Dear Cupid,
This is totally stupid. I don't get why I have to do this.
My therapist says that I have to write a letter to the person I hate the most in the world. I don't think she meant you, an utterly fictional Roman mythical god of desire, affection and erotic love. I think she meant someone real, maybe. But no. You are the person I hate the most.
I really don't know how this letter's meant to go, since she told me to "reconcile" with you, and tell you I'm sorry. I have nothing to be sorry for, and to be honest, neither do you. I think that's quite a big hole in her plan.
But I'm going to do this anyway.
So how should I start?
I hate you. It's not just you, I guess. I hate "love" in general, and you're just so readily associated to "love". My therapist says that I'm like this because of my childhood - not that I had a bad childhood. No, my childhood was actually pretty normal. Apart from the fact that since the age of three, I've been trained in Kung Fu, Judo, Boxing, Taekwondo, Karate, Muay Thai, Fencing and Wrestling. Maybe that's why I have anger management issues, have to go to classes and see a therapist. Maybe it's the reason I am writing to you now.
And why do I hate love? Because it affects me.
I have this dream. In the dream, I'm still kid, still in Kindergarten. I look at my hands, and they're squeezing sand. I look up, and my whole world stops.
It's this boy. The moment he comes, I feel happy. I feel loved. I feel complete. I'm flying, soaring in the air, and I can breathe. I feel my cheeks flush.
"Marry me, Ade," he says.
All I can see are his eyes...they're green. This beautiful green.
So why do I hate you, Cupid? What's this weird dream got to do with you?
...Why? Why do I hate you?
Because of what happens next in the dream.
"Yes," I whisper.
That's it. That's the end.
And I have no idea if it's just a dream, or if it's reality. I may or may not be engaged to the most amazing guy in the world. I have no idea, and that pisses me off. But it's more the feeling this guy gives me - completely bliss. I've never felt that before, in real life. And so I'm pretty sure it's a dream.
And that's why I hate you. Because you represent unattainable love.
Anyway, I'm sorry. There. That should please my therapist. I'm saying sorry. I'm not actually sorry, but I think the therapist said the point of this was for me to "reconcile".
She told me to mail this letter. I have no idea what your address is, so maybe on the front I'll just write "Cupid". This letter will probably end up in some recycling plant, somewhere. Or more realistically, in this uncaring and un-environmental world, it'll end up in some landfill, covered in sauce and nappies.
For the record, I am kind of sorry. It's not your fault I hate you.
Adrianna
P.S. I also have to give a copy of this to my therapist. I don't think it's so she can actually read it (the masterpiece of a book it is), but to give her more material for our sessions. After two years of weekly one-hour sessions, you kind of have no more to say. Anyway, I will probably write a different letter to give to her. A less crazy letter.
"Done," I said, putting down the pen.
"Finally," Keri replied, annoyed, rolling her eyes. "Mail it later. It's about to start."
It was my turn to roll my eyes.
"Why are we even here, Keri? All school events are beyond lame."
"Since when have you cared about lame?"
I didn't take offence. She was totally right. I was not the epitome of coolness - or whatever was classified as coolness in an AmericanHigh School.
"Besides, this school event isn't lame. It's cool. See, all the cheerleaders are here."
"And they make it cool?"
"No," she said, rolling her eyes. "They just prove the coolness of this school event. Loosen up, and enjoy. They're going to have some serious hotties today. I know you're brothers are hot and everything, so you're used to being around hot guys, but try and act more like a girl and just drool over them like everyone else, okay?"
"First, gross. They're my brothers." I had four siblings, all older than me, all boys. Two of them were still in University, but the older two were out of school. Henry was a professional wrestler, and Eli was a quarterback playing for some football team in Chicago. "Secondly, we see all these "hotties" every day."
"But we never have the chance to buy one," she pointed out. "You are going to bid for a guy, right?"
"Hell, no. Count me out of this stupid thing. I'm only here because I owe you one."
"Whatever, Ade. It's about to start."
Everyone was going quiet. I relaxed in my seat, and massaged my temples, preparing for the hour or so wave of boredom that would engulf me.
The lights flickered off, and I sighed. Here we go.
