The White Rose

Love is not forbidden, so why does it seem that way?

 She cried on that rose as he walked away. Why had he bothered? She wanted to stop. She wanted to drop it. It was all she had left of him, and even though she still loved him, she didn't want to think. She hugged the rose closer to her, but it didn't sink into her skin. It just pinched her heart more. She squeezed it and only found that the hurt grew. After nine months with him by her side, she wasn't ready to leave him. But he was ready. And that was the only thing that matter.

          She walked home alone that night. The rose was still tightly pressed to her skin. The tears had stopped, but the rain soon fell. He used to always walk her home. No matter the weather, no matter the time. He was the type of guy that held your hand even when his friends were around. The type of guy that called back when you hung up. The type of guy that only cared about the relationship, and would only have what you wanted. Except this. She didn't want this. She wanted to keep that guy.

          Some people fled the streets. They ran passed her. Acted as if she was crazy. Wind blew everywhere, tearing hair into thousands of tiny strands across her face. She held the rose to her heart and walk on through the rain as if it wasn't there.  

          "Please! Please!" Someone called behind her. It was him. He had ran, was soaking by now. Exhausted. "I want you back!"

          But she couldn't hear him. She had blocked out all sound.

          Cars crashed behind her and explosions were made. It was as if she was toxic. Everything went wrong as she went by. But no. It was a hurricane. A hurricane in which love flew everywhere. I wish that is the truth. But it isn't. There was a hurricane. Everywhere. Everyone fled to their houses, and locked themselves inside. But she just wept and walked on. She stared straight ahead and at nothing else. 

          Water towered to her ankles. Her socks drenched wet, and with each step she took, they only got soggier. The storm had grown stronger now. The streets were deserted as the city flooded, and everything went blank. 

          I remember the look on her face, as her body lay on the grown--still gripping the white rose up to her heart.

Author's Note

Unnamed. Okay?

Reviews

[Mintwhiskers]

this is not good this is excellant I LOVE IT!!!!!! it shows what love can truly do to people
i enjoyed it sooo much except one thing I think ur last sentence cut the story short u could of made that part longer

[Deleto]

Wow. Amazingly good!

[Freder Fredersen (aka G..]

I enjoyed it.

Cheers!
FF

[Scott Free]

Definitely more than ok! This was really good.
The powerful picture of the hurricane coming was really good--what sort of ruined it was your trying to say that it was real. This piece is so ethereal I felt you could have left that out--if people are running and locking themselves in their houses then of course there's a hurricane coming.
Other than that this was quite good. I liked it, I could feel the emotions and that is *so* important.

~S

[Lorrie]

Very well done. I can feel the pain the girl was feeling as she walked. Keep up the great work and I look forward to reading more.

[Gregory Hill]

Very nice, it has a lot of passion. I liked it, you might want to add that maybe the rose was being pressed in her hand and drew blood, but she didn't care. The story is good but it was a bit confusing. Definatly a good prospect for expansion.

[Kelsey Desmond]

Why thank you, Kimmy

[deeps]

Wow! I like this, You shoudl add on to this, I could picture the whole scene.
This is amazing, I think you have some talent Girl.