Dear Connor,
The waters have calmed every since you slowly faded away from my life.
Almost a year passed by. You were going into high school now, and had graduated from Chinese school. I would no longer be able to see you in person, probably never again.
In volleyball class, my last year, I always feel a little empty. I know that you gave up on volleyball despite your skill at it, and took up tennis instead (I heard you can beat all your friends too... you little braggart).
Whenever I see a guy hit a hard serve over the net, I can't help but think of you, and think that you could have done better.
Surprisingly, I got a lot better at volleyball. I can serve overhand with a great consistency and a good amount of power now. I'm consistently getting scratches and bruises on my knees and arms from digging and diving all over the floor to save the ball, unlike my statue-like behavior last year.
But I don't mind. My battle scars just remind me of what I have accomplished.
Why was I working so hard? Maybe because I wanted to do you proud.
You barely went on Gmail anymore, and when you did, we would chat for about a minute before you had other things to tend to.
Austin disappeared from my life completely. To this day, I still have no idea how he is, though I assume he's alright since he's your identical twin, and come on, I mean nothing bad can happen to the almighty Connor right?
The other day, I saw a kid with a sideswept haircut, a blue D.A.R.E shirt on along with athletic pants, and a yellow backpack sitting by himself.
Was that you Connor?
I walked by him deliberately, taking a glance at him.
Now that I saw his face clearly, it wasn't you. Yes, he had similar features, similar backpack, similar clothing, but he had a slightly more arched nose and a younger glow about him
Sure enough, when he stood up, he was only up to my eyebrows. The Connor I knew was a good inch taller than my 5'6".
Disappointed, I slinked back to the table where my friends and I were working on homework.
Why was I so disappointed?
I just wanted to see your face one last time...
Reminiscing,
Rose
~~~
YOU ARE READING
Confessions of a Bitter Rose
Não FicçãoRosaline is a normal school girl. She isn't popular, she isn't unpopular. She isn't beautiful, she isn't ugly. One thing she was, though, was extremely bright. She thought that she would be able to outsmart him, escape the tragic ending the future h...
