by Daniel Santalla


The Writers Manifesto

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