THE CLICHE GIRL

PART ONE.

*AFTER THE EVENTS IN THE STORY*

It all began with those warm, steel blue orbs looking at me, glass-like and the whites in her eyes red from salty tears that fell. A sad smile spread across those full cherry red lips.

It all ended with those warm, steel blue orbs looking at me, glass-like and the whites in her eyes red from the salty tears that fell. A sad smile spread across those full cherry red lips.

I longingly wait for the vibrant memories to become clouded, blurry and then fade away from my mind completely, only to appear every once in a while as a nice reminder that I got to be apart (no matter how short it was) in her life. The pictures I stick on my wall with blue-tack and sellotape will, in the future be stuck in photo albums or scrap books and put in draws or shelves; then forgotten about until spring cleaning. I will forget her husky voice and the way her smooth skin felt against my finger tips, the taste of her sweet lips against mine never to happen again.

The story was doomed from the very first hello and my heart obliterated from the very last goodbye. I will miss those sun kisses freckels that where dotted over the bridge of her tear drop shaped nose... I still have that her jacket she stole from a street market stool, it's brown leather even more warn down.

Love when you're a teen was never going to last; yet I held onto it with a tight grip until she turned away and this hope I had been high off had ended sharply like a clean cut to the neck from a Guillotine.

It has been over a year now and I still beg to forget her. I've picked up her mannerisms and grown a heart as cold as hers.

Maybe if her eyes weren't so beautiful or her personality a little less captivating would I have been so infatuated as I felt... as I feel?