I did not go to university on Tuesday because I suffered from mild fever. I always hated porridge which I hated even more after my sloth maid cooked a watery porridge for me, and I had to eat it for the whole day.
Wednesday, I was on time, the reason for my absence was simple 'Due to fever'. My conscious friends asked me about yesterday. I agonizingly told them that I did not went for party. They were silent and the silence was epic.
Some desperate professors ( whom I later found that they were right after they died ) gave us an inevitable speech, saying 'life is like a light, you always have a switch in your fingers, depends on you if you turn on or turn off'.
The next period was taken by Mr. Walls in his class, I pretend to be smart and surely attentive. He was a slight weirdo and always preferred asking questions to intelligent fellows, as if we don't exist. He ended his class by declaring that the exams would be held on next week. He said it in the nick of time throwing an atomic bomb on the small head of innocent students.
I was half prepared. My two friends Nick and Jack were scared of exams. They were in anticipation of failing, I told them that they would not fail. I don't know.
The whole class ended with some heavy lectures on failing like 'if you fail you will reach nowhere' and some atrocious Chemistry.
I went to auditorium because I was bored by the nervousness and chaos created by students (or my classmates).
Oh! Sand dunes. Lovely piano tunes. Making the mirage might with a tint of your beautiful music. The music moving with gentle notes, I saw a brunette slow movement of hair with a striking sun at her hair and a garnet nail painted hand playing the instruments. I was well astonished by the surprising girl playing the instrument. She was Rose. She suddenly stopped and gazed at me, with a weird sound of dropping beat. She was crying. She stood automatically and smudged her eyes. Her eyes were penny brown in dark. She smiled. Actually, I will die if you smile.
" Hey, why are you here?", she asked.
"Oh me, I was exploring", I answered.
" You are still exploring with no friends"
"My friends are busy clearing doubts with professors"
"How boring", she expressed.
" Umm-hmm", I expressed.
She chuckled
"You are a good musician", I complemented.
" Just a hobby", she said casually.
We went outside for fresh air. She enjoyed the gentle touch of wind softly moving and crawling at her warm lovely face. Her eyes were cinnamon now in a bright breeze sunshine. The best eye shade of her browns or the slow brunette movement of her bristles in a hazy sunshine. I love my virgin Rose. Pure Rose. Rose of all hues. Her skin was shinning golden yellow with lovely confusion of blood blush colour rushing on her plump cheeks.
My beloved caught my hand and we were hiding in a building from her ugly mafia don boyfriend, Borocho, a drug addict and an alcoholic.
"Hey, why are you hid-"
"Shh-shh-shh", she kept an index finger on my dry lips and her eyes turning penny brown met mine. I still adored her penny brown eyes, dear imaginative readers.
" Why are you scared of him?", I questioned.
"Oh no, its-"
"Its because he tortures you", I interrupted.
" shut up, mister I just had a nasty fight with him", she clarified.
" I think he is crazy"
"No", she offended, " I love him"
"Why don't you leave him?", I suggested.
She looked hysterical and answered, " I love him"
She shouted and left the spot immediately. I sighed and went home with my lonely bag.
Notice to genius readers.
Ahem Ahem I hope you are enjoying. Feel free to say anything I need to improve. Hope I have done a good job of writer by keeping you hooked.
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The Girl with cinnamon eyes (On Hold)
RomantiekWe were born one day..... We will die one day..... We love our true beloved some day..... But, breath more than thousand days. Murk Daes, the narrator of the entire story, who had a bad childhood as his father was a drunkard, he was happy in his fun...