my first story 2012

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

Feeling lost in love.

I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar setting. I tried to shovel through my memories, but all were dilluted. The only thing i could remember was a blindingly bright light, and falling into a deep coma-like state. Now, i found myself standing on an open and beautiful veranda in what must have been the climax of the night. I could hear the wind hissing through the palm trees, however, i could barely see their sillhouettes in the dim light of the moon. The wind seemed to be picking up as it whipped my waist-length, black hair in all directions. 
Why was this the place i woke up to? I looked down and noticed that i was in a white satin gown that fit my body until my hips where it flowed to my ankles, just shy of the ground. I figured that this was what i had fallen asleep in from the previous days events. As hard as i tried, i could not recall what had happened before i had fallen out. 
I turned to see a white, window-panelled door to my left. It matched the wood of the porch so elegantly. All of the furniture and plants surrounding me had seemed to follow just as well. Who ever's home this was, it was truly remarkable. The creativity the owner had put into this design was oozing from every stitch and peice of glass. 
I reluctantly paced over to the door to have a peak inside. It was almost too dark to see in, but cupping my hands around my eyes, i could see someone asleep in what must have been the most elegant king-size bed I had ever laid my eyes upon. The actual bed itself was relatively low to the ground, with eggplant colored sheets draped over it. But what was astonishing were the four metal pillars on each corner of the bed that seemed to go on forever. I tried to tilt my head to see where they ended, but the darkness obscured my vision. Each brown metal post was comprised of many twist and turns. They were filled with beautifully carved leaves and flowers that gave the whole room a relaxing feel. I squinted my eyes to try and see who was lying in this bed, but all i could see was that it was one person. And that that person was male. He was laying on his stomach with his head facing away from me. He had dark hair and a sculpted, shirtless back. I had no reccollection of this place or of this man. 
I slowly backed away from the door and found my way to a nearby chair. I don't get it. I closed my eyes and took in a long and deep breath. I pressed my cold hand to my forehead and forced myself to remember what i could. I listened to my thoughts:

My name is Lorelei Rokerson and i know that i am 18 years old. This i am certain of. But why am i here? It seems that if i am in a dream, there has to be some significance to this place. But this isn't a dream, for i can feel and smell and hear and touch and taste. I've never had a dream so real; there's no way this is a dream. So why have i awoken to this very spot? Is this fate trying to tell me something? Am i on some kind of mission? Don't be stupid Lore.

I sighed. Was i honestly trying to sit here and listen to myself argue with...myself? I think i might be going crazy. I huffed, and stood abrupty from the chair. The chair slid back against the surface of the porch sounding a very loud screech that scared me so bad i nearly fell to the ground. I stayed crouched with my eyes squeezed shut and my hands glued to my ears until i felt a hand lightly touch my upper back. I jumped again, only this time, i did fall to the floor. 
"Omigod!" I said, trying to gather myself.
So there he stood. The stranger from the bed. Right in front of me in all of his half-naked glory. He had on old khaki pants that did no justice to his skin tone. His hair was dark to match his eyes and he was very tall and built. Intimidating, to say the least.
I dusted myself off and stood awkwardly, mentally kicking myself for being world's biggest klutz at precisely the worste moment in time. I was in the home of a stranger. Despite the fact that he was a young, attractive stranger, i was still certain that this would leave a huge gash in my permanant record.
"I am so sorry. I was just leaving..." i stammered.
"I'm sorry, i know you?" He questioned. I could litterally see the confusion on every inch of his pretty face. His eyebrows were contorted into the perfect "what the hell?" expression.
"Uh, no actually. I don't think you do. And to be honest, i have no idea where i am or how i got here," i tried explaining. Was there any way to sound less pathetic?
"Well that's not exactly what i was expecting you to say. But im Gavin. Nice to, uh, meet you?" He extended a tan hand towards me.
"Lorelei," I said as he took my hand in his for a very strange greeting, that damn expression on his face not fading at the slightest.
"Well Lorelei, would you like to come in?" He asked. It appeared that he had already in his mind debated the question, and come to the conclusion that i didn't seem to be the typical burgalar-rapist-murder, so he invited me in.
At this point in time, a million thoughts rushed through my mind. Why was he being so kind? Was THIS the man who designed this home? He must have been no older than 20. Why again was i in a dress? Where in the hell am i? How did i get here? But mostly... Who is he?

Submitted: May 07, 2012

© Copyright 2021 ab9146. All rights reserved.

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