Lorde's Short Stories

[I'm Not The Only One]

Hello, I see you've managed
to find my little place where I
like to write. What's that?
Oh, you want to read
some of my stories. Well,
I suppose I could show you
a few, but you're going
to have to promise
something, okay? No
plagiarism! Everything
here is 101% original,
unless fan-fiction which is
highly uncommon, as
I haven't written fan-fiction
in a looong time.... but oh well!
Follow me, and we shall have a
great time!

[I'm Not The Only One]

Entry To: Lady Luck's ☂ Writting ContestⅠ

Inspired By: When You're Gone -Avril Lavigne

Word Count: 948



When You’re Gone

Man, this is so embarrassing. I didn't mean for anyone to find me like this. Like what, you may say. Eye-liner has been heavily applied under and over my eyes, as well as my eye-brows. My eye-lashes are also clumpy,the result of mascara soaking them, and half of it is dripping down my face! I am covered in fresh cuts and bruises, plus my nails are black and ripped, and my hair is a mixture of red, black and pink, I look like a total mess, I'm sure. But I didn't just magically become emo, ha-ha, no. There's a whole story that goes with that one.

It all started a year ago, on a sandy beach in Los Angeles, California. All the beautiful girls had their bikini's on and were flirting with the guys. But me, what was I doing? Sitting on the sand in my short shorts and a t-shirt watching the waves gently lap against the sand, glistening in the hot sun. I didn' even realise someone had been approaching me, until I turned and saw a guy with no top on and just his shorts, sitting beside me with a goofy grin on his face. And honestly, it was the first time my heart had actually beat faster for a guy. And then began what I thought was a sweet dream, but all sweet dreams turn into night mares, sooner or later. I found that out the hard way, as usual.

Our first date will always be permantly memorised in my brain. That night, he asked me to go back to the beach, where he'd have a...surprise waiting for me! My mind was obviously twisted and munted from his sweet-talk, and nobody, I mean not even my mother and family, have ever done or gotten me a surprise. Not even for my birthday. So of course I said yes. I went home then, and got what money I had, and went on my first ever shopping trip. I got myself my first dress, which was a horrible purple, frilly thing, and diamond high-heels that got lost on the beach. We danced and kissed all night. But now, I can actually sympathise with Bella Swan from Twilight.

I’ve always needed time on my own. It was never very long, only a half a day or so, just to set my mind and thoughts straight, nothing big. And he always knew I’d come back, no matter what. I don’t think he ever saw me cry, because I never actually did cry, I was actually totally and unconditionally happy, for a while at least. I considered myself mentally strong, fearless and brave, until the day he walked out on me.

It’s only been four days since he left me, but it feels like four years, to me. My mother has constantly been calling my cell phone and home phone, probably to demand a visit or something. I’ve never really liked my mother, always telling me to become something I’m not, getting angry when I couldn’t do something perfect. Recently she’s been trying to marry me off, even though I explained to her I already have a boyfriend. Or did anyway.

One of the hardest parts, I think, has got to be the same bed. My heart breaks in half every single time I see the bed made up on his side. I also manage to wake up at two in the morning most nights, when I get cold because his body heat has gone.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so useless and unwanted before. I’ve never had any friends, or boyfriends, until he came along and was nice, caring even, to me. Ever since he left me, and it’s been getting annoying actually, every little thing I do reminds me of how happy I once was with him. As in, if I see a couple eating ice-cream together, I cringe and walk the other way. If I see a black Labrador, a little part of me dies inside. It’s even become that when I turn the T.V on, and the sports is on, I begin to cry.

Sometimes I wonder why I had to choose the sloppiest boyfriend in the planet! I used to tease him about it then, but now it makes me even more upset, seeing his clothes lying on the floor beside the bed. I went over to them and picked them up, and they smelled just like him. I collapsed onto the ground right then and there. You really don't want to hear what's going through my head at this moment either, though good guessers may guess.

I guess I’m still telling you my story though.

Once upon a time, I believed that he and I were made for each other. And he seemed to believe it to, unless he was faking it. But the saddest thing, I suppose, is all I ever wanted was for him to know, everything I’d do for him was with my heart and soul, and all he thought I was doing was putting on an act. An act to make him stay with me.

Well, I hope you don't think of me as the poor little emo girl who had her heart broken in half, and fell in love with the wrong guy, like I know everyone will. But it's not going to bother me for very long, as even though he broke me on the inside, I still love him with all of what's left of me, and I'm going to get my happily ever after, just not in this world, not on the planet, just up in the clouds, waiting for him to join me.