FicWad

Flowers of Despair.


Chapter One.


It wasn't as if anyone got hurt. It wasn't like she meant for anything to happen. She was just trying to see how far they would go to please her. She bit her lip as they stood less than 2 feet away. She could see the gun in John's hand and Michael looking fearful. She closed her eyes and her thoughts drifted. How did it come to this point?


Emmaleigh Marilyn Clark smiled at Betty Kane, a friend she shared a locker with. She flipped her long, bright red hair back as she looked in the mirror. Betty was sulking as usual but Emmaleigh was bright as she was bubbly. She towered over Betty's small frame of 5'3, herself being 5'6 with hazel, green eyes.


Betty finally smiled as Emmaleigh's boyfriend, John Gerald Pierce, walked up to them. Emma smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. He was tall thin and on the swim team. She loved the way he smelled everyday coming from swim practice. The chorine mixed with Hollister cologne smelled so appealing to her. It was almost as good as the fresh cut grass she smelled on him every week when he came over to cut her mother's lawn. His short auburn hair was wet and somehow it made it even darker. She gave him another kiss as he wrapped his arms around her waist.


"I guess you're not mad I had to cancel the date last night?" John said softly against her lips. She shook her head as she saw Betty sulk away from the corner of her eye. Betty had a crush on John since Emma had known her, but longer than that Emma had been dating him. She shook her head as his fingers tugged on her shorts. He frowned at her. "Aren't these a little short?" He murmured gently but in a firm way, showing his disapproval of them. She shrugged.


“They let me in with them." she said defiantly. John grabbed her hand and they started towards her first hour. Or so she thought until she found herself face to face with John's locker.
"Put these on." He said simply without ado. She shook her head at him. John didn't deter. However, he shoved the pants in her hand and steered her towards the bathroom. They had been in these epic battles before. She decided to humor him and pulled his swim team sweats on. He stood next to the bathroom and smiled as she came out covered up.


"That is so much better. Now you don't look so much" He leaned closer to whisper the word in her ear, "much like a tramp." Emma smiled back at him.


"Now you don't have to worry about everyone seeing what you're fucking every night."


John glared at her. One thing, other than her, he was serious about was his reputation. He was the school's local STATIC LINE president and took a very public vow to not have sex before marriage. Guess where it ended up? In the trash alongside with the used condom; another broken promise threw away when the opportunity was right. He continued advocating something he clearly wasn't practicing. He grabbed her wrist and his fingers tightened around it.


“We’ll finish this later. I'm going out for lunch and you're coming" He walked away, stopped halfway down the hall and blew her a kiss.


"Like hell I am!" She said under breath, turning away, but not before returning the kiss. She hurried to go to her first hour, French. Something she was good at, something that took little effort for her to still come out looking like the winner. The teacher was her least favorite out of the six she saw daily but she made a remarkable impression on the teacher. Quickly it was known she was the teacher’s pet. Her best friend, Etta Tory Navix was sitting in her seat as she walked in. Tory, as everyone called her, raised an eyebrow but before she could question her, Mrs. Hansen started class.


The next two hours went by flawlessly as Emma had the 2-hour block of AP English. The class she succeeds in above all the rest. She loved the extensive writing she went through to be in the class. It was elite, only the best of the best and she had more than glad to be in it. She had looked down at the paper as she made words appear across the page. Nothing in the world gave her nearly as much satisfaction as writing did. She hated what she was writing but hating it made it better. She hated anything good she had ever written. The teacher, Mr. O’Shea, had picked hers to be read aloud about the evil in not just Heart of Darkness, but in everyone. The way he read her words made her melt inside and she wished he could go on and on just reading to her and no one would be around to cough or disrupt the beauty that was his. Alas, the bell rung at 12pm as she slowly gathered her books together.


“Miss. Clark, can you wait one moment.” He called.


She smiled inwardly at that suggestions but nodded her head and waited. Two girls in her class who were so quiet she didn’t even know their names waited to talk to him also. She had lunch and was happy for any reason to delay the lashing John was going to give her. Mr. O’Shea just smiled at the two girls as he explained in his omniscient delightful voice. The girls smiled at him as they left. Emma looked at Mr. O’Shea and knew why the girls needed so much “extra” help. He was only 29, a decent age, with the palest grey eyes she had ever seen. She knew by experience that sometimes when he looked at you, it felt like he was looking deeply into your soul. That he had stripped you naked and knew every little detail, every evil deed and yet somehow, he accepted it, perhaps reveling in it. She knew he had done things that no human being would admit to and because of that he could accept what you had done. She yearned to know his secrets and all of his thoughts. He was 6’2 thin with the body of an elite Baseball player. His hair was honey blonde and he kept it on the longer side and messy. Another factor she liked about him. She wanted to do something dangerous and dark with the man standing in front of her.


“So, are you interested in doing that?” His dreamy voice came through her daze. Emma jumped and the look on her face must have showed just how rattled she was. He chuckled that velvety laugh and sat on the edge of her desk. “Miss. Clark, pay attention, you can get to your boyfriend just as soon as I get done. Now the essay competition,” John suddenly banged on the door and interrupted Mr. O’Shea.


