Don't Say Yes

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
The man Penelope Alexis King loves, James Spielman, is getting married. The problem is- it's not Penelope he's getting married to.

Submitted: March 29, 2012

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Submitted: March 29, 2012

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This is it. The world has officially ended. Jesus has come down to Earth to tell us we're all just sleeping ducks dreaming that we're human. Giant space alien monkeys have invaded our planet to confiscate all our bananas and bring them back to their home planet. A potato has been declared our new leader of the free world. Gillian Cuore (pronounced as Kuwo), my best friend, nerd of the century, and crazy weirdo extraordinaire, has decided she hates school and has rode off to Mars on a unicorn. THE WORLD HAS OFFICIALLY GONE BONKERS.

James Spielman, my boyfriend of two years, has asked me to marry him and I said no.

After two years of being together, you'd think that I'd actually know what he saw in me. I mean look at me! Short, brown layered hair, vampire-pale skin (Gillian says my skin isn't pale, it's 'porcelain'. Did you know they make toilets out of porcelain?), and, freaky grey eyes. I ran away from home when I was sixteen and lived with Gillian for three years then got my own apartment (my dad's dead and my mom is just about as nice as an angry T-rex). I have conversations with myself in my head.

Plus, I have synesthesia. It's not a disease; it is, according to my doctor, a condition in which one sense, for example, hearing, is simultaneously perceived as if by one or more additional senses such as sight. Another form of synesthesia joins objects such as letters, shapes, numbers or people's names with a sensory perception such as smell, color or flavor. For short, I hear or see a word or a name or a number or a letter, I see colors in my head. My synesthesia is the reason why I hate crowded and noisy places or events, like concerts. It makes my head hurt because all the people are talking at the same time, which makes me see tons of colors all at once.

James' name is a deep ocean blue. It's very pretty. It's also my favorite color. My name is pretty, too. It looks like autumn, red with splashes of yellow and orange. Gillian's is like a leaf in the summer, green, but with splashes of red. Aiden Clarke's, James' ever so charming (pfft, as if) and arrogant best friend, name is just like Gillian's. Coincidence? I think not. Maybe they're soulmates.

Anyway, he brought me to the forest where we first met three years ago. Ah, good times. Well, sort of. Eh, maybe not. I remember being chased by a rabid rat the size of a dog while screaming murder when I was on an adventure to find some weird plant for Gillian (for medicine school, I guess), when I came across his and Aiden's campsite. James then proceeded to shoot the 'rat' with his gun, successfully killing it. I had a great first impression, I know. Hey, at least I got the plant thingy!

As you could probably tell, sarcasm is my native tongue, and my favorite language, right after English, which is my first favorite.

Okay, back to the situation. James went down on one knee and said a speech about, er, I don't exactly remember, then said something that sounds like "Willyoumarryme?", then I went and said something really intelligent like "Heh?", then he asks me again, really slowly, as if he was talking to a five year old.

"What do you even see in me?" I asked the question that has been lingering in my mind ever since we started dating. I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow.

"You're beautiful. You're different from others. Not to mention an exquisite dancer." he winked at me as I rolled my eyes.

He sighed. "It's because you have the unbelievably rare ability to not give a damn to what others think of you. And I love you for that." he said and kissed me on the forehead. I blushed. “So I'm going to ask you one more time. Will you marry me?"

I considered this for a while.

"I don't know." he gave me a confused look. "I mean, I love you, I really do, but, we're too young! Well, you may be old enough, but, I, for one, am. I'm only nineteen years old. I'm really sorry." I said, letting the tears fall.

This is weird. I haven't cried for six years.

"Oh, okay. Can we stay friends, though?" James asked me.

"Huh? Aren't we still together?" I asked, confused.

"Well, you did say no. That sort of means our relationship is over." he told me calmly, but his eyes told a different story.

"Oh." I said stupidly.

"Well, it's getting late," he said, looking at his watch. "We should probably get going now."

"Yeah," I said, still shocked.

He took my hand and steered me out of the forest.

Well, this sucks.


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