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A Burning Rose: Book One

A Burning Rose: Book One

P.L Waites

Update: 2022-12-16

Chapter 1

  • Ora
  • 2020
  • Today is the first day of University and a new journey for me. I started a part-time job over the summer. This was not my ideal choice but I work in a coffee shop, which helps pay the rent to a small apartment I have been living in since I was seventeen. I have been able to save up some of the money earned for my tuition too. I’m alone with no one and nothing much to my name.
  • My parents died in an explosion that occurred at a hotel while on a business trip. It was featured all over the news and media. We had everything, and I was their only child.
  • When they died, I had to give up our house and what was left of the money and I was forced to look for a small apartment. That is where I have been living ever since. The money didn’t last, and I had to sell many of the things we owned until I had nothing more to give away.
  • That’s how I ended up working in the coffee shop with no experience. Fortunately for me, the owner was kind enough to offer the job to me.
  • History has always fascinated me. From war to the Queen, and everything. My ambition in life is to become a history professor someday in the future. So, this is my first day at Beacon university to make that dream come true.
  • I walked down the building’s corridor, where some students were walking, standing around and chatting with each other, laughter erupted from one group as I walked past them to my classroom. I’m always one to be punctual. I don’t have friends, and I’m yet to develop the need for them. After what happened last year, I have learned that friends can stab you in the back, and I’ve never fully recovered from it.
  • No one was in my history class when I entered it. I walked further into the classroom and took a seat at the third desk in the middle row. I had a pair of black skinny jeans on, a black t-shirt and white converse sneakers. My straight brunette hair was loose, and I had a natural makeup look on that still made my golden brown eyes stand out. It was only for my first day. I am a petite, yet curvy, young woman.
  • I took my history books out of my satchel and placed them on top of my desk. I set my satchel on the ground beside me and crossed my legs, opening my books to get ready for the lesson. I grabbed the pen with my right hand, sitting with one elbow on the desk and rest my head on my hand as I read through a page about the Treaty of Versailles.
  • I heard shuffling as the students entered the classroom. One thing about me is that I prefer to be alone and only talk when it is necessary. I now shift and lean against the back of my desk, never taking my eyes off the passage that I am reading from the textbook.
  • The last year taught me a bitter lesson- never trust anyone. Not even friends, because they will do anything to destroy you, even when you did absolutely nothing wrong to them. The embarrassment that I had to face hurt me, and I just had to take it all in.
  • Being alone is far better than trying to fit in. It also doesn’t have to make me a people pleaser. Whenever I spoke, I would be spoken over. So, I would remain quiet.
  • “Hey, do you have the rest of the semester’s schedule?” A girl whispered behind me.
  • I page through my textbook, taking out my semester schedule, turn around, and hand it over to her. “Thank you,” she whispered with a smile.
  • I turned back around, and I heard a throat clear, just as I wanted to keep on reading.
  • “Welcome to your first year at Beacon university. I am Professor James, your history professor.” I looked up from the textbook and my breath hitched, making me feel like someone had sucked all the air out of me.
  • My heartbeat was the only sound that I heard and nothing else.
  • His magnetic blue eyes held my gaze and he seemed to be frozen into place as he looked at me. This feels like a nightmare and a dream wrapped up all in one.
  • He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with me, and I looked down at my textbook, hoping for this to be a dream. I move my tongue over my bottom lip, to moisten it from being dry.
  • I swallowed as my throat feels dry, too. “We will be doing the Treaty of Versailles for a start.” He said. His voice still sounds the same and I took a deep breath as I looked up to see if he was truly real.
  • I find his eyes already on me and I swallowed again. I do not know whether I should leave or remain seated here.
  • A guy in front of me plops a stack of pages on my desk and that broke our eye contact. I move my hair behind my ear as I took a page from the pile and pass the rest to the back. I focus my attention on the page instead.
  • I cannot look at him because of what happened.
  • “Following the July Crisis in 1914, an unexpected war broke out. Austria-Hungary then declared war on Serbia, prompting the majority of European powers to enter the First World War. The July Crisis, as you may know, was a series of interconnected diplomatic and military escalations between Europe’s major powers in 1914. As a result, World War 1 broke out.”
  • I listened to what he was saying but my mind was not on the lesson at all. My throat feels like it’s closing up and the next thing I find best to do is to leave the room.
  • I packed up my things in a hurry and I heard him ask, “Miss Marshal, is there a problem?” I remain silent and continued packing my things. I feel immense heat, as if I had been in an oven baking for too long. I stood up and sling my satchel over my shoulder as I hurried out of the classroom.
  • Cool air hit my skin as I stop outside the classroom door, and I close my eyes letting out a sigh of relief. Opening my eyes, I began to walk down the hall. I need to get to the bathroom so that I can spend the rest of the class period there.
  • I heard a door slam shut, but I do not look back at all. “Miss Marshal!” I heard him call after me and I hasten my pace, but then I feel a hand grip my wrist, stopping me. I turn to look at him and his brows were furrowed. “Why did you leave my class without permission?” he asked with his jaw clenched, and his blue eyes dark.
  • He had never had this attitude before.
  • It developed after what happened to us.
  • “Get back to my class!” He demanded. I swallowed as I feel the sparks like electricity as he maintained his grip on my wrist.
  • I breathe in his familiar delicious scent. “I don’t want to cause any harm to you,” I said.
  • “I told you to get back to class.” He repeated while holding my gaze.
  • “You shouldn’t be touching me.” I said as I started to feel suffocated by him, and he let go of my wrist like he had gotten burned. He took a step back and kept on holding my gaze.
  • The man that I had hoped would not see me again was standing right in front of me. I would not waste my tuition money, but I could try to change classes even though it was going to be something I would hate.
  • I cannot face him even though I try.