She held his gaze for a second and quickly said, “Yes” as he handed her the permission slip. She just shoved it into her purse as quickly grabbed her backpack as she got to the door and glared at John. He was smiling at her and the whole school as he sashayed through the halls and out the door. She pushed her hair back as she made it a point to give him a kiss on the cheek as he opened the door. A teacher managed to stop John just before he pulled off.


“John, can you grab this list of stuff for us?” Miss. Likuryuopier asked as she handed him a mile long list of food for the staff. John smiled, accepted the money and slowly pulled out of the parking lot.


Emmaleigh pulled her shorts on as she looked at John. He was smiling slowly at her as he held her close. John could never let her go. She was too dear to him and she was his everything. He started kissing every inch of her flash not covered and asked her, “Do you know how much I love you?”, in which he received silence that was her. He knew she was useless without him and he didn’t mean to lose his temper but when she said things that were out of place…. He kissed her cheek gingerly and she pulled away.


“Emma, you know by now, I don’t mean to lose my temper with you like that but you can’t say thing like that. You just can’t. You know what that could do to my reputation.” John whispered in her ear. She shook violently and began dry sobbing into his shoulder. He rubbed her back and cooed in her ear; “its okay, I know. I know you don’t mean to do the things you do.” He kissed her cheek gingerly as she continued crying.


Emma took the permission slip out and saw a calendar attached to it. She had to meet with Mr. O’Shea today and discuss what the topic was going to be. She rubbed her cheek. It burned still where John had slapped her. She was glad there was no mark for her to try and hide this time. He normally was Prince Charming but he had a flaw or two and if she didn’t push him so far, he wouldn’t have to do it. You figure she would of learned this a long time ago when it first started but she didn’t she still tried to irk him and then he had to make her remember her place. She felt a tear fall down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. She continued with the Economics problems she was doing. After a while, Betty leaned across the aisle to slide a note.


Betty: Emma; Are you okay?

Emma: Yeah, I’m fine.

Betty: Why were you crying then?

Emma: John and I got into a silly little fight.

Betty: Over your shorts?

Emma: How did you guess?

Betty: From the lack of them now.

Emma: Yeah I guess one can see that

Betty: Hey Emma, if something is going on, you can talk to me. We shared a locker for too long not to be friends.

Emma: Promise not to tell?

Betty: Mmhmm.

Emma: Sometimes I think John might be better off without me and I get clingy and no matter what he tells me, I still get mad at him so he gets mad at me and thus, we fight. I love him soooooooooo much Betty.

Betty: That’s a nice problem honey and you know he loves you too much to ever let you go silly girl.

Emma: Thanks, I feel better now.

Emma died a little more as she turned back to her Econ problems.


Mr. O’Shea smiled deeply at her. “Now whatever book you choose I am fine with as long as it’s a classic.” His voice boomed from his chest and made her feel warmth she barely remember ever having with John. She faked a deep smile. She just wanted him to think of her as his equal. She would read something so deep, so intelligential, and so mature, he would be astounded.


“What renders as a classic?” She asked making sure to keep eye contact. He made everything so much better. He made her feel better. She would go home, face John apologies and become weak as her true nature but until then, she could be brazening bold with Mr. O’ Shea. He could fill her emptiness. He could save her, if only she knew how to tell him all of this. Instead she kept her mouth and smiled at him.

“A classical would be Beloved by Toni Morrison, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy or Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. My favorite of the group being The Great Gatsby, the fate that befalls Jay Gatsby is admirable. To die for love is something I have always found the most beautiful trait in literature.” His eyes looked dreamier than she had ever seen them. He seemed to be dreaming his own star-crossed fate, in which he was both villain and hero to his lovely damsel. His eyes seemed to fall out of focus and she didn’t dare make a sound. She loved this look on his face. She closed her eyes so she could remember it forever. She needed a picture. She wanted to paint him, he was inspirational. She silently took her expensive digital camera and silently took a picture. CLICK.Damn, she had forgotten about the click it made. At least she had the picture. Mr. O’Shea smiled softly at his pupil, as she silently put the camera down. He came over to her desk and sat on the edge. “Emmaleigh,” the sound of her first name rolling off his tongue sent a jolt through her body. “What inspires you in literature?” His eyes gazed into hers.She felt lost in a moment and just smiled. “I like the darkness, the dangerous, the romance, the fear, the sense of what is wrong but doing it anyways, the way the characters decide their fate and I love a terrible ending.” She said in a completely different voice than her own. It sounded so womanly, so grown up and she loved it. She bit her lip for a moment and then tilted her head towards his and slowly met his lips. He didn’t pull away and she was so glad. She felt sparks radiating between them, the heat he gave was amazing. With a low groan, he pulled her closer to him, so she could feel the strength of his chest and the need urgent within him.She wasn’t just his student anymore, she more. She meant more. They would write their own wicked tale with immoralities and deceit.
Chapter Two.
John waited patiently outside Emmaleigh’s home.