I silently walked into the house, closing the door behind me, hoping that he didn't hear. He was bad enough the way it was; if he knew that I had been on a date, he'd be ten times worse. If he had seen the goodbye kiss on the porch, he would be twenty times worse. Of course, knowing my luck, he had seen everything. The lights flicked on as soon as the door closed, and his hand struck me across the cheek.
"Don't bother going out with those types of boys. You don't know have any clue what love is, you silly child," he scolded as I rubbed my cheek where he had hit me.
"But I do. I can love people other than him, so what's wrong with loving him specifically? I know what love feels like. You'd take a bullet for that person. You couldn't live without that person. You get sad when you even have the slightest thought that you might've upset your special someone. You would do literally anything for this person, and you love them so much that you think it's impossible to love them more. You think that they are perfect. Because, to you, they are. I know what love is just like I know what a human is. Love is a feeling, and sometimes a risk. But I am willing to take that risk."
YOU ARE READING
Excerpts From Books that I'll Never Write
Teen FictionJust a book full of wanna-be stories :) except if you skip to 101 or 102 it's just me complaining because I'm a mess and no one reads this. it basically sucks. The feeling explode on excerpt #102, I strongly suggest starting there.
