The Unexpected Truth

A tale of a girl, yearning for the comfort of love, and realising who she is and what means to her most in the cold and harsh reality.

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1. Frozen Warmth

The frozen wood of the bench beneath me, chilled my body to the soul. The warmth of him next to me sent a chill down my spine of expectancy and suspense. He leaned over and tactfully swiped  darkened chip from the creased paper enclosed by my trembling gloves. I glanced into his eyes for a second. A second. That was all it took to fall in love. I realised that the sickening tales of finding true love weren't fictitious, they were fact. And nothing more. 

 

It was the most sweltering summer of all the years I had been living in London. The stereotypical fog, rain and mist, draped across the ever bustling city, was a completely incorrect view of an ignorant foreigner, that I was. I had read about the polluted slums of alleyways in mystery novels, shadowed threats in crime texts, but never had I heard of what I would eventually find in the dizzying heat of that summer.

 

I trudged along the gravelled path of the busying park in frayed shorts, meaningless quoted tee, and faded converse, blinded by the brightening sun above me. I scooped up my hair and swiftly swirled it into a tangled ponytail above my pounding head. I stumbled on an overgrown stalk of bindweed and fell onto my bare knees, grazing both as my hand darted out in front of me to brace my fall. My legs stung from the gauging that the razor sharp stones gave my supple and unprotected skin. My cheeks reddened as the surrounding pushy mothers, swaggering skaters and screaming toddlers shifted their glance to me, turning their looks from empathy to thinking, 'What a silly child. Even my little precious wouldn't fall in such an embarrassing way' . I picked myself up off from the muddy gravel and brushed off the stones and their looks, as I quickened my stride. People then began to turn back their attention to their attention seeking darlings, which lifted the immense weight of being watched off my shoulders. I never liked being the centre of attention... Never will. I always have a sickening feel at the pit of my stomach and beads of sweat like dew drops emerge from my brow. Each school play I did in primary school, I always used to beg for the smallest part. Preferably one without any lines or actions that would draw attention to me. Never have. Never will.

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