ENTRY 22- BROKEN DREAM

Language 4 Entry Nª 22


A BROKEN DREAM (Story)

The happy couple were waiting for the bus at the bus stop. When the bus came, the boy kissed the girl in a hurry and he gave her a present when he said goodbye. It was a red rose inside a glass vase with the shape of a bottle. The girl gave him another kiss on his lips and she got in the bus. He stayed at the bus stop for a moment waving his hand to her.
She was young, may be eighteen, tall, slim, dark long hair, with a pale face and dressed very informal with a jumper, a jean jacket and a pair of blue jeans. She did not take handbag. She paid the bus ticket and went to the seats, but as there were no seats free, she stood standing holding from a bar of one of the seats. She had a dreamer’s face, she was in love and she adored that beautiful, simple red rose her boyfriend had given her. Now she could show it to her sisters at home, to her friends. But not to her mother or father, they would better not know about her boyfriend yet. In her inner thoughts she was planning to tell them that she had bought the flower to a poor woman at the street.
The bus driver took the curve of the roundabout quite fast, and she almost fell. She touched another handle with her hand holding the rose and it almost broke. The passengers could hear the tinkling of the fragile, thin glass, touching the metal handle. A few blocks more of travelling and she could get a seat at the front.
She sat quickly, and she hold the rose with both hands. She cherished the glass as she was cherishing her boyfriend’s face. And she repeated in her mind the romantic moment at the bus stop. “He loves me”, she thought. “And I love him so much, he is so sensible, it was a delicate gesture to give me this flower”, she followed in her dreams.
She got up and walked towards the bus driver and said “Stop, please”. The driver pressed the brake and she tumbled a bit and she took from another bar near the bus door with the rose in her hand. Now the tinkle was stronger, it was a crash and a splash, because the bottom end of the vase contained water. Pieces of fragile glass rolled into the hole of the gear, at the bottom of the bus floor. The water was there running through the holes in the floor until the stream reached the steps, and there it stopped. The other part of the vase was in her hand, dangerous, with its sharp endings.
She could not realize that her vase was broken. Her face was sad, she hold the remains of the flower and the vase, and looked at them as if she could fix them with magic. Why she had to take that handle with the vase in her hand? If only she could go back in time and solve the problem. But she could not.
The bus stopped, she did not say anything nor anyone in the bus said anything. The ones who had witnessed the unfortunate accident looked at her with sorrow. She got off the bus and reached the sidewalk. She began to cry in silence. She looked at the broken rose and many tears fell from her eyes.
All her dreams were broken, what would she say to her boyfriend when he asked about the flower? She had planned to put it on her night table. To remember him and how much he loved her. Now what?
She silently prayed to God wishing that this horrible irreparable incident would not be a bad prediction for her and for her boyfriend, for their relationship, for their love.
She stopped crying. She thought that she could still have the rose. It was intact inside the remaining pieces of glass. She could put the red rose in another vase on her night table. She could still look at it at night and think of her beloved, on his kisses, on his promises to her. She smiled, took the rose in her hand and threw the broken vase on the street.