World So Cold

Love is never simple. Love is never easy. There is more grey than there is black and white. Zayn Malik Fan Fiction

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14. Bed Of Roses

Siobhan

 

I am naked and alone when I wake up the next morning. I can hear my mother arguing with my father, but I cant make out their words. Beside me is a note, and it is from Paco.

Siobhan,

Te quiero mucho chica. Last night was so amazing for me, and I want to thank you for giving me a taste of heaven. A taste of heaven before hell. Every night I dream of you, I dream of what a future with you would be like. I wonder sometimes how the hell this all happened, you and I, but I am glad it did. I have something to do tonight, and I’ll be waiting for you in the morning. Meet me at the rose garden near the school, I promise it will be worth it.

Te amo,

Paco Fuentes.

The rose garden near the school was known as a hotspot for local lovebirds. Roses of all colors were in the small greenhouse that had been part of the school property. I wonder what it was that he had planned, Paco Fuentes, the romantic kind? I take a quick shower, dressing warm for the snow and make my way downstairs. My parents aren’t arguing anymore, but they do get quiet when I walk into the kitchen. My mother looks at me, her chest heaving up and down with every deep breath she takes. My father runs his hands through his hair and sucks his teeth. Were they crying? They looked sad…different. Before I can ask anything, the doorbell rings. I open it and it is Olive. She crashes into me, hugging me tight….sobbing. I cannot understand a word she is saying, not one word.

“Olive come in” My mother says behind me and leads us to the living room. My father sits beside my mother as Olive cries. They console her. “What’s going on” I ask frantically. “Mom, Dad…Olive…what happened”

I have never seen my father cry, but in that moment, he is on the verge of it. They don’t speak, instead, they just turn on the television to the local news. And there it is, clear as can be.

“HOWELL BOY FOUND DEAD IN AUTO SHOP” the newscaster says, a picture of Paco shows up on the television screen. Paco Fuentes. I fall to my knees, I feel like I have lost grip with my feelings, with my self control. I feel arms wrap around me, and I am not sure if they are my mothers, my fathers or Olives, but someone is holding me close. I am crying and I cant help it. My body is shaking and every part of me feels disconnected from other parts. Everything hurts, and I let out a sob, I know I do, but I hear nothing. The world around me has gone mute, and the arms around me tighten. There are lips in my hair, placing kisses and I know now that it is my mother. Her touch is meant to assure me, but her arms around me just remind me of what was last night.

And whose arms held me as I slept

And whose lips touched me with love

I tear myself away from her, and I leave. I cant stand to be in this house, and I cant allow myself to believe it. I make my way to the greenhouse near the school and park my car. It is crooked, taking up two spots, but I don’t care. My chest feels like its going to cave in on me, and my tears feel like icicles on my face with the cold air. When I open it, the smell of fresh flowers hits my every sense, it does nothing to soothe me. “Paco” I cry out into the empty greenhouse. I walk to the center of it, and on the ground, spelled out in rose petals is :

 

Te Quiero Mujer

“Paco” I cry out again, but nothing, its just me, and the multi colored roses, and the petals that declare his love for me. I want him so bad to come through the door and smile at me, the way he’d smile when he did something wrong. That sheepish smile, and when he’d come through the door, he’d tell me “Te Quiero Mujer” in the voice he always used to ease my nerves. He’d tell me this and I would kiss him, kiss him like I have never kissed anyone before, and I’d tell him over and over again that I love him. He’d tell me to count my blessings and I’d count him first…the way he said he’d count me first. I’d kiss away all his scars and cradle his face in my hands and I’d tell him te quiero and I would declare this confidently, with every fiber of my being buzzing with zeal. I’d kiss the scar under his eye, the one above his eyebrow and he would become a new Paco Fuentes. My Paco Fuentes.

But he never shows up……

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