The light blue doorA Story by Kirsten KvaaleHe took far more than just his keys the night he walked out the light blue door. He took the only few parts of herself that she loved; The way she could forgive as though meeting a new person for the second time, the way she could trust as though he was pouring the blood directly into her veins, and the way she could love as though he was the only colour visible to her eyes. She missed who she once was. Another idea that her tired mind loved was the fact that she never had to pretend around him. Everything was so real; and if everything was gone now, nothing was real. She sunk into her bed and allowed the edges to hug every inch of her body. Oh, how she longed to be held throughout each of the frigid nights that the snow would fall on. Her mind and body were starving, but she neglected any signs of urgency. Breathing was much harder with a broken heart, so she ceased to continue. If only she had made her way to the light blue door, she would've found a skinny sheet of paper, and it all might have ended differently. "I still love you. I still need you. The snow seems colder than usual since I've been gone and my mother has been getting tired of me once again. You are my smile. You are my everything. May I please come home now?" © 2013 Kirsten Kvaale |
StatsAuthorKirsten KvaaleAlberta, CanadaAboutSixteen year old aspiring writer Currently in eleventh grade more..Writing
|