Title: He Loves Me
Subtitle: He Loves me Not
Genre: Horror, Mystery/Thriller, Teen Fiction
Description:
Piece:
The white petals danced in the air like twin ballerinas, slowly spiraling down. The dim sunlight that shone through the cracked, dusty window reflcted off of the delicate petals as they fell through the musty air. They landed on the rickety, untrustworthy wooden floorboard, red quickly racing up the soft, tiny grooves, painting the pure petals crimson red.
"He loves me." Her smooth, distant yet angelic voice echoed around the decaying room. The sharp rose thorns were digging into the skin on her fingers, but she couldn't feel the pain. She only could see the white rose in front of her, the one slowly losing its precious petals.
"He loves me not," she whispered in the same, unchanging voice; sweet and calm. Her dark hair fell forward, over her shoulder. The ebony strands opposed the lacy white dress that cladded her petite body. The sleaves, flowery lace and peaking skin, travelled down to her elbows but disappeared at her collarbone. No more skin showed along the perfectly fitting dress until it ended at her thighs. But, her skin was concealed again by her white knee socks, tucked neatly into new black flats.
"He loves me." Red stained her socks, ruined her shoes, and soaked the bottom of her dress. Blood coated her porcelain hands and freckled her cheeks. The perfect white bow in her hair was spotted with specks of blood, matching her ruined dress and socks.
"He loves me not." A final white petal twirled through the air, sparkling faintly in the scarce sunlight. It took its time falling, dancing this way and that with such grace and flawlessness. But, once it touched the red pool, it slowly sank in, drowing within the crimson. The pale, blue eyes lying on the floor next to the pool watched the white turn red, the petal helpless against the thick, course blood. His blood.