His Last Rose

her heart hurt. he didn't understand his feelings. she decided to end it all. he wouldn't let her. she fell in love, with the wrong boy. but when the other man appears in her life, can maysilee find the one she truly loves?

he loves me, he loves me too.

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3. The Alley Boy Returns

“Maysilee Yearner!” Mr. Bruce called from the front of the classroom.

“I’m here,” I mumbled, staring down at my desk. Word had somehow gotten out about my close encounter with the rapist man. Now all of my classmates, in all of my classes, stared at me, trying to get inside my head. I wouldn’t let them.

“Maysilee?” Mr. Bruce called again.

I raised my hand this time. “I’m here, Mr. Bruce.”

“Good, good.” Mr. Bruce continued on with attendance before turning to face us. “Now, today we will be taking notes on the body and its separate functions. Please take out your notes. Can someone please tell me where we had left off last class?”

“The reproductive system,” Nate Damison called, laughing, from the back of the room. He sat with the other four trouble makers in my year, Todd Jennings, Andy Lewison, Liam Reed, and Chase Thomas. They all made me sick.

“Very funny, Mr. Damison. Can someone else tell me where we really left off?” Mr. Bruce asked, shooting the boy a look that signaled they were pushing their luck.

“We were looking at the different compositions of the white blood cells in the body.” Tianna Miller said from the back of the room. I'd been friends with her once, before I had begun cutting, and she had abandoned me after I told her, saying eventually I’d kill myself, and that she couldn’t be seen with someone like that.

I doodled absentmindedly on the edge of my notes as Mr. Bruce began his lecture. My hand sketched the alley, and what I assumed the rest of my mysterious saviour looked like. Then I drew my sisters, and my hand, cut and red. I began to lose myself in my drawings, expressing my feelings, taking out my anger.

“Maysilee, can you tell me the composition of the blood?” Mr. Bruce asked, giving me a  look signifying that he knew I wasn't paying attention.

Panicking slightly, I glanced down at my notes, hoping for something that would give me a hint so as not make a complete fool of myself. I flipped through my pages furiously, and finding nothing, slowly picked my head up, defeated. Every pair of eyes was on me. Self consciously, I put my arms under my desk, hiding my wrists, and opened my mouth to speak. “I—I don’t know,” I stammered.

There was a faint giggle from somewhere in the room.

“Maysilee, you need to pay attention. How do you expect to learn if you don’t try?” Mr. Bruce said, scolding me.

I could feel my cheeks getting warmer. “I—” I started, but the sound of the bell cut me off. Within an instant I grabbed my bag and pulled the sleeves of my hoodie over my forearms, suddenly becoming very self-conscious about everyone watching me.

I didn’t bother stopping at my locker to grab my coat, I just walked straight out of the school.

Without looking back, I ran down the sidewalk, before stopping at a park bench a block away from my house. I pulled out my sketchpad and began drawing. Who it was, I didn't know, the pictures just came into my head and I expressed them onto the rough paper. Brown hair that was tossed in random directions, yet surprisingly cute, blue eyes that shone whenever he looked at you, a smile creeping across his diamond shaped face.

I had drawn Chase Thomas.

Gasping, I remembered his laughing face from Science class today, and then looked back at my drawing. 

The faces were identical.

I shoved my pad back into my bag, and began walking again, though pausing when I reached the alley. It was pitch black down there again, so it was practically impossible to see anyone. Without a doubt I was getting my hopes up, but still I wondered if the helpful stranger was still down there.

I took a step closer to the entrance, trying to distinguish the shapes in the shadows. Until I saw one moving slowly towards me.

“Looking for someone?” The voice asked, right at the edge of the barrier between the light of the sidewalk and the dark alley, so that I couldn't see their body.

“Not someone I know the name of.” I admitted. “I just owe them a thank you."

“For what?” I noted the curiosity in their voice.

“Saving me.” Why I was telling the stranger all this, I didn't know.

“Oh.”

“Do you know where I can find them?” I asked. I felt slightly awkward, talking to the darkness of the alleyway, but something inside me told me that the voice was my mysterious hero.

“Yes.”

“Well?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go.” The voice said, before I heard footsteps running away, they grew fainter, until I heard nothing. They were gone.

I sighed and continued walking back to my house. All the while, I couldn’t stop thinking about the boy from the alley.

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