For WolfofthePine's story Contest!

Song of Inspiration, as given by Remus: 'Better than Me' by Hinder

Sorry if it's late & not well written!

Chapter 1

Memories of a Girl Once Loved

by: Cozy_Glow
I looked at the curtains, the same colour as Anne's night gown, as the lightly fluttered in the afternoon breeze. I sighed as the memories of Anne floated about my head and echoed in the room. Soft, sweet, innocent. She loved this room. She loved this house. But now... I ruined our love by being stupid.

"Maybe you should get help, you know, chat about it..."
"Shut up! I don't need you! Or anyone!"

And when she left, I was no romantic, just a mess. I thought I could live without her, forget her, but I was a dumb fool to ever think that. I looked at the bed, before laying down to smother myself in guilt and memory. I'm glad she's gone in a way, because there are better guys out there! Better than me, anyway...
Looking at the ceiling reminded me of a spring morning after we had just painted it. We’d stayed up all night painting the house. Anne and I were painted in all sorts of colours after a fun-fight we’d had a few hours before we finished. We just stayed snuggled together on the floor, looking at the ceiling, wondering about the future and so on.
I turned over to forget those memories. They haunt me like a ghost in a Gothic mansion. The more I tried to forget, the more Anne’s voice seemed to attack me, wanting me to drown in the sorrows I caused. She could kill me anyway she wanted, and I would let her.
I stood up and left the room, trying to escape the lies and guilt and pain I’d caused. I stopped out the door of the study, seeing what was not there: Anne. She liked being in the study, it had everything from electronics to pictures. I went over to a draw stand and opened up one of the draws to find it had one thing left: a box. One of Anne’s, I would guess.
She really could do much better than me…
I sifted through the box of notes. They were old love notes and song lyrics, ones she and I made up. I would’ve thrown it back in the drawer, had my fingers not touched a photo. I held it up to see it was a picture of me with Anne at a wedding. The wedding had been a friends; and we’d met there. I put everything carefully back away and wandered around the house.

“Why did I do it?” I asked myself countless times over. “Why was I so dumb? I was I not the better one for her…?”

I know, deep down, how dumb I was and how I will never find someone better than my Anne… and it pains me deeply.


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