Writing Prompts

II | Prompts I've Used #2

Genre: Romance ♥ ⚤

Prompt: It's Valentine's day, and you receive a text message from an unknown number. Hesitantly, you open it up to find a passionate declaration of love. If only you knew who it was from...

You can also read this in my "Short Stories" collection by copy and pasting this link: https://www.wattpad.com/1014140400-short-stories-valentines-day-prompt or click on the external link which should be attached!

It's raining again when I leave my apartment, each drop of water a painful reminder that it's going to be another lonely day. It's Valentine's day, and for years I've managed to act like I don't care, that I don't mind being single, that it doesn't bother me that when I leave my dreary office job today, I'll walk home to no one. I don't even have a cat.

But it does bother me. I've always tried to reassure myself it's just a commercial thing, a way to entice buyers and for businesses to make money. They sell and people buy and take home the heart-shaped chocolates and specially selected flowers home to their loved ones. Because some people actually have someone to love, but I don't really have anyone.

I have no memory of my parents, I don't remember anything outside of the care system, getting tossed between reluctant foster carers and children's homes where people would spoil your stuff and prank you on the daily. It didn't matter, I didn't ever really have anything special anyway, and I pranked other people just as much as they pranked me. However, when I was released from the care system when I turned sixteen, I began to realise I really did have nothing. I had no family, no friends because I'd moved around so often and had found nothing that really clicked. My social worker helped me find a job, and I've just worked up from there.

My job at the office is nothing special, I'm an administrator, but it pays well, and my apartment is simply but well furnished. I can even afford a king-sized bed, but since I'm alone, I've never bothered to buy anything larger than a single.

It's common knowledge where I work that I'm alone, I take the emergency Christmas shifts, I don't take many vacations. I'm always there to help someone finish something, to do work that needs to be done. Sometimes it feels like all I do is work, and then I go home to the television, which has always felt strange without children fighting over the remote and someone having a shouting fit in the background. In the care homes, I've been to, watching tv was far from peaceful. Still, now, I'd get anything to hear that racket again, to feel not alone.

I head to the bus stop, pulling the hood of my khaki green jacket over my straightened hair, tucking my arms across my chest. Drops of water splash up onto my ironed straight-leg pants, soaking the trainers I wear on my commute. I take the bus like do every morning, the people bustling around me on their way to work. Valentine's day doesn't ever feel like Christmas, it's not obviously around. There's no lights in windows, no time off work, no obvious signs that anything is going on (unless of course, you wander into a mall). Still, I know what day it is, and I know there'll be card exchanges and gifts floating around in the office. And I know I'll have no part in it. I know that once again I will be working overtime, that people will be going on dates with their loved ones, and even if they're not in a relationship, they'll have friends and family to spend it with. I guess in a way it's my fault. I've isolated myself from everyone because I've never really understood how to form long term relationships after being passed to and fro your whole life.

I sit on the bus, already tired again, and prepared to close my eyes for a quick nap before my stop, but then I hear a ping on my phone. I assume it's from work. I rarely get texts from anyone or anywhere else. Then I notice it's a number not registered on my phone. I raise my eyebrows. I open it, expecting it to be spam or the wrong number but instead I get this: