It was during Valentine’s Day, on a recess, after Seunghyun slapped a band-aid on her finger and told her to stop crying, that Dara decides she's in love with him. And of course she is, because she's five, and five year-olds think infatuation is a lot like love so they don't bother to distinguish one from the other. She even goes back inside the school—abandoning the warm winter day and several rounds of sloshy snowball fight—to clue him in on her affection. She can't tell him directly, of course, because this is her first love and she's much too shy to do something so bold. Taking out a fresh piece of drawing paper and her best box of coloring materials—the one her father gave her, the one with a wide array of crayons, pastels and paint, Dara gets right to work.
She draws and colors all through recess and most of arts and crafts to finish. Her sisters look at her curiously, but after asking a question or two they shrug and go back to their own devices. After all, when Dara gets into one of her artsy moods, it's best to leave her alone. Holding up her drawing, Dara looks the paper with critical, squinting eyes and a tongue sticking out at the corner of her mouth, before smiling brightly.
It's her best work yet.
At the end of the day when Seunghyun is packing up his books, Dara approaches him and proudly holds up her picture. She's certain that the bright red and yellow and blue convey her feelings clearly. This makes Dara feel bold like Hanbyul and sure like Bom and she forgets that she's shy and that shy girls aren't so brave with their first love.
"This is my heart," Dara explains, pointing to the red on the paper. "I'm giving it to you."
Seunghyun blinks and scrunches up his face in confusion. "Why?"
"Because I want you to have...
... middle of paper ...
...he heart used to be is a mountain of band-aids overlapping one another covering every inch of red paint.
"I stuck my entire supply on it all week and you still ain't feeling better!" he accuses with narrowed eyes. "Were you lying about the band-aid thing?"
Dara doesn't know what to say so she keeps quiet. Looking at the picture, she remembers lovingly drawing it for him and lovingly giving it to him. It's ruined now, with its wrinkles and band-aids and faded colors. But it's okay, she thinks to herself, because this shows that he cares.
So she smiles at him for the first time in a week and thanks him for making her feel better again. Huffing, Seunghyun grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "Clumsy," but Dara pretends not to catch it because she's too happy that he slips her drawing back into his folder – carefully! – before stomping away.
Each one complimented the other and it was as if they were two halves of one whole. Like many things in life, they each secretly enjoyed the immediate surroundings of the other. As much as Nel regarded the neatness of her house with dread, Sula felt the house to be comfortable and relished the neatness. On the same token, Sula disliked the disarray and lack of privacy in her house, but Nel found it to be a welcome change and a taste of real life. Sula and Nel found friendship in each other, because they were both lonely people. When they were young girls, they would go to Edna Finch’s Mellow House together to purchase ice cream. The ice cream representing the end of one’s life, the real treat was on getting there. They looked forward to the looks and sly comments of the boys as they made their way to the ice cream parlor, and as most girls do, exhibited an air of indifference while secretly relishing in the attention they received. It was an ...
It was a sunny day with a sweet aroma of blooming tulips. The sunlight glittered on their faces as the breeze rattled the chestnut tree above. There was an occasional giggle as they talked, but there was also a hint of discomfort and awkwardness between them as they peeked at each other’s face and recoiled when the other looked up. When the bell rang twice, I saw them say goodbye and walk away from each other. In the darkness of the crowd, a glimmer flashed into my eyes from Hannah’s cheeks.
