The mystery of the deep blue

Chapter 1: Au clair de la lune

He was there. Standing, looking deeply into the sea. His tall, dark figure was still but managed to look so majestic. His eyes were teary, but I couldn't bring myself to ask him why because I knew it was for another woman... Michelle. Although I was standing to his left, his aura undermined my presence. I tried reaching for his hand, which was overwhelmingly bigger than mine, but he turned towards me before I could.

"I must see her", he calmly said, but I could recognise his shaken voice that was so close to transforming into cries. My heart tightened. It was so unbearable to see the one whom I love desire someone else. Someone that I could never be. My hand stopped whilst travelling towards his hand and regained its trajectory, but this time laying itself on his warm cheeks that woke up the butterflies in my being. I looked intensely into his beautiful, sombre eyes that reflected light from the moon before us. "Barack", I whispered softly, "please, focus on me". His eyebrows met, and a face of confusion appeared. I understood that I didn't stand a chance and that it was a must for me to abandon any romantic pursuit in his regard. But how could I? Barack was my one and only true love. He was the one that was there for me when no one else was and the one that was with me since I could ever remember. He was my sweet and cosy barrack. At this realisation, I turned my back to him and tried to run away as my cheeks were now as red as my period blood, dangerous, as it could attract his vampire self. But he was too fast. He grabbed my white pearl dress, but as I bought it from Shein, his firm grip ripped it apart, which left me topless, just like my homosexual childhood friend Keith. But what did I expect? This dress was as weak and fragile as myself since it was made by the blood, sweat, and tears of poor children underpaid in third-world countries. I sighed and covered my breast with my hands. He looked at me, shocked and flustered, and my face was soon covered with salty fluids (aka tears).

After this embarrassingly romantic event, my first thought when I came home was to write in my secret diary. 'Ta gueule' was its name; since childhood, I would write all the events that involved Barack as he had been, for the longest time, my love to whom I dedicated all my pages to. However, as I was about to open Ta geule, the second page of my diary coughed my attention. A picture of Barack and I was sticking out. I began to reminisce over the first day we met in the dumpsters full of rats.

__________________________________________

Sorry for the spelling mistakes and bad grammar. English is not my first language, as I am from brazil. I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter!

I want to give a special thank you to JDAWG and Costa Rica for inspiring me in this new writing journey.