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The first time I saw him, I knew it was meant to be. His long platinum blonde hair and his dark blue eyes. He was perfect in every single way.
Or at least I thought so.
My father was rich, and had engaged me to doctor in his late 40’s. I was only 15, I had no idea what to do about that.
So I ran. And ran. And ran.
My lover followed, embracing me in his arms for what was the soon to be last time.
He was not the only one to follow.
My father had sent out all his men to follow me, not even leaving the servants behind. They marched in front of him, hoes and pitchforks in hands.
I guess love was the death of us.
Or at least it was for my love.
For after he was gone from my world, I saw no use at all in watching the world in it’s harsh cheer.
So I grabbed my knife…
- by ThePeanutButterConspiracy |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 01/28/2009 |
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- Title: Love will be the death of me
- Artist: ThePeanutButterConspiracy
- Description: Tis about a girl and her lover.
- Date: 01/28/2009
- Tags: love will death
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Comments (2 Comments)
- Amvu - 02/05/2010
- Wow how romantic. You should describe her lover a little more to me though. I want to know all the emotions that linger in her head when she thinks about him. Express her feelings so well to me that it makes me want to die. Good work! 4/5
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