Living is bizarre but what else could it be? It can be spent living in sorrow, living in mourn, living in anything but in all living is only living...
⇥7mcuMDu6⇤
^^Song is what comes later in the chapter. Give it a listen. :)
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Chapter Twenty Five.
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Violet's POV
When I was a little girl I would dress up as a princess and act as if I had a Prince Charming. At that time my father would play my Prince Charming and I would have "tea" with him. I haven't acted like a princess in a long time and now I don't even know why I acted like that before. I believe in no Prince Charming. Prince Charming is perfect and there is no perfect guy. Everyone wants to find one like Prince Charming but all of us know he doesn't exist.
Isn't Prince Charming suppose to come into your life and change it? And make him fall for you?
The guy that is near to my Prince Charming is Drew. Yes. He has changed my life interpretation of love. He has made me believe that he loves. I know he must have that feeling someone deep down. Maybe it is closer than I thought. He keeps giving me all these signs that confuse the heck of me. I mean one moment he seems like he hates me and the next he is hugging me.
The boys plan is for Drew to open up to me and I believe it's slowly working. They have had the plan for a a week now and not much has changed.
I really don't know if Drew could be my Prince Charming...
****
I feel something hit my head and it wakes me out of my slumber very fast.
"Five more minutes Mum!" I yell and then turn to see Drew smiling as he holds back a laugh.
I slump down onto my elbow and laugh a little, "why did you just throw a pillow at me?"
He holds out three fingers.
"Three?"
He holds out a 1.
"One?"
Then he holds out a seven,"seven?"
After being confused then it dawns on me. Drew has been counting the days. Apparently it has been three hundred and seventeen days ever since the accident had occurred. Everyday I try to get his mind off of it but he always tells me what day it is on.
I pull my blankets away from me,"Drew we need to talk about this."
He furrows his eyebrows.
"Oh you know exactly what I'm talking about," I say to him, "knowing you for almost two months I think I can tell when you are actually confused about something."
He is sitting on his bed and he sits with his legs crossed with one another.
He shrugs and types, "my parents gave me some mail the other week."
