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The End Is Where We Start From

Novel By: TheWildOne
Young adult

Eddie Cortese didn't believe in love. That is until the day he died. He has twenty eight days wait until it is decided if he will go to heaven or hell or possibly somewhere else, in those twenty eight days he follows the girl he has fallen in love with and searches for a way to make her see him, talk with him and be with him.

Myra is an ordinary girl who works in a kebab shop and lives with her immigrabt father. She finds herself falling in love with a boy who she has never met...and who is already dead. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Dec 16, 2009    Reads: 170    Comments: 6    Likes: 5   

I never believed in true love. In fact I never believed in love. I thought I knew that I could never love somebody. I was certain no-body could ever love me, not my mother, not my father nor my sisters and brother. I had had a lot of girlfriends. Seven actually. There was Camille, Laura, Debbie, Cat, Frieda, Stevi, and Bella. I didn't love any of them, and I never let them love me.
My sisters were always "in love" but always ended up crying in their beds eating whatever they could find because they were "heart broken". My brother on the other hand only ever had one girlfriend, they were together for about three or four months, but he never got over her. He's still convinced she'll take him back, although it's been two years and she's in a relationship with another girl.
My parents say they love each other. But I don't see how. I don't see how my father could even think straight after six hours at the pub each night doing god knows what. I don't see how my mother could love him after he comes home late each night and smacks her across her face for even the slightest mistake.
I hated love.
The Day Before
It was Saturday. Lunchtime so my stomach told me. My best mate Chris and I were in town for some reason that I can't think of right now. We stopped at the Turkish shop and grabbed something to eat. While I was waiting for Chris to finish his kebab, I saw her. I did what I swore I'd never do. I fell in love…and at first sight too! Damn I hated myself for that! After I'd recovered from the electrical shock her eyes gave me that is. They were the lightest eyes I had ever seen. They weren't even a colour, a sort of mixture of blue, green and brown. So hard to describe, but they stood out against her dark eyelashes and tanned skin. Her hair was dark, with a fringe that brushed her eyebrows. She was so unbelievably perfect. I could have stared at her all day.
"I'm done man," Chris exclaimed with a long loud burp. She looked over at the noise with an amused expression on her face. She didn't look at me though. "Can we go now…I think I ate too much man, I'm gonna chuck!"
Damn you Chris, DAMN YOU! I thought. I couldn't help but gawk at her as we left the shop, she didn't notice but one very big, tall, gruff man did.
"Myra!" He called out to her "Myra come here now!"
Myra. Beautiful.
I thought about her while I was driving home. Her eyes had me hypnotised and I couldn't think straight. Myra, beautiful Myra. Her face was stuck in my mind, she was smiling, and she was laughing…then she was crying…dying.
I woke up early this morning for work, not early enough though. Pa was really mad when we didn't get to the shop early enough to give it a good clean before we opened. He couldn't scream at me in front of all the others but the look in his eyes made me shiver to the bone. It was a slow day, and stinking hot too. The only customers we had in today were a few old ladies and a couple of boys. One of the boys burped and of course I had to go and laugh. That sent Pa of his rocket. As soon as they left he took me home and gave me a good talking too. I'm grounded.
"No! No, no, no! We not laughing at customer!" He'd said with his thick accent…it seemed the longer he stayed in this country and the longer he spoke English, his accent got worse and worse. "And no smiling at boys! You are young! No think about boys! No smile, no talk, no think! You working, you study, you get good job and look after me when I get old! That is all! Okay?"
Of course I said okay. I didn't need another bruise to try and cover up. I didn't need reminding about the whole 'boys' thing either. It's not like I even had one anyway. No one wanted me. I don't know whether it was because they were afraid of my father or I'm too much of a loser, probably the latter.
When we got home Pa took my laptop off me, and said the only television I was to watch was the news, to tell him the whether forecast and who's in jail and who's dead. Pa sat down with me and we ate some pizza. It was nice. Just the two of us not arguing, not fighting, just sitting down and watching the TV.
I was still thinking this when he suddenly shouted, "Ohh wow! Listen Myra! It's those boys who were staring at you today. They're dead!"
I fixed my attention on the news lady. They weren't dead. The one who had burped was alright, the other in a coma. On their way home the driver had smashed into a tree.
They were so young, older than me but still young. It made me stop and think though. Things like this could happen to anyone. Things like this could happen to me. What if I died? My life would have been pointless, I'd done nothing in my whole life but go to school, make pizza and kebabs and look after my father. I had to get out of this place!


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