by Jasmine Rose
Not hot or sexy like those photoshopped male models I see in magazines, just beautiful. A simple, innocent beauty that takes your breath away with every word the person says. It is the kind of beauty that makes you stop and wonder just where that person has been your whole life.
“You’re beautiful,” I say and he smiles.
“Isn’t that —cough—the first thing I said to you?”
I nod, “Yeah. You told me I was insecure.”
He gives me another smile before looking at his mom.
“Mom? Thank you, for everything. Thank you for being my mom and for loving me no matter what, because I don’t think I would have gotten this far without you. Thank you for raising me to be who I am today. I love you.”
His mom lets out another cry before kissing her son’s hand.
“Dad? You’re the man. You taught me everything I know about life. You’re my role model. Thank you for taking care of me and being there for me no matter what. Thank you for being on my side. I love you. Take care of Mom and Ella, okay?”
His father wipes his cheek and nods fervently. “Of course.”
“Isabella, where are you?”
Ella looks up and makes herself look taller so he can see her. Logan ushers for her to come closer.
“Listen, you’re the best sister ever. You are amazing, you are —cough—beautiful and you are strong. I’m sorry I won’t get to see you graduate or get married or beat up some guy who wants to be your boyfriend, but I’m sure you’ll be —cough—okay. Do you promise you’ll be okay?”
Ella whimpers, “I promise.”
“Good, I love you.”
He looks at his grandparents. “Grandpa, grandma. Thank you for the cookies and the piggyback rides when I was a kid. You are the symbol of true lasting love. Please take care of each other.”
“We love you, kid,” says his grandfather, kissing his cheek.
“I love you too,” says Logan. “Mr. Wolfe?”
Dad looks up and his eyes meet Logan’s. Logan is holding up his hand slightly. Dad walks to him and takes his hand in his.
“You’ve done a good job with her. You are a great man, it was amazing knowing you. I’ll tell your wife how amazing you are to Amaryllis. Thank you for her. Thank you, sir.”
“You’re a good boy,” says Dad, getting teary.
There is a silence upon the realization that it is my turn. Logan takes his free hand and offers it to me. I take it and hold on to it. I feel like everyone else has disappeared and we are the only humans in the world.
“Amaryllis,” he smiles, “I cannot be more thankful to have met you. You made my last days happy. Please, please don’t be sad for too long when I go. You have your life and you have to live it. Promise me you’ll be okay? Promise me you won’t cry for too long?”
I can’t promise that.
“I promise,” I say, my vision getting blurry.
He raises my hand and puts his lips on it. “It was the greatest pleasure to be in love with you, Amaryllis. I’ll always love you.”
I can’t resist it. I reach over and kiss him one last time. He lets out the smallest laugh. “Always the cheeky one.”
A tear slides down his cheek, before he looks at everyone again.
“I’ll see you later, but not too soon.”
After exactly 75 seconds, he closes his eyes. His chest stops moving. A beep resounds in the room and Logan goes limp. The tear on his cheek stays there. I wipe it away.
“I love you,” I say.
And I know that wherever he is now, he can hear me and he’s smiling.
31
A thousand years
The funny thing about grief is that it sits in your heart like a monster, chewing on your veins and arteries. It consumes you and makes you feel hollow and empty. No matter how hard you try to chase it away, grief will run after you.
Going through the loss of my mom is something I still suffer through every day. I remember her. My memories of her are forever present in the back of my brain, reminding me that she’s not here to live with me.
Surviving losing Logan though, is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I feel like my soul was drained and he took what’s left of it away when he died.
“Logan Thomas Masterson was a great man. At the age of 18, he was taken from my family and up there. He was a son, a brother and most importantly, a friend,” says Mr. Masterson, holding a red rose in his hand and putting it on the coffin.
I clutch on Jenna’s arm tighter and cry on her shoulder. She hugs me from the side and rubs my shoulder. I can’t stop crying even though I want to.
“He is the most amazing human being I’ve ever known. I am proud to call him my son. He smiled all the time and worried more about others than himself. He was a gentleman, and he did good for others. He taught us to love,” says Jane Masterson, standing shoulders straight. She does the same thing on his coffin and there are now two bright roses.
The tears are falling on her cheeks, but she looks proud.
