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The Land of Black Roses

Novel By: lost love long forgotten
Horror



The story of a girl who is trying to deal with heartbreak until she meets a stranger who's very deadly. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2

Submitted:Mar 20, 2013    Reads: 7    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


He walks away out of the bathroom and I stare at the white envelopes that have no meaning since I can't trust him. He broke the trust I had finally learned to create with someone and now it's broken. I go back into my stall Just barely before I hear the door open and a bunch of girls walk in. Instead of ripping up the letters like I know I should I let curiosity get the best of and open the first letter it reads:

My dearest, Cleo I truly miss you. Ever since you've left I've had nothing besides shadows eating me alive. I want everything to go back to the way it used to be. I miss spending summer days with you under the bridge in the river. I miss how you smile I miss everything about youand it's killing me. I remember the first time we met I was new at the school we were in third period English and the teacher had me sit next to you. You were writing and I kept asking you what you were writing since we didn't necessarily have to take notes. You kept saying "None of your business since you don't even know me." I remember thinking you looked sad and I finally figured out why. You were a loner afraid of having a close relationship with anyone. I didn't blame you then and I don't blame you now for feeling Insecure. I wasn't supportive of you I knew that you didn't like to rush into anything too fast because you were afraid that you'd miss it. You were afraid that if anything passed by to quickly you would never have a chance to really experience it and I'm sorry that it had to be that way with us. I'm sorry that I was a jerk who didn't have consideration for your feelings. I'm sorry that I lied to you by saying we would be together forever when I didn't know I wouldn't mean it. The plain truth is I'm sorry.

Sincerely, Edgar.

I wasn't used to his hand writing being so neat which made me suspicious that he didn't actually write the letters himself. I had too many problems with trust to just believe anything he said except that I felt like he really meant it. I should know better. Everybody I trusted seemed to turn away from me like I had the black plague they left me behind with nothing, no one to save me and when I found a life raft with Edgar he popped and let me drown in my own pool of desperation. I was desperate for a way out I was planning to take my own life if somebody didn't save me. Except I was saved, but, all too soon my prince in shining armor became the one who let me sink to the bottom and drown. I still don't know if should trust someone who can turn their backs to those who need them most.

I place the second letter in my bag and wait until the sounds of girls who's lives are perfect are gone. I'm sitting and eating my home luch since I decided that I was never going back in thecafeteria again. I feel like ditching the rest of my classes mostly because I don't want to see Edgar who'll be in most of them. I hate being here at school and I hate going home because it's a broken place where dreams are shattered. My mother has decided that I am the cause of all destruction both in her life and in the world. She acts like I'm the reason that my good-for-nothing father left even though he made that decision all by himself. I hate everything that this world brings me and I always question why I'm here. I know that nobody wants me so why am I here? I get one of my notebooks and flip to a blank page I write my own letter to Edgar knowing thatI can't and probably won't give it to him.

After, I finished my own personal letter to Edgar I find thatit's time for seventh period and therethe teacher doesn't care if I pay attention. I always thought that this school was made just for babysitting while theparents pretend to be going to a friend's house when they're really having some sort of affair. I decide to goto class andI sit in my usual spot in the back. I pull out my old tattered poetry book, find an empty page and start writing. I never could make my poems ryhme but I never cared because they were always a part of me.After, I finish my poem I see we still have fifteen minutes left and that's when I notice a pair of icy blue eyes staring at me from the seat beside mine.





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