Letters of love

En engelsk stil som skal handle om kærlighed på tværs af religion, kultur, familie osv.
Den skal afleveres på torsdag så håber at jeg får noget konstruktiv kritik inden. I er i hvert fald velkomne :-)
OBS: stilen er endnu ikke læst igennem


1. Letters of Love (Oneshot)

I heard footsteps on the stairway, and as louder it got, as harder did my heart beat. I opened my drawer with panic in my eyes, and placed all the letters in it, before I ran over to the bed and caught a magazine. The door opened and my mom walked in.


“Taylor, are you just sitting there and doing nothing. Haven’t you got homework to do?”


My heart was still pounding in my chest and I could feel how my hands were sweaty. It was hard to calm down, when I knew that she had nearly seen the letters from him. Oh how I missed him. But my parents could never now.


“No mom, I made them yesterday” I answered nervously.


She lifted an eyebrow and looked at me like if she read me like an open book.


“What is wrong with you? You have been so quiet and sad since...”


She gasped. I closed my eyes knowing the she had figured it out.


“...Since that wedding!”


My head turned to the floor and I could feel how my eyes got wet. I blinked fast but it only made it worse and too soon the first tear ran down my cheeks.


“Taylor, look at me” she said sharply, but I just shook my head. No way was she going to see me cry because of him. He was married now, and it was stupid to put my life on hold because of that. I had to get over him, but I just didn’t know how.


I looked at my mom. Somehow I was surprised that she hadn’t yelled at me yet. I thought she would be mad at me if she found out about him, but instead she looked at me with such compassion that it almost scared me.


“I was in the same situation once” she said quietly and began to explain how she was in love with this boy who never looked to her side. But what she didn’t understand was that her story was different from mine.


“But mom” I interrupted.


“He loves me too”


My mom stared at me with a look in her eyes that I couldn’t read.


“Are you saying that the only reason he married that girl, is because his parents wanted him a Muslim wife?” she asked.


I didn’t even nod, even though she was right. I was afraid of her reaction, because if there was something she hated, it was when parents thought they should decide who their children could marry.


“But that’s insane Taylor!” she said angrily and looked at me like if it was my fault.


“I don’t want you to cry over that boy anymore. He’s not worth it”


I wanted to protest but before I could, she went out of the room, and slammed the door. My heart was still pounding in my chest and the letters were still locked in the drawer, just like our relationship. What we had was hopeless now. My mom had made me realize that he was married, and that I would never be a Muslim girl. Even though I wanted to.

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