A Promise Never Forgotten

That explains why he thought I was kidding. Ugh, sneaky little . . . gorgeous . . . oh gosh shut up, shut up, shut up!

Must clear mind of William freakin’ Beckett. I went up to my room to write a poem. I suddenly felt inspired to write. I looked out my window and right across from me was his house. Inside the top room there was a figure moving.

It was William.

I peered more out my window and noticed he had some sort of a small black notebook in his hands and a pen in his mouth as he paced back and forth in his room. Was he writing as well?

Feeling a bit like a stalker, I did the same thing he was doing. I always paced my room or sat on my bed thinking. Pacing around I came up with a few ideas.

Running
I see a face
Falling
My heart starts to race

Laying
He looks into my eyes
Blushing
I never wish to say good bye

Reaching
I take his hand
Waiting
He stares as I stand

Walking
We laugh and talk
Leaving
I can’t stop, but gawk

Pacing
He writes in his book
Watching
He’s got me by a hook

Liking
Not something I’m use too
Smiling
Something he makes me do

I read the words of the poem over and over, pleased at what I had just wrote. It had everything of what I felt about the day.

I glanced back out my window and saw him standing in the middle of the room with his eyes closed. He looks at peace and I see his mouth moving, like he’s singing.

Feeling like a stalker, again, I change into clothes I could get paint on. After changing, I started to paint. I needed to paint my room, mother’s room, the kitchen, and living room. The hallways all were going to be filled with the photography I took. Mom said she loved looking at it so she got them all framed and placed them everywhere.

A few hours later I finished painting, happy at how it all looked. My room especially.

My room had four walls, duh. Its just an average rectangular shaped room. All the way to the left is a bed and across it, at the right of the room is my table with shelves and everything. In the middle of my room is just a vintage rug on the floor with different shades of shining blacks and silver. That’s how I came up with the color design of the room.

On the wall in back of the bed is dark grey with a huge portrait of a park filled with children and a couple sitting down kissing gently on a bench. It was in black and white, one of my very own favorites I had taken. Next to my bed there is a small white night stand with stickers all over it. At least I didn’t need to paint it over all the time.

In back of the desk and shelves were also gray. So the sides of the room are black. With my chalk I drew on one black wall a rainbow and girl that looked like me sitting down looking up at the sky with her headphones on and her poetry book on her lap. The background was splattered with white paint to make it look like a starry night. I did the same for the ceiling, covering it in black and then putting white splattered paint all over and some glow in the dark night sky stickers I had.

All the other walls contained poster after poster I had found. Some from clubs and thrift shops. Some I kept saving up for, like my Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd posters. On my door I put more stickers and a big sign saying, “Slow Down.”

The living room was painted with red and white stripes. My mother always loved peppermints, so what better than a living room and kitchen that reminded just about anyone of peppermints.

Her room was easy to design. Of course I didn’t paint the room green. I didn’t want her thinking about dad. So some of the walls were covered in dark blue and then others bright sky blue. I took the remainder of the white paint and made clouds as a background in back of her bed. I placed some of the photography up and cleaned her room.

After a long day f working I retreated back into my room, with all the paint fumes out the windows. I fell on the bed and went to sleep instantly, from exhaustion. Then I woke up to a loud thumping.