On my 17th Valentine's Day, I received a rose, my first rose. Yeah, it waspathetic that thiswas my first time that I received anything on Valentine's day; itwas pathetic that itwas not something Iwas expecting for; itwas pathetic that I didn't feel joy and happy. It wasfrom someone that I suspected, yet not expected. However in the middle of my physics test, whe the messengers came to our class and lay the rose beside my test paper, I felt a weird look from the teacher. Without looking at the card, I knew who send it. That person caught me by surprise. I didn't know how I am going to react this or what was my reaction at that moment. For the rest of the class, I tried to concentrate on my test but once a while I would look at the rose and have an uneasy expression on my face. Shouldn't I be happy? Shouldn't I be glad that I received a rose before I graduate? Shouldn't I be in love with whoever sends the rose? Thosewere the question I couldn't answer. Maybe if I were todig deeper I would have an answer but then what is the point. It would only make me feel worse than I already am.
As time ticked by, I was more and more stressed out by one question on my test. I was frustrated. Finally, the bell rang and the teacher took the test paper. I packed up the books and took the rose in my hand. As I walked out of the classroom, student for next class rushed in. Some asked me who gave you the rose? I didn't know how to answer. Whywas it so hard to answer? I knew who sent the rose. Yet, I remained silent and walked to my locker. I wasn't in a good mood and it was not only because of the test. At the same time, thes/he the rose walked toward me. I didn't know what to say. Clearly, there was no way for me to hide it. I knew I should say, "Thank you." Or "It's so nice of you." Or "It's so pretty!" Or anything to that effect, but I couldn't. Those words didn't come out of my lips at that moment. Instead, I said something else and it didn't sound pretty but then again, I kept my anger and frustration, at least as much as I could.
I ended up holding a rose in my hand as I walk home. It looked weird. At least I thought it was or maybe it wasjust me, afraid of people finding out my deep secrets based on the rose in my hand. The rest of the day went by quickly and my mood just became worse and worse. I felt like bitching; I felt like crying; I felt anything but happiness. I went online and searching for some comfort, for some love and for some signs of happiness. Yet, what awaited me was not something I wished or wanted. There were people having a worse Valentine's Day than I am; there were people who were crying and there were people who didn't give a shit. I waited and nothing happened. Finally, I gave up and tears remained in my eyes.
A/N: Howz your valuntine's day? hope it'sbetter than this one. anyways R&R Please thank you (p.s. I apologize for the grammar mistake in the piece and also, this is just a one shot story. All those questions such as who send the rose and etc will remain unanswered. This is just her feelings on that day and use your imagination if you may to seek the story behind it. Thank you)