“Ella? Sweetie, come up here,” whispers Jane.
Ella walks shakily to where Logan’s body is, her lips are trembling and she is clearly struggling to speak.
“Logan is the best brother I could have asked for. He always put others’ happiness before his. He was the only person capable to make me smile no matter what. He will always be my brother and I will never, ever forget about him.” She lays down a blue rose.
No one is courageous enough to say anything, so I guess this is my turn. Jenna mutters words I cannot make out, but I think she’s trying to calm me down. She hands me two tissues and I wipe my cheeks.
I take small steps that feel like an infinity to the dark brown coffin. The flower in my hand gives me strength to say what I want to say. I look up for the first time and see everyone. Ethan, Jenna, Ryan, Logan’s family, my dad, a few teachers and several students from my school.
“There was a point in my life when I thought I would never be able to love again. There was a moment when I saw my life as nothing but misery. I used to cry myself to sleep every night, because I was heartbroken, you know?”
Ethan looks down.
“But then I met Logan. Does anyone know what he first said to me?” I chuckle, “He told me I was beautiful. I got scared, so I ran away. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Then time passed and we became as close as best friends. He would always make me smile and laugh effortlessly. His hugs were heaven, I swear.”
I take a deep breath. “But then we fell in love. Logan taught me how kind love truly is. How even when it brings you bad, it brings you good too. He made me see that love is the purest thing in the world and if you have it, nothing can do you harm. He made my life better. Even in times of weakness, he was brave and strong.”
“That’s why, I’d like to thank him,” I say, making a place for my flower among the roses, “for proving that angels can exist in human form.”
The amaryllis on the coffin stands out, looking different and fierce. I know that if he’s staring down, he’ll smile at me because of the irony.
There is a small applause within the crowd. I melt into Jenna’s arms because I feel like a weight has gotten off my shoulders.
He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead. Nothing can change that.
But for the first time in a week, I think I’m going to eventually maybe be okay.
The funeral ends when we are asked to leave so that the coffin can be lowered into the ground. Logan’s mom pulls me aside and hugs me so tight I can’t breathe.
“Thank you again,” she says through tears.
I don’t say anything.
She puts something in my hands and smiles.
“This is from Logan to you,” she says. “There are letters in there, he wrote them for you.”
“Oh God,” I say, grazing the small notebook’s features.
When I open it, there is a picture of him and me on the first page. It’s the one we took an eternity ago at the USA vs. Wales event.
He is smiling while kissing my cheek and with one hand, waving a hand-made Wales flag. I am grinning and showing off my USA shirt.
I close the notebook, not because the picture hurt me, but because I want to read this later when I get home.
Hugging Logan’s mom, I feel her pat my back.
“You’re part of the family, you know that? If you ever need anything, call me.”
“I will,” I say.
She leaves. Everyone does, with time. Dad is looking at me.
“C’mon, kiddo, let’s go home.”
He puts an arm around my shoulder and we start walking toward the car.
The funny thing about being in love is that you never truly leave the person you love. They stay in your heart until the day you die. Some people forget who they’ve ever loved and some marry those people.
One thing I’m not sure of is whether I’ll ever fall in love with someone and love them the way I love Logan. I am sure that I’ll be okay, because love is about keeping promises. I am also certain that Logan is in peace, because he is no longer in pain. He stopped suffering and this is all that matters.
That was just it; the big answer to why we fall in love.
Because no matter what happens, if you have love, you’ll be alright. It is a guarantee. You trust love; you fall and you know someone will catch you.
I look up to the sky and I can’t help but smile.
I love you, I think, I’m going to be okay.
After all, love is all about acceptance.
The end.
If you want to read Logan’s notebook filled with letters to Amy, here’s an excerpt:
Property of Logan Masterson
(forAmaryllis’ eyes only)
Go to Jasmine’s blog and sign up to get a free copy of the whole notebook.
Link to her blog here: jasmine-rose.awesomeauthors.org
Here is a sample from another story you may enjoy:
Prologue
Two light grocery bags in hand, she followed her Dad to the bright, white family car that caused them many troubles as they struggled to find it in the middle of snow. The girl opened the front seat door and slipped inside the car, completely oblivious to the look her father was giving her.
