English 101 compilation

Paper 1: Short Story: "Do you Hate Me?"

"Do you Hate Me?"

There were flowers. Flowers everywhere. The sweet scent entered my nose. My pale hand went to reach for a flower, but a bigger, more masculine hand picked it before I could. I looked up and, of course, there he was. He smiled gently towards me. Slowly he moved his hand that held to the flower towards my face. I flinched by instinct

I felt the pieces of my hair part above my right ear. I carefully opened my eyes and reached up to feel the flower in my hair, resting on my ear. I stared up towards the man, and he chuckled quietly. For some reason...I feel at ease when I see him. A smile cracked on my lips.

It felt like hours as we sat there-smiling, laughing, grinning as if we had never felt happiness before. It was a perfect moment. It was only us in a giant field of gorgeous flowers. Whoever this mystery man was, he has to be my lover.

Suddenly a cold chill ran through the air. I shuddered and looked towards my lover. He was now standing, still smiling ever so gently. My body felt numb. I tried to move but it refused. He chuckled slightly, a half-hearted smirk on his face. But then my body began to move. What? I did not will it to move. I stood in front of him, staring at his calming smile as worry settled in.

"Wh-What's happening?" my voice cracked in fear.

He tilted his head to the side, his chuckle echoing.

I could not move my head-only my eyes. I saw how the flowers began around us began to lose their color. They slowly began to wilt. The bright sky dulled to a dark grey. The sweet smell still lingered but with an added unusual smell. The foreign smell was close to me.

I looked over to my love, and my eyes widened. He still smiled so gently, contrasting to the dark, red liquid that trickled down the corner of his lip. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I looked down and almost screamed. His shirt was drenched in red on his left side. He did not move to stop the bleeding. I looked at him as if he were crazy. I wanted to yell at him to hold the wound. I wanted to reach over and try to stop it myself.

But then an ice cold grip squeezed my heart as I slowly realized I was holding a gun. Tears slowly fell down my cheek. Why? Why would I do that?! I love him, do I not? Why would I hurt someone so dear to me? I closed my eyes in disbelief. No! This is not happening! I was happy! I was calm for a brief moment! Why would I strip myself of that?!

I felt a gentle hand on my cheek. I scarcely opened my eyes. I see him once more. His gentle, calming smile that just minutes ago filled me with relief now pained me with relentless guilt. I was hyperventilating as the tears began to blur my vision. I feel him move his thumb to brush away some of my tears. And still: he smiled. I could not take it anymore. I shut my eyes once more to relieve my aching heart.

There was silence. No wind blew nor birds chirped. Only my small whimpers echoed in this vast garden. His warm hand slowly grew cold as it rested on my cheek. But then a whisper echoed through. I opened my eyes, wanting to know what he said. But there was no one here. I was alone. There was no body, only grey roses stained red.

What did he whisper? His voice was so low I could barely hear it. Or was it so crystal clear that I refused to hear it? I was so much in shock-it is as if my brain refused to work with me any longer. It too had left with him.

On one hand, if he said 'I love you', how evil would that be? As if he was purposely trying to fill me with guilt. And on the other, if he said he hated me...how marvelous would that be! If he said he hated me, I would never have to feel guilt about this ever again! I was filled with happiness at the thought he might actually hate me!

But then my world faded out. I lazily opened my eyes and saw my familiar bedroom. I sat up and looked to my left. There he was-the love of my life sleeping soundly. I stared at him momentarily. I slowly reached under the mattress and pulled out the concealed gun.

"Do you hate me?"