Room of RememberanceMature

I woke up to cloudy skies the next morning. It was Saturday, a day to allow me to regain all the sleep I lost during the week from finishing paintings. I quickly made some coffee and sleepily made my way to my sun room.

I was taken aback by the sight. There, sleeping on my couch, was that woman I told to go away last night. "Wait-" I murmured, very much confused. I walked to the door leading outside, finding it locked, "Good morning." I heard a high, velveety voice say. I slowly turned around to see a pair of big violet eyes smiling at me. My brown eyes gave her a stare of confusion, "How the hell did you get in my house?!" I hissed.

She shrugged, "I opened the door is all."

"But I knew I locked that."

The girl ignored me and seemed to fly into my house, "Wait wait wait," I ran after her, wanting to kick her out so badly, "You need-"

"You have a very great ability, painting like this," Her voice rang throughout my usually soundless house, "These are yours right?" She continued studying some of my works.

"Look, I could call the police-"

She turned her head around quickly, making some of her hair whip my face in the process, "I know you won't do that." Eyes narrowing, I asked, "What makes you think that?"

"I can tell," She winked then continued flitting about my house, bounding up the stairs, "No no no!" I cried, running up after her. She seemed to glance at every door, but didn't open any one except for the last door on the right: the one I was hoping she wouldn't notice. She flew on through the door and I quickly followed, preparing an explanation for myself.

She had opened my room of memories, the room that I have kept far away from all these five years.

I ran in and was greeted by lots of long blonde hair and big blue eyes; all my terrible memories hitting me at once. All the paintings that I ever made of....her.....were in one place: here. The woman took it all in, looking at every single one before saying, "Is this her?"

I at first gave her a look of confusion, wondering how she knew something like that, but I then merely nodded. The woman studied the paintings a little bit longer before asking, "What'd she do?"


It was our Sophomore year, and I was considered one of the awkward kids in school. I read animae and hung out with friends that I'll even admit smelled funny. Except for one of my friends: Bethany. Bethany had the potential. She had the humor, the looks, the money, everything to get on top of high school society. And instead....instead she hung out with people like me. I always asked her why and she merely said, "Because I want to."

So Bethany was a girl who did what she wanted, when she wanted. And I wanted her.

Unfortunetly, when your a girl's best guy friend, you got told of all her crushes, and Bethany's crushes were never me. Lately it was some guy named Liam. He was a year younger than us and all Bethany did lately was gush about how cute he was and how perfect he seemed for her. Frankly it made me nauseous. And it only did because how deathly jealous I was of the guy.

Then, just my luck, Liam happens to also like Bethany. So then they were going out. Then they were so madly and deeply in love that just seeing them together made me sick from all the love. But then, one text conversation changed things dramatically. Bethany ended up admitting to liking me, but telling me she didn't like me enough to leave Liam.

But I wasn't going to just give up. This was Bethany for Christ's sake. The first thing I ever painted. So I decided to fight back. I would remind Bethany every day how she had broken my heart (in a way) and I would smile when I saw her wince in pain from the thought of hurting me, her best friend.

Of course, that made sweet Liam angry, hurting Bethany that way, and he yelled at me for being so sick and cruel. And of course, as I should have expected, Bethany slowly stopped talking to me, until she never looked at me ever again. It hurt me to think of how we were friends, and how if she had never met Liam, things could have been so much different.


The woman stood in silence, taking it all in perhaps? "Where's she now?"

"Europe. Last time I heard from them she was telling me how I was the godfather of one of their kids. Pft, whatever."

It was deathly silent then. I looked at all my past paintings, which were actually pretty good even though I made them when 16.

"Anything else?" The strange woman asked me.

"Nope," I quickly lied. The awkward-filled silence came again, but the woman filled it again, "My name's Laurel."

Laurel then walked downstairs, me following, "Is there a reason why you told me your name? And why haven't you left my house yet?"

"Well Seth," Wait she knew my name? "I wanted to tell you my name because I already knew yours. And as an answer to your second question, I'm leaving right now."

And just like that, Laurel was out of my house, leaving the door open for dead leaves to blow onto my doorstep. I looked everywhere outside, but she was gone. Just like that.

The End

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