A.G.

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
“Please. Calm down.” He rested a hand upon my shoulder and the tension in my hands eased slightly.
“You wouldn’t understand. So, don’t you tell me to sit idly.”
“You’re right I don’t understand. We haven’t laid eyes on each other in years, but I want to know.” I really disliked these mind games he seemed to enjoy playing. I don’t want to put the pieces of my life together again.
“Maybe I don’t. Did you ever consider that?” I countered him. Dante was quiet. His needs were selfish and he knew at least that much.“I guess not…,” I turned away. “I’ll be going now.”
The door was so close, yet my mind felt so far. The need to escape from this haze clouded my every thought. There was no excuse to stay, until I heard, “Wait!”
“What is it now?” I asked impatiently. “You want to know, don’t you?” He felt the urge to throw a curveball. He knew I wasn’t going to comply.
“I want to know what exactly?”
“That necklace. You yearn for its origins. I can help you.” I looked down at the charm on the rusty chain around my neck. “It means absolutely nothing…”
“But it does,” He intercepted my thought. He tiptoed towards me and picked up the locket, “You’re wearing it aren’t you?” What did he have to prove? That I had one ounce of curiosity? I did not understand how knowing that would help him gain any recognition.
“That doesn’t prove anything. Nor does it give me a reason to stay.” I grasped the door handle with a firm hand and cracked open the door. There was no one in sight, and the hall was empty. I could leave without a fight, a chase, or a concern. I liked to take easy route whenever possible.
“I know where your father is.”

Table of Contents

Lying In Wait

Submitted: June 19, 2017

“What are you waiting for?” He inquired, “Are you here to taunt me?”
There was really no dire need to defend myself of his accusations, but there was a little bit of time to waste I thought.
“That’s not the case at all. I wouldn’t be so heartless to not let you finish your drink.” His eyes wavered slightly and he replied, “Look at me. I have a young lady worrying about me drinking, but you haven’t taken a drink of yours yet.”
He was absolutely right. Not once had I taken a drink from my glass. My mind was elsewhere, as I observed the color of my untouched wine.
Luscious red.
If only colors could speak. However, if they did they would never again be perceived as beautiful. There are so many secrets inside their silence.
I wish I could hear them.
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