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 happen?"
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
'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 own father.
"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."
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