Juniper

chapter 8

Jenna begrudgingly walked into Mr. McCartney's English class, with a cloud of apathy hanging high over her head, she plopped herself down at her desk and wrapped her arms around her head. The girls In her class just exchanged looks of digust, pointing at her and rolling their eyes.

Paul walked into his classroom, he glanced at the slumped girl at the desk closest to the door and frowned. He noticed the other girls rolling their eyes at Jenna . A soft sigh escaped his lips as he waited for his morning English class to begin.

The bell finally rang and Paul clapsed his hands together. "Alright class, so we'll be reading some tragic love poems today"

"To help give you all some idea of what I mean when I say 'Tragic love poetry"

"Our first poem is one of my favorites. Edgar Allan poe's 'Annabelle Lee' it's a beautiful poem, so much sorrow and melancholy"

"The biggest loss anyone in life could experience is the loss of true love"

"Dying by the hands of lifes ultimate foe, the Grim Reaper, Death himself" Paul looked in Jenna's direction as he finished his sentence.

But Jenna as usual was not paying attention to this, for her mind was far away, not paying him any mind. Paul sighed quietly as he pulled out a book.

"so" paul continued.

"I want you all to pay close attention while I'm reading, get some idea's" he flipped to a page in the book, and paused for dramatic effect as he read the poem 'annabelle lee'. Every word paul read was starting to hypnotise her. Even though she wasn't even looking at him. When Paul had finished reading the last most haunting line of the poem. He looked over at Jenna, who was biting her lip looking away.

Paul turned away, and continued the class, reading poetry. When Paul had finished reading the last poem. Jenna had finished writing hers. She placed it on her desk.

The bell rang, signaling for the end of class, she left the poem on her desk, before walking out, internally hoping he'd see it and read it.

When everyone had left the class, Paul had looked warily around the room, his eyes slowly glancing at Jenna's desk. where a white sheet of paper had caught his eye, he quickly walked over to it, picking up the paper and skimming it. At one point his eyes stopped and paused. His eyes seemed to let a small tear roll down his face.

The poem was beautiful, deep, melenchaloly and absolutely from the deepness and core of the soul. He knew she had written it about him, and in that moment, he realized how badly he'd fucked up . He needed her back, and he was going to do it in any way he knew possible.