dear diary
this is my fifty-third week in high school and it's raining outside.
although the weather was bad, scott came to visit me.
and there he stood, soaking wet and deeply in love with me, holding out the damaged flowers.
which he gave me anyway, knowing that i don't mind it.
because he was more valuable to me.
than those damn flowers.
scott: i'm going to miss your green eyes
me: and i'm going to miss the echo of your laughter
scott: and how you focus on reading books, even if the surroundings are noisy
and cry every time you finish one
me: and how you do your head back laughing whenever i toss a joke
scott: your jokes are the worst, mary
me: yet you still laugh at them
scott: it's a nice thing to do
me: so now you're a gentleman
scott: for you, yes
me: thanks for that
YOU ARE READING
Fallen Girl
Short StoryMary's dead. But she's still breathing. That's the problem. TRIGGER WARNING: DEADLY DISEASE, HARD TOPICS LIKE DEATH AND HEARTBREAK!!!
