Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search Login Register Extras
Fiction » General » Writer's Craft Collection font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Midnight Memories
Fiction Rated: T - English - General - Reviews: 1 - Published: 02-09-09 - Updated: 02-09-09 - Complete - id:2633347

A/N: Notice the first letter of each sentence... XP


The Dance Floor

Apologies silently drifted through the crowded room.

Ballads played in a torrent of torturous melodies as the girl stared blankly at the shadows. Clad in a sapphire-coloured gown with her hair combed, she watched as the couples moved to the centre of the floor before closing her eyes. Dancing slowly, they fell in a treasured moment together that wouldn’t be shared with anyone else.

Everything the girl wanted; the others had.

For six months now, the boy she had adored so much had passed away. God had taken her sweet lover back home. Her boyfriend had promised to bring her to graduation and his parents had confided to her that he had been planning to ask her to marry him.

Instead, he was lying in a cold coffin, and she was completely alone.

July had come so fast; she couldn’t quite believe that she was graduating. Kansas University had accepted her in biology; she had always desired to become a doctor. Lately, though, her fire had been extinguished. Many people had encouraged her to keep going, to force herself to forget him. No matter how considerate they were, though, she simply couldn’t move on.

Opening her dark brown orbs, she trained them on the door. Perhaps, if she got up right now, she’d be able to cross that doorframe without bursting in tears. Question marks lit up her friends’ eyes when she traversed the gymnasium, her head down. Reaching for the doorknob, she suddenly felt a burst of cool air hitting her, and she instantly felt much better. Senses alert, she stopped moving and suddenly she knew.

“Thank you...” she whispered, realising who the presence was.

Under the rush of the fans overhead and the intensity of the night, she had forgotten the promise he had made to her. Velour skimmed her skin once her arms fell against her dress, her shoulders slumped.

“Waiting for you,” he had told her, “is all I’ll do once I’ll be gone, my darling.”

Xylophone notes drifted over as she raised her head to the ceiling, knowing that the man she loved was here with her. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow; he’d never forget her, just as she would never forget him. Zealously, she turned around to face the crowd, knowing that she’d never forget that promise as long as she lived.



Return to Top