This wasn't some sort of underground teenage human trafficking, or whatever you could be thinking. It was just a boring, stupid, High School Bachelor Auction.
There was massive tension in the room, as everyone waited for the first hot guy to come on stage, and there seemed to be a united intake of breath when we heard some footsteps, drawing closer. The curtain opened, to reveal...
Mr. Hale. Our forty-something-year-old head teacher, who thought combing his hair over would hide the fact that he was balding. Severely.
There was a ripple of laughter, which Mr. Hale immediately silenced with a death glare.
"Welcome...girls... to the Annual Kednall High School Bachelor Auction," he said, his voice frosty and disapproving. It was clear that he didn't think this was "appropriate", and wanted to scrap the event, but everyone knew that it brought in over half of the money made by school sanctioned events every year. "Today, girls, you can purchase a Bachelor of your choice, and he will be yours for two weeks."
He took a breath, and carried on.
"Before it starts, I would like to remind you, that even though you have bought your...Bachelor, you cannot force him into anything...inappropriate, that he...doesn't want."
Titters went through the crowd. It was a well-known fact that Amber Hale (his daughter) had almost raped the hot quarter-back she'd bought last year. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that she was incredibly drunk and high.
He was obviously a great Dad.
"Apart from that fact, enjoy the event. Mrs. Sandy will be the commentator. Raise your paddles, if you want to bid. I think that is simple enough. Shall we start?"
There was mass cheering, and he couldn't get off the stage quick enough. Everyone shook their paddles in the air, in excitement, like it was some sort of really sad rock show. The kind that was hosted in a school.
I didn't join in this because, one, I didn't have a paddle because I had no intention of joining in this stupid event. Two, because I wasn't excited. Three, because like almost everything else related to school, it was incredibly stupid.
Keri seemed to be enjoying the yelling, though. She even stood up. God, how embarrassing.
"Enter, Bachelor number one!" Mrs. Sandy yelled, probably from behind the curtains.
A song started blasting through the speakers.
"It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes..."
Typical.
The curtains opened, and everyone went wide. Girl rushed to the stage like groupies, screaming as Jason Murray, the quarterback Amber had almost raped last year, strutted his way down the stage.
His smile was real - the seemed to be enjoying it - and his blue eyes twinkled in the stage lights. Every step was perfectly timed and spaced out. That totally stunk of "I-practice-every-day-in-my-bedroom-in-front-a-mirror".
Bidding started at twenty bucks. Immediately, Amber Hale's paddle shot up in the air. She didn't seem to care about the scandal see was creating. Good. Glad to see someone else who didn't give a crap about what other people thought.
Jason shied away from her, probably remembering the almost-rape event. He eye-begged his girlfriend to bid, but she wasn't paying attention. She probably wanted to bid on someone else. Bidding continued, but he was eventually sold for seventy-five bucks, to Amber Hale. He almost started crying.
This event was shaping up to be as boring as I thought. Even Keri's excitement subsided, after over twenty different guys came on the stage, and left. She'd bid twice, but never actually bought. Now she was just idly flicking through the programme as the corresponding Bachelors came on. The most exciting that that'd happened was when Mrs. Sandy choked on a biscuit while she was commentating. You ask me to describe the sound? It sounded like a duck on heroin, choking on a biscuit.
After about an hour later, when about a third of the girls had left with their Bachelors, I'd actually managed to drift off a little.
Then Keri spat her coke out, coating the table with gross little coke droplets.
"Oh my God, I can't believe it...he's back."
"What?" I said, mildly annoyed. She'd just woken me up. "Who's back?"
"Nathan. He's the last bachelor in the programme! I can't believe he transferred back..."
"Nathan? Who's he?"
She stared at me, her eyes wide. "Come on, you have to remember him! Nate! The little boy who used to live near you! He was in our kindergarten class for about a month. He moved to Italy, or something."
I shook my head. "Doesn't ring a bell. Wake me up when we have to go."
I was drifting off, just as Keri shoved against me, and I was brought back to the present. My eyes snapped open.
"Nathan's coming on," she hissed, not even noticing my burning hatred for her. Her eyes were too fixed on the curtains.
"Keri -" I moaned. My voice was drowned out by the music.
"It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes..."
