Welcome to the Wattpad Block Party - Summer Edition III!
Round SIX of this popular event is coming your way the entire month of August 2017 and it's going to be epic! The invites have started to roll out and everyone from your all time favorite Wa...
The brunette was supposed to speak too. She couldn't. She could only whisper. She did. She stood right beside the casket, her hand on it and whispered, over and over again, "When are you going to wake up Blake? It's time to wake up."
The funeral ended. The body was buried.
It took a while for the brunette to smile again. But she did. One morning she woke up and the pain wasn't there. The boy was still dead, but she was okay.
THE END.
Oops! Bu görüntü içerik kurallarımıza uymuyor. Yayımlamaya devam etmek için görüntüyü kaldırmayı ya da başka bir görüntü yüklemeyi deneyin.
So, that's how the story could have ended. Since this is a short post I'll add a sneak peek of a story I'll start uploading once I wrap up a couple others. In the spirit of dead boyfriends, I give you the prologue to MY BACKWARD ROMANCE. Some of you might have already seen this. I hope you enjoy it nevertheless.
Oops! Bu görüntü içerik kurallarımıza uymuyor. Yayımlamaya devam etmek için görüntüyü kaldırmayı ya da başka bir görüntü yüklemeyi deneyin.
My Backward Romance
Prologue
Usually stories start with a girl meeting a boy, and that girl and that boy falling madly in love with each other, and living happily ever after.
Sometimes you get a meaner writer though, and the happily ever after turns into a "the guys dies and the girl is miserable." But again, the story ends here. Because what's the point of writing about the messed up continuity? What's fun about writing the story of a heartbroken girl?
Me, me, look at me!
I met Matthew in a bar. I was working that night—my boss knew the manager of the bar very well and most of his groups played there. I was the manager's assistant; thought beer attendant might have been the correct term. That was all I did all night—running around with beers. The prior week, I had inadvertently spilled a beer on a guy because I was clumsy like that, and that night, Matt came to see me. He was friend with the guy and kept pushing to get my phone number. He said it was the least I could do for his friend since I had ruined his shirt and all. The said friend was named Davyn and while Matt had been talking with me Davyn had his arms pretty much wrapped around another girl so it was easy for me to assume the phone number wasn't for his friend. We ended up talking, and it just clicked.
