0. My Romeo

The lies of a writer

0.
My Romeo

My Romeo came to me last night, with a dozen roses and a pocket full of kisses. He climbed up my tree, and he leaned against the windowsill. His dazzling green eyes gazed at me lovingly, as he watched me brush my dark chocolate hair. I stare at myself, at my hazel eyes. I can see them spark knowing of My Romeo's presence. I turn to see him looking at me. Just looking at me. I smile at him, and he beams at me. Still does not move from the windowsill as I approach him.

"Romeo, what are you doing here?" I ask still holding my brush gazing into his eyes. I saw a hue of blue swimming in his pools of green. I couldn't help myself but sigh in total, complete awe.

My Romeo, of course, does not speak. Instead, he walks away from the windowsill, placing the roses on my bed, and grabbed the brush away from me placing it on the bed. He grabs my hands and pull them to his warm, soft cheek. My heart skips a beat and I hold my breath. Suddenly his arm wraps around my waist and pulls me close. His hard chest warmed my body. I draped my arms around his broad shoulders and our heads moving closer towards each other.

Then in a soft, soothing voice, he whispers, "I love you, My Juliet." And just then, our lips pressed and I found myself melting into him. Our bodies become one, and my world entwined with his. We are one, and forever will be. It felt like a forever kiss before he left. I could not stop smiling, and dreamed of our kiss over and over again.

     I folded up my newspaper, smiling after I read my story. It was supposedly about my love life with this mysterious boy named Romeo. I look around seeing girls awing over my lie of a story, their hands pressed onto their hearts, and eyes sparkling with delight. A few boys glance my way, with a sheepish smile, and some even blush pink. Only I have this affect on my fellow classmates.
     What they don't know, this was only a dream. I never had a Romeo, or someone climb up to my window with a dozen of flowers. They only think I have this amazing love life, and coincidentally his name is Romeo, a perfect match for my name, Juliet. However, this fairy tale does not end in tragedy, more like a fantasy.
     Does guilt play a role in this story? The answer, no, for I am used to living a lie. I love the envy I see in girls' eyes when they read my love life. I love the jealousy boys have for this "Romeo" when they look at me.
     Ah, I love my writings. There is nothing like being the center of high school with them knowing my life. If only they knew the truth, which will never happen.

Reviews

[Short.Nerd]

A really good introduction. I'll read on (:

[Daydreamer54]

This was an awesome intro and i look forward to reading more. I also like the imagery in this intro. Reading on...