How I Accidentily Posioned My Valentine's...

Note: Hey, I’m back! Although now don’t expect me to write prompts every week all of the sudden. I haven’t used Reedsy in a while and I have noticed they haven't done anything about the 5 pound fee if you want to enter the competition, which is just downright annoying. As I was publishing this, I noticed that the last prompt that I had written was also about valentine’s day. Since my last prompt, I have developed as a writer, at least I hope so, so here’s my story and I hope that you enjoy!

 You know, I hadn’t MEANT to send my girlfriend to the hospital, but things like that just happen. Well, I’m not specifically talking about poisoning people’s girlfriends, I just mean that sometimes in life, you’re not always the one in control and things happen that you just can’t help, so just hear me out. It’s Valentine's day and today I’m taking out Anne, my girlfriend, to Row’s Romantic Diner and I still haven’t bought her any presents as I spent all my time studying and studying and studying. And any time that I’m not at school or forced to do free labor, sorry, I meant to say chores, I’m working my part-time job at the local movie theater. I remember that I had looked at my clock, seeing that it was only one hour until our date at Rows’. I had grabbed the keys, ran through the door, forgetting to lock it as always, and rushed to the nearest flower stand that was run by an elderly gentleman who called himself Mr.Myers but close friends called him Bob. Just as I had got there, I noticed that his table was empty. I had asked if he had any nice flowers but he said all of them had sold out, as demand was high; laughing as he wheezed that even the old gray flowers that nobody had bought for a week were sold for fifteen quid! Not that I cared. When I heard the bad news, I rushed off once again, tripping over My.Myer’s stand as it crashed into me. Mr.Myers started shouting and cursing at me as I scrambled onto my feet, dashing down the street to the nearest store that I could find, which in my case was the Co-Op in the high street. There was one droopy flower left, and half of the petals fell off the unidentifiable plant when I lifted it up. But hey! I thought, it’s the thought that counts! I then ran down the bread and pastry aisle into the chocolates and sweets section, which once again, was practically empty seeing as everybody had already bought something for their loved one for Valentine’s day. Although, far behind the vast nothingness I found a 70% reduced metallic box of sweets that had a layer of dust so thick on it that the dust on the box created a fluffy layer, which was not nice in the slightest. I ran the items through checkout, as it came to a price of 97 pence. I put the dead flowers and very questionable sweets under my arm and rushed home. When I had gotten to my unlocked door, I checked the time. I remember having a small sigh of relief that I still had nearly fifty minutes until the date, as I got dressed into the smartest suit that I owned, forgetting to tie my tie, and I ran through the front door, barely remembering to bring my ‘interesting’ presents along with me. I had glanced at my watch again, seeing that I had around 45 minutes left. I had loaded google maps, which told me that the restaurant was thirty-seven minutes away, meaning that I might still have time fuel up my car as the tank was nearly empty. Let’s just say that it was a very stressful time, with a lot of shouting and cussing at…well, myself, really, seeing as you can’t blame the universe for not pausing time for you. In the end, I was nearly 20 minutes late, but it’s better late than never. I guess. I could see that Anne was irritated at me for being late, and looked very skeptical of my, quote-on-quote, presents. When I was at the gas station, I pulled out the gas pump in a rush, spilling gas all over my white t-shirt, so there was the whole thing of returning home and changing it, making me ever the more late. We ordered, and were told that it would be a forty-five minute wait because the kitchen was very busy at the moment, so we decided to open up the ‘box of chocolates’ that I had bought for her. The lip opened with a satisfying pop. She had said that ‘it’s the thought that counts’ upon me telling her to try the chocolates, which now that I think about it, isn’t exactly the nicest thing that she should have said. Smiling, Anne popped three chocolates into her mouth, describing them as very flavourful - in case you didn’t get it, it’s called SARCASM- and she popped two more in her mouth. As I had started to reach towards the box for a handful, she started coughing and then began to choke. I’m going to stop writing what happened there because it’s just one of those things that you do not want history to repeat. Apparently, the bland chocolates that I had bought her were peanut and cashew flavored, and she was highly allergic to peanuts. As I later found out, the only reason why I hadn’t noticed that they were peanut and cashew flavored was because of the thick layer of dust on the box, so I hadn’t read the label of what it said seeing that I was in such a hurry.

Afternote: Surprise, Surprise, Anne isn’t my girlfriend anymore. Also since then, I have gotten my A-levels and…yeah. Now I’m going to find a career path, and find a lifestyle. Cya guys!