The unpolished floors and graffitied lockers with pictures of the Beatles glued to them indicated to me that no summer cleaning had been done at school, for what seemed like several years. As I walked, a neatly folded piece of paper, which I placed in my pocket earlier this morning, grazed my outer thigh was not letting me forget its purpose. My palms were sweaty and all I could think of was that on the first day of school, I had decided to tell my crush that I liked her. What a stupid decision. I decided to wash my hands and then put my plan into action. My walk across the hallway continued till I reached the guy’s bathrooms. Just as I was about to push the door, it opened and out ran a blonde and petite girl. My crush. Her face was surprised and her hazel eyes were
Her mascara smudged onto the fabric as a tear fell down her cheek onto the fluffy white pillow. Her headphones rested in her ear playing songs that held many memories of the recently broken up couple. The song that her and the short, blonde, and shy soccer player had slow danced to, played on her ipod. The memory of their slow dance at the valentine ball replayed in her mind as if she were still in the moment. She replayed how he asked her to the dance with a valentine gift- a box of conversation hearts. They met at the school to go to the dance and he gave her the red and yellow ticket. She was dressed in a pink and grey sweater and the gym was warm with all of the middle school students combined
She was looking at the wall while lying on her bed. The bed was not big but it was big enough for her. The bedroom was cold and her blanket covered her cold feet. Everyday, Rebecca would pick her granddaughter up form school, fed her, and laid her on her bed. This time she looked at the wall, like an artist contemplates her masterpiece after
“It’s not a death sentence,” Sophie softly repeated. And she repeated again, she notice that she wasn’t looking at her things filling her house, but she only noticed the dark shadows of her things, pulling away from the harsh hall light; the edges lost in darker hues of the room.
“Easy, Ji-hye, easy,” Unti chuckles, tightening his grip on her as he walks on over to Su’s bedside. When he speaks again, his voice has fallen to a mere whisper. “And try to keep your voice down, the baby’s ears are sensitive.”
In the days leading up to her graduation, she was so excited about receiving her diploma for her academic accomplishments, even though she hasn’t accomplished a lot in life by experiencing a little bit of it. She felt like the birthday girl with her pretty dress, beautiful hair, and the presents she received from Uncle Willie and her mother. She felt like it w...
Nonetheless, this really is a tale of compelling love between the boy and his father. The actions of the boy throughout the story indicate that he really does love his father and seems very torn between his mother expectations and his father’s light heartedness. Many adults and children know this family circumstance so well that one can easily see the characters’ identities without the author even giving the boy and his father a name. Even without other surrounding verification of their lives, the plot, characters, and narrative have meshed together quite well.
Betty was asleep on the sofa waiting for me. I bent over, kissed her forehead, and whispered goodbye. I felt my heart swell as I gazed at her. Today was Valentine’s Day. Earlier, I had bought her white lilies. I picked one up and tucked it into my sleeve. I felt guilt blossom in me. She didn’t deserve this. She begged me to stop the fighting, but I didn’t listen. “I’m sorry, Betty; I should’ve listened.”
One would expect this young child to be sad and heart-broken, yet she always comes across as strong willed, happy and quite grown up for her age. Before her brother and sister died, she recalls playing and running. Now she hems kerchiefs, knits stockings and eats her supper down by h...
Pyramus was the cute boy next door, and Thisbe the prettiest girl in the entire neighborhood. They lived right next door to each other. Their parents were in a dispute over rent money; Thisbe’s father was the manager of the apartments and Pyramus’s parents had been late on their payments for a few months now. The kids were not allowed to talk or to see each other. One thing, however, they could not forbid- their young and carefree love that pound in each others hearts. They conversed by signs and glances, and the fire burned more intensely for being covered up.
“Ding-ding,” the final school bell rang before spring break. It was Friday, and Casey Jones jumped out of her chair, excited to start a new painting for a statewide painting competition Hannah, her best friend, had told her about. Casey knew that her parents would let her enter the competition. Art was the purpose of her life. She was constantly praised for her artwork, which made her work even harder at it. This would be her second time participating in an art contest, and even though she had gotten third in her first one, she had massively improved since then.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he sputters over me, as a bead of moisture escapes the inner corner of his eye. It falls into the poor sewing job, the supposedly sealed opening of my chest cavity. Even if I still possessed my heart, I would have felt nothing.
"They found you unconscious with the necklace thingy, and they placed it on me. I feel much better now."