Guilty Rose

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 13 (v.1) - Chapter 12

Submitted: November 03, 2012

Reads: 81

Comments: 4

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Submitted: November 03, 2012

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Guilty Rose Chapter 12

“Now, why is he here and why does he know about this?” I said, squinting at Kyle who was lounged comfortably on my couch. Kevin was sitting on one of the wicker chairs next to Kyle while I was making coffee for the three of us. I had finally gotten over my fit after he announced the first rule.

“I like mine extra sweet and creamy,” Kyle called out to me. I bit my lip to prevent me from spewing a row of ‘nice n’ friendly words’ at him.

“It’s okay, I prefer my coffee black,” Kevin said. I drew in a sharp breath as some coffee spilled and burned my hand. The sound of footsteps rang as Kyle ran up to me.

“Are you okay? Where’s your first aid kit?” he asked me frantically. I told him it was in the cabinet.

“Let me do it. I know more first aid stuff,” I told him. He looked at me skeptically. “Do you know why I have floral oils in here?” He shook his head. “Well, lavender oil treats any burn and lilac treats insomnia if inhaled. So, that’s why I know more than you!”

I applied some oil on my hand and covered it up with some gauze. I taped it shut with some medical tape. Done!

“Okay, Kevin, you can explain to me why this idiot is here, too,” I said, jerking my thumb at Kyle who looked pissed off.

“Well, he’s here because he died and was sent to earth to repent, like you,” he started off, not meeting my eyes which were possibly bugging out like a fly’s. “The second rule is that you have to complete your purpose to regain your spot in heaven. Most purposes are the easy things to accomplish while the rest take more time and effort.”

“Yes, and? What about the third? Fourth?” I asked.

“There are only three rules so, the third is the fact that you cannot make a deal with Lucifer A.K.A Satan or the Devil,” he finished.

“And why would I make a deal with Satan, the ruler of Hell?” I asked him.

“We had some people sacrifice something to Satan in place of their wish,” he answered me, finally meeting my eyes. His eyes showcased memories far back. Like when a girl was branded with a mark that took away the shine in her eyes. And when she closes her eyes and reopens them, they are blood red and dead.

I scream.


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