He sighed. “Lena?” The girl froze because he never called her by her actual name, unless he was serious about something. He always called her Rosie. “We talked about this. On the way here, you’d sit in front. On the way back, you’ll sit behind me.”
“Daaad! Please?” Lena pouted and widened her eyes a little. He shook his head and pointed to the backseat. He refused to give in to her, not again. Lena groaned and held out a hand to her dad. He took it and supported her waist as she moved to the backseat. She huffed and put on her seat belt.
“Happy?” she asked.
He gave her a smile. “That’s my girl.”
The car ride was silent, until her Dad put a CD in and played it. Lena grinned and sat up immediately. At the first notes of the song, she made jazz hands. Her ponytail swung as she swayed in her seat to the music.
“Love, love me do. You know, I love you. I’ll always be true,” They both sang loudly. The Beatles had always been their favorite band, even though Lena’s mom didn’t like them much.
“I love you, Dad!” cried out the girl, her chestnut colored eyes shining in exhilaration and excitement.
Her father laughed. “You know I love you too, Rosie.”
The next seconds were a blur. Between the music, their singing and the momentary happiness; there was a truck that had passed the red light and was heading towards them. Time froze, because this was a moment that would turn the girl’s life upside down.
Lena turned just in time to see the truck inches away from colliding with the car. Her dad noticed as well, and his eyes widened. She screamed. The car lurched and Lena was thrown forward violently, the seatbelt biting into her stomach and knocking the wind out of her. The sound of her Dad calling out her name was the last thing she heard before the world faded away from her.
“Rosie!”
I could hear a vague sound in the background.
I felt myself crying. For a long moment my upper eyelid seemed glued to the lower one, because I couldn’t open my eyes. When I finally could, they hurt from my tears.
My gaze settled on Mom’s terrified expression, and I watched as her face slowly softened with relief. She wiped the tears on my cheeks, although that didn’t stop them from falling again.
She patted my hand. “Was it a bad dream, honey?” she asked. I took deep breaths to steady myself. I nodded.
“I wish I turned earlier, so I could—I don’t know,” I whispered, watching as the invisible switch clicked in my mom’s mind.
“I wish he was here,” she said.
Me too, Mom, I thought. I miss him too. How often had I wished that he was still alive, and that I was the one who had died?
I closed my eyes again and felt myself drift away into another dream.
If you enjoyed this sample then look for A Unique Kind of Love.
CHECK OUT OUR OTHER BOOKS!
A Unique Kind of Love MARS The Assistant
By: Jasmine Rose By: Jasmine Rose By: Elle Brace
My Best Friend’s Brother Marriage by Law One Night with the Prince
By: M.J. Thompson By: N.K. Pockett By: T.M. Mendes
Of New Begginnings The Best Thing for Me Of Things Left Unsaid
By: Le-an Lai Lacaba By: Lauren Jackson By: Le-an Lai Lacaba
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’d like to thank my family, for being so supportive and amazing. Without them, I really wouldn’t be able to do any of this. I wouldn’t be here, writing my second book’s acknowledgments. I love you so much.
Then, of course, my incredible agent Grace and the whole BLVNP team; thank you for this opportunity and for standing by me every step of the way.
My friends, who listen to my excessive blabbing about my stories and deal with my hyperactive excitement about them; thank you! Without your constant love and support, I wouldn’t have the courage to write.
Most importantly, my fantastic fans, especially on Wattpad, I love you all so much. Your emotive comments, your everlasting humor and the way you stay on my side are what motivate me to write. Truly, I’m thankful for you.
Finally, to you, my reader, whoever you might be, I thank you for reading this! I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I loved writing it.
~Jasmine Rose~
About the Author
Author of Fiction Romance book "A Unique Kind of Love" Jasmine Rose is a young girl from Montreal, Canada who dreamed of becoming a professional writer. She started writing on Wattpad, a free site for budding writers who wanted to be heard and readers who appreciate a great piece of work.
In a very wonderful twist of events, one of her stories got over 11 million reads in total which launched her career as a Teen Romance Author. For those who want to get in touch with her, feel free to email her at
[email protected]
For updates, go to her blog: http://jasmine-rose.awesomeauthors.org
and her facebook page: http://facebook.com/authorjasminerose
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[1] John Green, Author of “The Fault in Our Stars”
