My Sweet Valentine
By Dairenna VonRavenstone
Copyright 2011 Dairenna VonRavenstone
Dedication
To all my fans (even if there is just a handful of you), to my friends and my family. A special thanks to graphic designer Paul Murray who allows the free download of the chains used on the cover. My own graphic designer sings your praises.
Author Note
I will be re-working this and other titles in the New Year (2015) so expect some changes in the coming months.
Inspiration:
After writing Have a Bloody Christmas I figured I would stick with the whole horror-themed holiday idea. You’ll notice that these two (this and Bloody Christmas) are even sectioned out the same. Anyway, since I decided to do the 12in12 challenge I desperately needed another novella for my second month into the insanity, pardon, challenge.
As I’m typing this, it’s January 28th and I have 9,000 for this month. I need another 11,000. What you are reading now is my idea-gathering before I actually start writing the story. That’s right this inspiration section is nothing more than me gathering my thoughts.
As for where the actual idea for the following novella (short story/whatever this turns out to be) came from, I’m not entirely sure. I did think of the movie My Bloody Valentine and cursed the use of ‘bloody’ in the title as I wanted to use it. Then I thought of some high school nerd being scorned, going insane and killing his classmates at a reunion. But that’s too close to the aforementioned movie so I changed it. I don’t know if I’ll like it better, I’ll get back to you on that.
Part 1: February 10th
Her name was Amber. I have loved her since the day I first saw her in high school. It was September, the first day of school and the weather was balmy. She was wearing the school’s uniform kilt and her shirt was a loosely tucked in. Her silky blond hair was framed her heart-shaped face in gentle curls and waves that made her blue eyes light up. I decided then that I wanted her for my future wife.
I wanted to ask her out so much but decided that I had to get to know her better first. Some people called me a stalker but I think I was (and still am) hopelessly in love. She was perfect. Not a genius but smart enough to carry on a conversation, not super-model gorgeous but beautiful in her own way. I wanted her so badly.
This year, I’m going to make her mine.
***
The middle of winter was always her favorite time of year. It because the snow gave everything a surreal and almost impossible feel to the world. It was as if a tree was not really a tree but a piece of art covered in glittering white masses of fluff. Winter also made her remember the day her husband asked her out which was their first date during their final year of high school.
They had been good friends since the first year of high school when he told some creepy guy she had no interest in to leave her alone. From there they had a lot in common: the same movies, books and television shows. She did have to admit to herself that he enjoyed some genres more than she, and she would never want to play hockey.
It had been a pleasant surprise when he asked her to dinner one cold Valentine’s Day. She had thought she would go through her entire high school career with only one creepy stalker following her with other boys only dating her because she was pretty.
Winter also reminded her of when he proposed four years later. He was finishing his final term in business school and she was finishing her second choice in degrees once she found her original career choice as an English teacher would not work out well. This second choice had been nursing which she took up because of the ability to help people. Despite the tougher regime she loved her job.
It had been after a long day of studying that he insisted on a walk in the park. At first she disagreed to the suggestion but not because of the weather. Walking through snow made her exuberant. But she had a project to finish that was due the next day. He persuaded her in the end and half-way through their walk around the man-made lake in the park he got down on one knee and presented her with a slim gold band with interlocking hearts.
The ring was hallow where the two hearts joined, a jewel was supposed to be present there but he said he had no money for the diamond at the time (she could attest to that, schooling and basic survival without outside aide was expensive) but he knew the ring was the one for her. She said no diamond was needed as the ring was perfect without it.
Two years later, he presented her with a single diamond that fit perfectly into the ring. It had been a gift on Valentine’s Day, a holiday that she had started to warm up to since they began dating. Every year he surprised her with gifts: roses, stuffed bears that proclaimed their love when squeezed, expensive chocolates that she loved but would never buy for herself and other such things. He hardly ever gave her jewelry unless it would mean something to them as a couple.
She hoped this year would be no different, but only time would tell. Three days previous, he had been called into the office and was told he was flying to his company’s location in Texas. Depending on how well the meetings went, he might not make it back on time for Valentine’s Day.
The telephone ringing brought her out of her thoughts and she rushed through the two-story bungalow to grab the slim portable phone. She took a deep breath and hit the “talk” button.
“Hello?” she questioned smoothly.
“I’ve missed you sweetie,” came the distinctively male voice from the other end.
She allowed herself a small grin as heat rose to her cheeks. Even after being with him for ten years, he could still make her blush.
