Polaroids and picket fences

Polaroids and picket fences

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jul 15, 2016
He's just an exchange student interested in dance and culture. She's just an honour student with a camera in her bag. Nothing more than a big dreaming teen looking for the brighter side of life. Two teenagers meet and are always some how drawn back to each other. Will these coincidences lead to something more? When she's hit by a car and he's handed a ticket home, what are they to do in that situation? "It's a Polaroid camera," she said as she inspected it's fine details from her frozen, pink finger tips, "the pictures come out instantly." She held the camera too her eye and pressed the shutter faster than ever before, her hands jittery from the sudden interaction with a stranger. "Here," she passed over the slow setting photo and span on her heel whilst his voice echoed from behind her, calling her back and asking more questions. She sped up just as her heart rate had in that short encounter. 'Not again.' She whispered, 'please not again.'
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-Blake- Rose stands not too far in front of the ring looking at me, her face is pale and my gut twists in ways it never has. She shouldn't be here, why the hell is she here? My hands drop to my side, the victorious feeling once flowing through me is replaced with one of dread. She saw me fighting. ------- -Rose- "Alright. Time for you to go." He says. I feel the pull on my arm as he tries to take me away but my feet feel like they are glued to the ground as I continue to look at Blake. He has a little smirk on his face as he looks over the crowd. A look so completely different than any of the ones I saw the other day. Then our eyes meet, and his smirk drops. He drops his hands that were just held high in victory and looks at me like he's seeing a ghost. The guard pulls harder on my arm and I go flying back into his chest. "Listen here, I don't want to manhandle you, so do as I fucking say. Move." He growls as he pushes me into the crowd of celebrating people. I do what he says and start walking towards the exit, but I look over my shoulder one last time before I'm too far in the crowd to see anything. Blake's hands are fisted by his side and his face is red with anger, his eyes are focused on the hands that are on me pushing me away from him. ----- I am the original owner of this book, please do not copy. Strong language and themes of abuse, mental illness and violence. I don't own any of the pictures used in this story. #1 in alone 11/23/21 #1 in strong 11/30/21 #2 in boxing 4/19/22 #1 in goodgirl 5/8/22 #1 in fighting 5/19/22

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