Sequel: Execution Of The Enemy ›
Rehab Romances
Untitled.
“Emily.” I heard a knock on the door.
“Yes?” I asked and opened it. It was that freaky lady that didn’t like me.
“I’ve just been called by your parents, they said that they plan on pulling you out of here in about a week or two.” She smiled.
“What?”
“They want you to be ready for them.”
“What? No. Whatever okay.” I said and closed the door. I couldn’t believe my parents were pulling me out so soon. I first thought was of Frank. I grabbed my bag and rushed to his room.
“Frank. Open up. Quick, I need to talk to you.” I said knocking frantically on the door. The door opened.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asked and rubbed his eyes.
“My parents, they are taking me back home.” I said, tears streaming down my face.
“What?” He repeated and pulled me into his room.
“I know. I just found out,” I walked up to him and he hugged me.
“It’s okay.” He whispered and put a section of hair behind my ear.
“I don’t want to leave you though.” I managed through sobs.
“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” He hushed me and hugged my tighter. I pulled away.
“No it’s not. What if I never see you again?” I asked and sat on his bed. He came over and sat next to me. He sighed.
“Before my mom died, we were really good friends. I knew she did drugs and prostitution, but I, of course, didn’t know what that was. Every night my mom would come home with a different guy and everything. But, anyways, once we were at the park, and she told me that ‘ No matter where we live, No matter what we do, and no matter what happens. I will always love you. Even if we are far away or in the same house, I will love you.’ I still remember that day. I was six. About a month later…she died.” I could see him start too tear. I hugged him.
“That was the most…beautiful thing I ever heard.” I said.
“Yeah. She was a poet.”
“She seems like a wonder mother, minus the drugs.”
“She was, she was supposed to have more time. She should have lived longer, and went on to be a writer.” I noticed a tear on his cheek.
“I bet she did.” I said still hugging him.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“You remind me so much of her.” He smiled.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. Frank and I had a connection, which I did not want to abandon. I wrapped my arms around his neck and started crying on his shoulder.
“I don’t want to leave you.” I whispered through sobs.
“Neither do I.”
“Yes?” I asked and opened it. It was that freaky lady that didn’t like me.
“I’ve just been called by your parents, they said that they plan on pulling you out of here in about a week or two.” She smiled.
“What?”
“They want you to be ready for them.”
“What? No. Whatever okay.” I said and closed the door. I couldn’t believe my parents were pulling me out so soon. I first thought was of Frank. I grabbed my bag and rushed to his room.
“Frank. Open up. Quick, I need to talk to you.” I said knocking frantically on the door. The door opened.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asked and rubbed his eyes.
“My parents, they are taking me back home.” I said, tears streaming down my face.
“What?” He repeated and pulled me into his room.
“I know. I just found out,” I walked up to him and he hugged me.
“It’s okay.” He whispered and put a section of hair behind my ear.
“I don’t want to leave you though.” I managed through sobs.
“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” He hushed me and hugged my tighter. I pulled away.
“No it’s not. What if I never see you again?” I asked and sat on his bed. He came over and sat next to me. He sighed.
“Before my mom died, we were really good friends. I knew she did drugs and prostitution, but I, of course, didn’t know what that was. Every night my mom would come home with a different guy and everything. But, anyways, once we were at the park, and she told me that ‘ No matter where we live, No matter what we do, and no matter what happens. I will always love you. Even if we are far away or in the same house, I will love you.’ I still remember that day. I was six. About a month later…she died.” I could see him start too tear. I hugged him.
“That was the most…beautiful thing I ever heard.” I said.
“Yeah. She was a poet.”
“She seems like a wonder mother, minus the drugs.”
“She was, she was supposed to have more time. She should have lived longer, and went on to be a writer.” I noticed a tear on his cheek.
“I bet she did.” I said still hugging him.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“You remind me so much of her.” He smiled.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. Frank and I had a connection, which I did not want to abandon. I wrapped my arms around his neck and started crying on his shoulder.
“I don’t want to leave you.” I whispered through sobs.
“Neither do I.”