I felt the arrow on my back snap as his supposed love for me
faded away. He knew it, and so did I. Not very many people knew
that it was him that had broken our relationship, not me.
"I blame Cupid." I said to myself quietly.
In just a few days I would be fourteen, currently I was a single
(and still) heartbroken girl. A lot of folks (mostly adults and
older teenagers) say that a lot of teenagers, or kids, around my
age are not yet mature enough to be thinking of each other
romantically. In my defense, love was for all ages.
Taking my phone away from its charger, I checked for messages
from him, of course he wouldn't try and speak to me first unless
I attempted to have a conversation with him.
'No new messages' my phone read. I frowned, feeling the empty
spot in my chest ache.
"I blame Cupid." I said again, for perhaps the tenth time today.
I could still feel the slight sting of the arrow I unconsciously
knew was there. Even though I knew I would move onto someone else
as time passed, I also knew, that right now, I physically and
mentally needed him. Mark Davis; but what he and I had possibly
shared, was now history.
"Wake up Elizabeth," a soft voice called in my dreams, "Elizabeth
Main get up you lazy thing."
The voice called again, louder, and harsher.
After that, I finally decided to wake up.
"What the hell do you want?!" I snapped at the person who had
aroused me from my dreamless sleep.
The person looked at me with bright and amused eyes. He smirked,
and the only thing I knew was, this person wasn't Mark. Instead
of light blonde hair and blue eyes, this person had very light
pink hair that could've easily been mistaken for white, and very
noticeable red eyes.
"Who are you?" I asked curiously, feeling slightly under dressed
compared to him.
With his black dress pants that was perfectly belted with a
silver studded belt, and red dress shirt that had a black vest
over it, his tie matched his hair color, it seemed almost
unnatural. Until I remembered, (even though I was in a bright
blue cami complete with my black pajama pants) he was a stranger
in my bedroom.
"Em," My father called, knocking slightly on my bedroom door,
"I'm going to go out to the store to get some ingredients to make
us breakfast, do you want anything?" he asked.
I had shot out of bed and was desperately trying to find a way to
hide the mysterious boy that was in my room.
"I don't know," I stammered, "Maybe some fresh strawberries?" I
suggested nervously, the twit wasn't budging from his spot.
"Of course.." My father said, "Are you okay Em? Did something
I could hear the slight squeak of the doorknob turning.
"I'm fine dad!!" I shrieked, desperately trying to wave the boy
away, with my bedroom window open.
He didn't budge.
"Ahem.." My father coughed.
I could swear, at that moment I felt my heart skip some beats,
and my olive skin burned. The handsomely dressed boy was standing
right next to me, right in front of my father, and to my
amazement I noticed something.
'Dad can't see him.'
"Are you okay Em?" My dad asked, my face was on fire.
"Just fine dad, I thought I saw something fly into my room
through my window, that's all."
I hated what I was doing. I was lying through my teeth, and to my
"Oh alright," I could could relief on his face as he sighed, "I
thought there was a boy hiding in your room or something." My
father said nervously.
"You know I trust you Emmy bear," My dad smiled, calling me by
the name he used to let me know that he was being fatherly. "But
sometimes I worry about you and you know that,"
I knew where he was going and I watched him shrug,
"Fatherly instincts I guess."