My eyes returned to the stage, deciding to kill her later. What's the point of learning about a billion martial arts, if you couldn't use them on your best friend every so often? My gaze flickered back to the letter lying on the table.
In this world, did love even exist any more? I've lived long enough to know that the love in the movies and books was totally unrealistic. Didn't this event sort of prove it, as well? Girls had to spend money and BUY guys now. No romantic parking-lot first meeting. No "oops-I-dropped-my-books-and-now-this-hot-guy-will-pick-it-up-for-me-and-our-eyes-will-meet". No beautiful, heart-warming first kiss. No, Love was as real as Cupid. Totally not real.
Oh, God. I stared at the letter. I was pathetic, wasn't I? I was obsessed about some guy in a dream. He probably didn't even exist.
For the first time ever, I closed my eyes, and prayed. Not to God, but to Cupid. You can call me stupid, you can call me idiotic, but I took a giant leap of faith.
Cupid, if you're real, I'm only going to ask this once. Show me that boy.
Nothing happened.
I sighed. I knew it. He wasn't real. It was stupid to get my hopes up.
Sudden screams made me open my eyes.
And it was like the blurry image in my mind had been sharpened. It was his face... It was definitely his face... It was the boy from my dream...
"Bidding will start at a hundred dollars. Do I have one hundred? Yes. One-twenty? One-fifty?"
All the while, my mind was blank.
It was him, it was really him, standing here, in front of me.
His eyes twinkled, and he seemed to be looking at me - just me. The smile that spread over his red lips was so cute. Immediately, a hundred images rushed back to me. It was like the barrier had been broken. I had thousands of different images, stored up, just of him.
And it was only now, that I could remember them.
"Nathan..." I whispered, so softly even I could barely hear myself.
He looked so good now, so tall, so handsome. He stood confidently, running a hand through his blond hair with brunette highlights, pushing his fringe out of his eyes.
Nate.
My Nate.
Suddenly, the rest of my senses returned to me, and I heard "One hundred!".
Mrs. Sandy sounded quite surprised. I knew why. No one has ever bid that much before.
But he was my Nate. The boy from my dreams. I couldn't just let him go.
"One-twenty."
"One-forty!"
"One-sixty."
"Do I hear one-eighty? One-eighty? Going once."
Nate.
"Going twice."
My Nate.
"Going -"
I grabbed the paddle from Keri's surprised hand, and stood up.
"Five hundred dollars."
My voice rung loudly and confidently through the whole hall. Everyone fell silent. All eyes were on me.
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Sandy was flustered. "Did you j-just s-say...fi -"
"Five hundred dollars," I repeated. I looked at Nate. He smiled back at me.
"Oh, uh...is anyone going to match that?"
No one spoke. It was a well known that I was the scary fighter girl with anger management issues.
"Going once. Going twice. Sold, for five...five hundred dollars."
Nate, still smiling, started walking towards me. Even movement was so perfect, so beautiful. Just like him...God, I'd missed him. With each step, my heart thudded faster. He was coming towards me, he really was... I was going to be with Nathan again. My Nathan...
He was right in front of me, now. Smiling, he holds out a hand. I look down at it, and slowly, my trembling fingers reach towards his. Our hands touch, and there's a spark of electricity. It tingles from my fingertips, up my arm, making my whole body tingle.
Nate...
Everyone is watching us, but their faces are all melting away, replaced by nothing but a blur. In the world, there is no one but us.
Nathan pulls me up, and hugs me close.
I melt against his muscular, toned body, and breathe in the smell of his cologne... It felt so right... like I was where I belonged.
Then he leans in, and whispers, his breath tickling my ear.
"Do you want to go to your place or mine?"
I pull away, with a gasp. His brown eyes are twinkling mischievously. Wait...The boy from my dream had green ey-
The conclusion was quickly formed in my logical mind.
Nate wasn't him. I was an idiot. He wasn't the boy in my dream.
I'd just let him hug me in front of everyone.
So I just do the thing that was only natural.
I pull back my fist, and punch him full in the face.
***
Author's Note: I hope you liked the beginning of my new story! XxX
Is it confusing? PM me if you are confuzzled by this beginning ^_^
VOMMENT!!!!!