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    The Love Sonnet
    The Love Sonnet
    The Love Sonnet
    Ebook98 pages1 hour

    The Love Sonnet

    By Radhika Bhave

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Set in 1930’s Nazi Germany, two people who were once good friends are now unsure of what the future holds for them. He is forced by his own father to be a Nazi, while she is Jewish. He was brought up in a very strict household, while she was brought up in a much happier one. Forced to be someone he wasn’t, with her he was free to be himself without any worries. When they find a way to secretly be together, things are no longer as simple as they once were. Is it all too good to be true?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPartridge Publishing Singapore
    Release dateOct 18, 2022
    ISBN9781543770513
    The Love Sonnet

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      Book preview

      The Love Sonnet - Radhika Bhave

      Copyright © 2022 by Radhika Bhave.

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      www.partridgepublishing.com/singapore

      CONTENTS

      Author’s Note

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Afterword

      Afterword

      To Mr. McGoey

      and my mother,

      without whom this book would probably not have been written.

      AUTHOR’S NOTE

      Firstly, I wish to acknowledge the lovely person reading this right now. I truly appreciate you for sitting down (or standing up, however you’re reading this) and spending time dedicated to the words and thoughts of a sixteen-year-old girl in Hong Kong, sitting in her bedroom at 3 a.m. each day and writing a story I hope you’ll love. (Joking about 3 a.m., though.)

      I want to thank a few more people who really made this possible (mostly my schoolteachers.)

      I would like to thank Mr. McGoey, my year 10 English teacher, who is the reason this even happened in the first place. You see, dear reader, this started out as a personal project (as an IB student, it’s a requirement) of my choice.

      Initially, I probably would have done something related to debate or research, due to my interest in humanities. However, he really made me enjoy English, to the point where I did more than the bare minimum.

      He really did cultivate my love and interest in reading, and I do miss when I used to stay back after class just to talk to him about what I was currently reading; he would be happy to listen every time.

      Speaking of that love for reading, I need to thank my rugby friends for always listening to me talk about the books I was currently reading (and still doing that).

      As I previously mentioned, this started as a mandatory personal project, so it would be crazy if I didn’t thank my personal project supervisor, Ms. Goodlad, for constantly supporting me in this.

      Despite being a Diploma Programme Higher Level Physics teacher, she took the time and effort to help this project become what it is now.

      And my final thank you, but certainly nowhere near my least, to my mother, Ruchi Bhave. She laughed with me, cried with me, and stuck with me throughout.

      She spent time in coffee shops with me as I wrote and sat next to me, watching what I had written, and encouraging me when I was considering putting an end to this. Without her, this book surely would not have come to be.

      Enjoy!

      Yours,

      Radhika Bhave

      PROLOGUE

      Hans woke up that day, more excited than usual. He wrote more poems the night before and had read a few more chapters of the book Abigail gave him.

      He couldn’t wait to get to school to talk about it with her.

      In fact, when it came to school, he was always really excited to go, because it was time away from his father, who also just so happened to be the scariest person he had ever met.

      But when he was in school, there was only one thing he would think about: her long locks of luscious, black hair. They always appeared soft to the touch and freshly washed each day.

      It had an amazing aroma. It smelled like peaches, roses, and purity all mixed together into one. Abigail was the one part of his life that provided him with nothing but happiness.

      Abigail felt similarly. Not so much so that Hans was the light of her life, but she loved seeing him each day. She loved his messy blond hair. She just wanted to scramble through the fluffy beautiful mess on his head sometimes.

      The two thought about each other as they got ready for school.

      They approached their school. It was a large, black building. The rooms had windows where the sunshine could peer through and a playground for the younger kids.

      Hans arrived with Günther and Ingrid, while Abigail had reached earlier, with Rachel and Elianna. They went into each of their respective classrooms.

      Hans looked at his schedule and smiled. Math, English, German, Physics, History, and Geography it read.

      Hans smiled because he knew that Abigail was in the same English class as he was. He was ever so excited to see her today, and he couldn’t make it any more obvious.

      He went into his math lesson with his required materials, but that didn’t matter. He looked out of the window, daydreaming. He tried to scribble down another poem during class, careful not to get caught.

      The next lesson was English, and he was the first one in the room. He smiled softly and sat there patiently, looking through what he scribbled down in math, adding to it. The rest of the class came in, and Abigail sat next to him.

      He felt his heart leap in his chest.

      The teacher got on with the lesson, writing down English words on the blackboard as a means of vocabulary practice. The chalk screeched against the board, and all the students covered their ears with every word she wrote.

      Meanwhile, Hans ripped a small piece of paper from his book and wrote a little note. The teacher hated students talking out of turn, and he didn’t want to get punished.

      He passed the note to his dear friend, Abigail.

      Hey, you want to get lunch together later?

      Abigail wrote back:

      Why would I want to?

      "Oh, s-sorry, I just had some poetry I

      wrote, and I wanted to show you. If you’re

      busy, though, don’t feel obliged."

      "Ha ha. I’m messing with you. I would

      be delighted to eat lunch with you."

      Oh, ha ha, I’ll see you at lunchtime then.

      Hans hid the note in his pocket, to keep it safe. Not just from the teacher, but also to see Abigail’s beautiful cursive handwriting.

      Lesson after lesson passed by, and all that was on Abigail’s mind was reading Hans’s poetry. He always came up with such wonderful poems. She needed skill to be able to read his handwriting, but each poem was filled with such beauty and intricacy in its meaning.

      The lesson before lunchtime finally came to an end. Hans saw Abigail already sitting at a table. He walked over and sat next to her. They ate their lunches as Abigail looked through Hans’s poetry and talked about it with him.

      And this line could use a little bit of punctuation …

      Whoops!

      Ha ha, I can fix it for you. But this is amazing.

      Really, Abigail? You really think so? Hans asked. Abigail elbowed him lightly.

      Ha ha, what was that?

      "You

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