Chapter 7: Making My Mind Up

Chapter 7: Making my Mind Up

            I rolled my eyes. “I’m untamable. Just ask my parents. When they break down the door with a battering ram, just remember that.”

“You are a free spirit and that is what I love about you.” Alistair responded. I rolled my eyes.

Alistair kissed me, hard right on the lips. He smiled at me in his arms “See?” He asked.

I shook my head. “Alistair, I love you, but in a dramatic, passionate way like Romeo and Juliet or Edward and Bella. It is a tragic romance and I have enough stress already.”

Alistair’s eyes welled up with tears. He asked, “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I’m afraid so.” I responded.

He had tears streaming down his face. “I guess if I love you I have to set you free, if you come back, it was meant to be.’

I nodded, solemnly.

I strode to the door. I turned back. Alistair was bawling now. His hands were covering his eyes. I cracked open the door slowly.

“Please go and take my despair with you.” He pleaded through his tears.

When I did so, I pressed my body against the door. “Oh god!” I thought. The mob looked larger than ever.

As I looked among the faces, all I saw were radical supporters of crazy ideas, and killing my now ex boyfriend.

A burly man (who looked like the executioner in my fantasy) came up to me, with a battering ram in his arms. He asked, “Do you want to move?”

“NO!” I protested, “No matter how much Alistair may have a temper my romantic, passionate, stupid, tragic, teenage love for him will still thrive!”

The burly man said “Move over.”

“NO!!” I shrieked.

He knocked me out of the way, only to get stomped on by a stampede of people trying to kill Alistair.

I had a mild concussion. In that mild concussion I realized I made a fatal mistake. Alistair wasn’t fully good, but he wasn’t fully bad. That certainly was not worth breaking up over. I hated that I broke his heart. I looked inside of me. The only thing my head could be sure of was that I love Alistair and my heart beats to protect him. I didn’t just love him for the teenage thrill, because this love is real.

When I awoke, I was alone. I wandered inside. Alistair was laid beaten-up on the sofa. Darcy was strewn on the floor. I ran to Alistair. He seemed in critical condition. I kissed his forehead.

His black eyes blinked open. He smiled. “So it is meant to be.”