Only One Wearing Black

by Mirielle Skolnick, age 13
Only One Wearing Black Mirielle is a very quiet, emo writer who loves to do art and loves writing horror and romance.

“I drop down and cry. Luther holds me tight, his cold, ghostly arms against mine.”

Luther and I walk quickly out back. I show him to my dad’s grave.

“I’m really sorry, Neena,” Luther says.

I drop down and cry. Luther holds me tight, his cold, ghostly arms against mine. Leaves are falling.

“My dad made my mom so very happy, and she was nice and cheerful, and she also invited guests for dinner,” I cry.

“Shh,” he hushes me.

The reason my mom is so mean is because my dad died, and there is no one there to support her. I was supposed to support her, but I’m so selfish. I don’t care about anyone but me and Luther.

“Neena, will you marry me?” Luther asks from behind me.

I spin around. “What?”

“Will you, Neena Violet Tate, take me as your lawfully wedded husband?”

I clearly hear what he said, but I’m so nervous to answer.

“We are only fourteen and fifteen,” I say.

“I know. But, Neena, I love you, and I can’t afford to lose you,” he says, reaching out to my hand.

“I do,” I say.

He smiles and hugs me. Luther takes my phone out of my jean shorts pocket.

“Hey!” I shriek playfully.

I chase after Luther and my phone. I fall on the ground, laughing. He kneels down to kiss me, so I take my phone back, accidentally hitting the song, “The Show” by Lenka. He picks me up to my feet and dances with me. I have no idea how to dance. I’m not much for dancing but, for him, I do. I can’t help it at all. I’m laughing and dancing with him for the first time, which is incredible.

***

Dear Black Diary,

The day of our wedding was romantic, and no one was there but us and the chirping of birds. I wore a long, black dress that poofed out at the end. I walked down the aisle. Luther looked amazing with his new emo haircut, and his makeup done all black, and I felt amazing. Earlier, we had helped each other with makeup and clothing, and it had been a blast. He called me “gorgeous” this time. No one had called me gorgeous before.

He knows how to make me happy, and he knows how to make himself happy. I hope he knows how much I love him and how good that wedding cake tasted. Even though we are fifteen and fourteen, this was a great wedding and the best wedding. The happiest wedding of our lives. I know he enjoyed it. I cannot believe we got married. Who needs a ring when you’ve got love? By the way, he gave me this journal, as I am the only one wearing black after all!                                                                                                                                                                Love,                                                                                                                                 Neena Black!

 

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