My Personal Hurricane

My Personal Hurricane

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WpMetadataReadIn corso<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeUltima pubblicazione dom, mar 4, 2012
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Narrativa
Storie d'Amore
Storm is left as a young girl at only twelve cold and alone after watching her mother die right in front of her. Her father had been dead for years. Now at the age of seventeen she was what her classmates called her, emo. She was not the sterotype emo where she cut herself but she did wear dark clothing and chit has happened to her. Storm has no friends and is a sarcastic, no bullshit, done my way girl. When a new guy starts going to her school she finds him following her like a lost puppy. Storm has finally met her match, but can what will she do about him?
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He once told me no one knows the real him.I didn't think he meant it, and not in a good way. He is a straight A student, and everyone knows it, not to mention he is on the swim team. All that though isn't the real him, the real him hides deep within himself. ---------- "Can you please tell me what that was?" I nearly shout at him. All I get is silence. He keeps his back to me. "Please, I need some explanation." I beg. I stay still as he stops dead in his tracks. His body is tense and it's scarring me. He turns around slowly to face me with his hands at his sides. His eyes meet mine, but there is no spark of any emotion in them. They are cold and dark making me look away not being able to hold his deadly stare. I feel uneasy under his gaze, and i feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of my face. "No, I won't explain because it's not important." He says in a low, almost, growl. I flinch and look back into his eyes. I feel hurt by his words and I don't know why, but I know he sees it in my eyes. His faces flashes with regret but it's quickly covered up with his faces going back to it's hard cold look. I feel my heart stop and my face go pale. His look terrified me making me hold my breath. "Breath." He orders. I start to breathe again and just blink at him. "Now go." He orders me again. I flinch involuntarily at his tone and jump back slightly. "Please don't let me walk home alone." I beg in a quiet voice, looking down at my feet. The next thing I see are his black combat boots right in front of my shoes. I look up into his eyes and he looks down into mine confusion written all over his face. "How come you aren't running yet?" He questions searching my eyes. "I just can't walk home alone, please I'm scared." I hear him chuckle. "You aren't afraid of me? What can possibly be scarier than me?" He asks. "Well, I know you will keep me safe." "Why is that?" He questions raising an eyebrow at me. "You haven't hurt me." "Yet." He mutters, but I roll my eyes.

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