Prisoner of Love

Chapter 1

Chapter One (April 12th 1861)

My dad came into my room in the early morning, with a tear streaked face. You could tell that waterfalls of salted face water of sadness cascaded down his sullen cheeks. His sunken eyes, as sunken as Ariel's Grotto, were evidence to his late night. "Father dearest," I began, "Why have tears disgraced thy face?"

"If you talk poetic anymore, I will attack you with the North."

I sunk back, knowing how stressed he's been but still wanting to cry out in anguish. My father scoffed "Wait until I tell Mary about this." He hissed like a slimy snake.

He threw a loaf of bread at my head and said "Give this to the soldiers, for they are weeping aplenty. And massage their shoulders, I assume they have many stress knots."

I pooped my pants in anger and spread it on my walls. The name that I haven't been able to get out get out get out of my head burst forth into my actions. I wrote the name of my beloved into my fecal matter. "Paul" besieged the wall of poop in fancy cursive because I keep it classy.

"SHARKEISHA GO DELIVER THAT FOOD" chuffed Abraham.

I burped and it tasted like crumpets. I fell down the stairs, painfully hitting every step, and landed on my face, sprawled out like a majestic eagle at the bottom of the stairs.

I cha cha slid out the door and into the Battle of Bull Run. I army crawled with pizazz over to the Union. They ran on all fours to the bread with their tongues wagging and feasted upon it. I smiled with satisfaction of pleasing my father and fulfilling his requests. I started walking back to the White House and spotted movement in the trees. Fear squeezed a little squeaker out of my bum bum until I noticed IT WAS THE SPICY CONFEDERATE. A louder, more affirmative fart introduced itself out of my bootay when I saw Mr. Spicy confederate. "Who are you?" I questioned.

He looked into the distance as his short hair swayed in the blood scented winds of agony. "I'm Paul, my homie g's call me P Money. But you can call me Master Higgins."

A little chartreuse liquid escaped out from in between my legs. He was just too spicy.

"I'm Sharkeisha" I offered.

He scoffed and farted three times. They smelled like a combination of Corbin Bleu and Joe Jonas mixed with a dash of angel perspiration. His eyes connected with mine and I felt my heart guide off on the wings of a bald eagle. He smirked in satisfaction and shot a Union soldier in the clavicle. Wait.. HIS NAME WAS PAUL LIKE THE PAUL OF MY DREAMS. "When can we meet again?" He asked, gazing at me tenderly despite the blood caked in his carefully sculpted eyebrows.

"Tomorrow, please. I swear by the blood of the velociraptors of Dionysus and the goblets of my ancestors that we will meet again."

Paul nodded, jumping down from the tree and landing in standard Cullen position. He roundhouse kicked a union soldier in between the eyes. "I'll come back for you" Paul whispered seductively.

He ran off, the only sound heard was the sound of galloping abs.

To be continued.