For Help You In English

** #2 in WATTYAWARDS** ** #24 in FUNNY!** **#3 in SHORT STORY** I whipped around to smell the scent of pine, cigarettes, and mint. Amused grey eyes shined, and dark, shaggy, brown hair filled my vision. His hands were in his low, dark jeans, and his muscled chest puffed out of his white t-shirt, and black leather jacket. His smirk made me tense up. "You." I glared. "Me." He smiled. The one person who could piss me off in a split second, the person who was the sole reason I am who I am today was leaning against one of the navy blue lockers. The atomic bomb just exploded in my life. And his name is Roman Quinn. DISCLAIMER: I wrote this when I was a good 12 years old. There are plot holes, spelling and grammar errors. However, this is the first thing I've ever written and somehow I am STILL proud of it and the grateful for anyone who laughed. (Even if it was just once). Viewer Discretion is Advised.

Ini bukanlah kisah tentang benci yang berubah jadi cinta, bukan juga kisah tentang seseorang yang diam-diam mencinta, ataupun kisah tentang persahabatan yang di dalamnya terdapat sebuah rasa. Ini adalah kisah tentang bagaimana cara menyembuhkan luka dengan memaafkan, berdamai dengan kisah menyakitkan yang menyayat. Kau tak di paksa untuk melupakannya, hanya perlu memaafkannya. Ini bukanlah kisah mulus layaknya negeri dongeng, yang membuat sang putri berseri. Kisah ini terlalu rumit bagi gadis remaja berumur 16 tahun seperti, Alesha Ardinata Putri.