“I’ve missed you too Greg,” she replied with a little giggle.
“I’ve got some bad news, Amber,” Greg returned with a sigh.
“You can’t make it back, can you?” Amber asked before he could speak.
The disappointment must have been clear in her voice since Greg heaved another sigh. Amber imagined him running his hand over his thick dark hair.
“Well it’s not looking good,” Greg affirmed softly.
“Oh,” Amber stated.
She was not disappointed in him, it was not his fault that he worked hard and became the head of his department. It was not his fault that he had to travel to other headquarters to attend meetings every two months. She did miss him though.
“If Henderson agrees to the terms of the contract, I can finish up and be there mid-day on the 14th. There might not be any special surprises thought, but we’d be together,” Greg explained quickly.
“That’s all that matters,” Amber told him in a joyful voice.
“We can always go back to the lake,” Greg suggested.
Amber wondered when he would finally suggest that. It had been a few years since they had been back to the place where he proposed.
“That would be perfect,” Amber agreed wholeheartedly.
“Good, I’ll call once I know for sure if I can make it back,” Greg told her.
He was ecstatic, she could tell by his voice. Amber was sure he was thinking of what he could do with such a short time frame.
“All right, I’ll talk to you then,” Amber returned with a broad grin, knowing full well he could hear her smile in her voice.
“I love you,” Greg uttered.
“I love you too,” Amber said in reverence.
Exchanging the words of dedication never lost their appeal to them. The words never lost their meaning, or their spark. Amber always felt the familiar burst of emotion that made her warm all over when he said those words.
Dial tone came over the line and with a sigh, Amber hung up the phone. She was just putting the phone in its cradle when the doorbell rang. With a little gasp of surprise she began running to the door, wondering who would be visiting her without calling first. He
r friends and family always knew to call as Greg might not be there or she might be at work. She did not have a set schedule at work but neither did Greg. Somehow this worked better for them than if they had a set time to leave and go to work.
She made it to the door and peaked out the peep hole. No one was there. Amber unlocked the door and pulled it open to reveal her empty porch. A burst of cold air refreshed her and she took a single step outside.
Something crinkled under her foot and she looked down. She gaped at the dozen red roses she almost stepped on and swooped down to scope the flowers into her arms. She remained framed by the door as she peered down the street to catch the delivery man before he ran off. She saw no one on the street and because her neighbours had been kind enough to shovel her sidewalk and drive-way, there were no footprints in the snow.
She frowned lightly and stepped back into the house, locking the door behind her before finally staring at the flowers again. A single white card marred the red and she blinked at it before pulling it free from the roses embrace. It read simply “To my sweet Valentine” in exquisite gold script.
Amber chuckled lightly as she made her way to the kitchen. It seemed like Greg was all ready making sure this Valentine’s Day was one she would not forget. A chill came unbidden along her spine but she assumed it was simply from the cold. Red roses only had one meaning after all and she should not be concerned about them appearing on her front step. Greg had been doing sweet little things for her since they first met...
Valentine’s Day, 14 years prior:
Amber pulled her locker door open and glanced in the magnetic mirror she had hung there. Her hair was misbehaving, frizzing out in all directions and she wondered at her own sanity for getting it cut off before school started. She had loved her almost knee length blond hair but her friends said that the nickname Rapunzel would never leave her if she kept it so long. So she had conceited and chopped off close to two feet of hair.
She sighed and forced a large science textbook into her locker. She snatched the math textbook and shoved it into her all ready full backpack. Something crumpled and she hoped the worksheet, or notes would still be in one piece when she made it to her next class. She never thought high school would be so different then elementary school. Apparently a lot changed going from one year to the next.
Her backpack decided to rebel, as most inanimate objects do at the worst possible time. It slipped from the precarious position she had placed it in and she let out a little yelp as she scrambled to grab it before it tumbled to the floor. She almost whacked her head off the metal locker and felt a nail break as she grasped the strap in one hand and prevented the fall.
She felt as though she had just saved a child from a deadly plunge into some kind of abyss and breathed a sigh of relief. She brushed back a curled strand of hair with a grumble and flung her heavy load onto one shoulder. The sound of the locker slamming shut was drowned out by the ruckus of students moving around her. With her locker now locked she turned and almost let out a shout of surprise.
