Literary Force Magazine Literary Force Magazine Volume 2 | Page 78

The Black Dahlia
The man was legendary. In fact he was the best anyone can ever ask for,
according to the entire school. He was the football star, the class president and the
handsomest boy around. Every girl had him on their wish list and yet he wished
upon none. He was surrounded by fame, but it was not his looks that would get you
hooked, rather his way of being. He was a very enterprising person. Gingerly
treated as if a golden egg. From time to time we’d banter in class. I don’t know
why he ever picked me. Many sweet flowers in the garden yet he chose the wanton
black Dahlia. I tried to warn him that all I’d do would detriment his heart. He
believed he could change me, but he was wrong. In a bountiful manner he gave me
his heart and I unintentionally crushed it like a bug. Naturally, the love cycle came
to be once again, I loved and I was crushed, I was loved and I crushed and that
person who I crushed became nothing but a dark soul who did nothing but crush
others. From dark to darkest I went, and from time to time I wished I had loved
him the way he once did. For a dark soul as he should have never come to be.

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