Writing my first love story. This is weird. Just weird. Yeah I was a bit inspired after reading a friend, MrFlatTv’s post about love and “players” of relationships. Read his post here! Well, even if it’s a love story, it needs my own essence in it, and it means blood and stuff. Can it be like a sad-love story? W-wait, this would still contain parts that aren’t so happy, wouldn’t it? When will I ever be able to write a pure love story? loll I don’t know really.
It’s also inspired by the song “Tomorrow Will Be Kinder” by the Secret Sisters on the Hunger Games Soundtrack. I don’t know, iTunes shuffled to that song when I was thinking of what to write. (This song also inspired me with lots of ideas for writing, dammit, I can’t write them all right now. :<)
Yes yes yes, this is my first time to write a story in a boy’s perspective. Just thought it’d be more appropriate to do so. And damn! I even got a line of lyrics reference from the song into it. I love it. lolll Hope you will enjoy it as well!
(Fun Fact: The song “Tomorrow Will Be Kinder” looped 49 times throughout the time I’m typing this post. x3)
Tomorrow Will Be Kinder
She phoned me yesterday night and called me over. She cried nonstop. Rambling on and on about how she hates her life. She just got dumped, because she accused her boyfriend of cheating on her. I asked whether it was true, she told me yes, and that she saw it with her own eyes. She saw her boyfriend kissing with another girl. She then continued to sob loudly and rambled on about how she is a loser, how she is just not good enough for anyone.
I wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault. I wanted to tell her that she isn’t a loser. That she’s nice, and she’s beautiful. I wanted to tell her how her hair smells like flower, how her eyes glisten when she laughs, how she’s so cute when her face goes red when she’s embarrassed. I wanted to tell her about my feelings towards her.
I guess it just wasn’t the right time yet.
We’ve remained the best of friends since forever, and it’s only when she had her first boyfriend, do I realize that I actually have feelings towards her. I’ve always kept these thoughts to myself, since she already has…or had, a boyfriend.
“Dave! You listening to me?” She snapped me back to reality. “What the fuck!? Why aren’t you listening to me? You know what? Just get out! It’s not like you’re gonna give me any advice anyways, just GET OUT!” She shoved me out of her room and shut the door close.
For the rest of the sleepless night I worried about her. Her ex-boyfriend had such a big impact on her, both good and bad…mostly bad. She did seem much happier than I’ve ever seen when they were dating, but everything else just became…worse. Her grades dropped, she neglected her friends, and her attitude changed. I felt distanced from her…which was why I was silently happy when she called me over.
This morning, she didn’t even come to school. Her ex just publicly announced that he got himself a new girl. A new toy, I would prefer the word. He definitely had not treated her right, had not respected her, and had not make a positive impact on her like a good boyfriend, or even a good friend should have.
Sometime during the 6th lesson, my phone buzzed. I excused myself to the toilet to check my texts.
“I’m sorry Dave. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that…but thanks for being such a good friend. I’ve decided to leave this place, I hope you don’t mind. Please don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright. See you again sometime! :)” Read the text.
My mind raced. I do mind. I am worried. Hell, I’m very worried. I rushed down the steps and out of the school building. Grabbing my bike, I thought of all these possibilities of what she is doing, or what she is going to do. I pedalled through the streets and skidded to a stop in front of her house. I ran up the porch and rang the bell rapidly as I tried to peer through the glass to see whether there’s anyone inside.
I heard a thud coming from the second floor. Where her room is. My head spinned. I picked up a huge rock and smashed it through a window. When climbing in, I felt something scratched against my arm and legs. The glass had definitely left cuts on my limbs, but I don’t care. I ran up the stairs and rushed into her room.
Her feet were in mid-air.
Everything went into slow motion. I ran up to her and attempted to lift up her legs while shouting her name over and over again. It’s my turn to cry, I can’t hold it back any longer. I sobbed “Please” over and over again, while I lifted her legs even higher. Tears streamed down my face. It was a while before I notice the faint call of my name. I looked up. She looked exhausted and weak. I put the chair back at the upright position and let her stand on it. Then I helped her down and laid her down on her bed.
After a sip of water from the cup I took from her kitchen, she pulled me close and we hugged. “Please don’t do that again.” I told her. She continued to sob and said her apologies over and over again. I was no longer crying, she needs someone strong beside her right now.
I looked over to her, in her fragile position, I dare not make her sit upright. Instead, I put my hand on her arm, and told her everything. I’ve confessed everything. It wasn’t until I’m done to notice that she was looking at me through her tears. I told her she might not be ready for anything else right now, but I will wait. I will treat her right, and I will respect her. I will tell her she’s beautiful, that her hair smells like flowers, that her eyes glisten when she laughs, that she’s cute when she’s embarrassed.
We fell silent afterwards, and not before long, she fell asleep. I stroked her hair, and told her, “A brighter day is coming your way. Yes, tomorrow will be kinder”.