Standing in front of her was the boy that had been stalking her since the beginning of the year. He was of medium height and reed thin with greasy looking brown hair that covered his forehead. His eyes were an interesting shade of brown and despite the smattering of pimples on his face, he had good features. In his hand was a somewhat wilted red rose.
“Hi, I wanted to give this to you,” he told her.
Amber blinked at the offered flower with its deep red color and missing petals here and there. She then remembered that it was Valentine’s Day and wondered why of all the boys in the school that her creepy stalker had to be the one to give her anything. She had hoped someone else had noticed her but it was to no avail. She didn’t think she had become that unnoticeable without her long hair.
“Uh, thanks but that’s okay I really don’t have anywhere to put it anyway,” she muttered lamely.
He stared at her for a long moment and Amber realized she did not even know his name. Amber knew that even if she was acquainted with him, his appearances wherever she went in the immense high school would still disturb her.
“But I got it especially for you,” he informed her.
“Uh, thanks, really, but, um,” she tried and knew she sounded unintelligent.
“I know it’s kind of wilted and stuff but I don’t really have a lot of money. I still wanted to get you something though because I really like you,” he went on to explain with his arm still extended to offer her the floppy rose.
“That’s really sweet and everything but I don’t even know you and it’s kind of weird,” Amber finally admitted.
She tried to shrink back away from him but her locker prevented an escape. Students crowded the hallway but were uninterested in the scene as class would be starting in a few minutes. Class trumped a conversation between two strangers, especially since tardiness was met with detention and no one wanted detention on a Friday.
“Well my name is Russell and I really like you,” Russell admitted with a scuffling of his shoes.
“Um, well that’s nice but I’m not interested in boys right now,” Amber vainly attempted to make him leave.
“Oh, but I still want you to have the rose. Maybe you’ll change your mind in a few months or something and we can hang out,” Russell insisted.
He thrust the rose towards her again, his grip tight on the stem. Amber would have felt sorry for him if he had not been hiding around her for the past few months. It seemed that whenever she turned around he was there. Even if she was in the library when her teacher had booked it specifically for a class, he was sitting there a few feet away just staring at her. It was nightmarish.
“That’s okay, really. Besides class is about to start and I don’t think it would survive in my bag or locker or anything,” Amber quickly uttered and looked for an escape route.
There was none. She was pressed against the lockers as he took up all the room in front of her. Unless she was willing to push him out of the way, she was trapped. Besides, pushing him out of the way would be rude and she figured that despite his scrawny frame, he might try to grab her or something.
“Hey man, the girl doesn’t want the rose, just leave her alone,” another voice entered the conversation.
Amber turned swiftly to the sound of the new voice and stared at the other boy who was suddenly at her side. He was a bit taller that Russell and had thick dark hair with deep brown eyes.
“Who the heck are you?” Russell asked with vehemence in his voice.
Amber hoped they would not break out into a yelling match or worse some kind of physical altercation. She had always wished for two boys to fight over her when she was younger but now that it could become a reality, she wondered at her sanity.
“I’ve got the locker beside her. For one, you’re blocking it and class is going to start. For two, I’ve seen you creeping around behind her and it’s not cool,” the new boy said as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Amber recognized him and wondered how she had been so blind as to not notice him before. Between school work, socializing with new and old friends alike and Russell (as she now knew he was called) stalking her, she figured she did not have the mental capability to notice a new face right beside her.
“I’m not creeping around behind her,” Russell denied with a scowl.
Amber wondered if she could slide along the lockers and escape that way. She glanced to the open space on her right and deemed the idea a failure. Her backpack would likely get caught on the locks hanging from the lockers and she would be stuck.
“Even if you’re not stalking her, she doesn’t want the rose and you’re going to make us all late for class. Just go away,” Amber’s locker neighbour commanded and even made the shooing motions with his hand.
Russell glared at him the grumbled something under his breath. He gave Amber a final fleeting look before turning on his heel and stomping away. Amber let out a breath she had not realized she had been holding and turned
to look at her locker neighbour.
“Thanks for that, he wouldn’t leave,” Amber uttered with a smile.
His face lost the angry edge it had before and Amber noticed he had a chiselled jaw with a smidgen of black stubble across his cheeks and chin. His nose was a bit narrow for his sculpted cheeks but he was cute.
“No problem. I wasn’t lying when I said I noticed him creeping around you. He might be weird but he has good taste. I mean, not that it’s a good thing that he has good taste. Let’s start over and forget I said all that. My name’s Greg, what’s yours?”