There were two 17 years old teen. A boy & a girl.
They both met online.
After time they had grown to Become best friends.
The girl lived in Dhaka and The boy lived in Bogra.
They always turn to each other for help. And they would make each other feel so much better.
Both of them had troubled lives. But they always had each other.
ONE NiGHT
They were talking online.
Girl : I think I should tell you something.
Boy : yes....?
Girl : I love you.
Boy : I love you too!
Girl : no.. not...not the way I love you
Boy : ..........
The boy went offline and the girl cried and thought she had spoiled everything..
But later that night, the boy rang her mobile & she answered.
Girl : hello..?
Boy : hey...it's me.
Girl : hey listen I'm really sorry.
Boy : no! Don't be sorry. I love you too.
Girl : really ? But we won't be able to see each other . My parents would never let me go at this time. I have all my exams.
Boy : I know...me too. And my parents' journey to Dhaka
---THEY BOTH SiGHED--
Girl : we.....we could wait . A few years and we could be together.
Boy : I can wait. I've got to go now .I love you.
Girl : I love you too.
---THEY BOTH HANG UP---
For the next few years they had stayed together. And their love grew.
One day speaking online.
Girl :I've finished all my exam..And I have enough money.
Boy : Oh My God. Are you being serious!?
Girl : YES ! When are we meeting?
They both planned the journey & a few days later.
The boy went to the bus stop....
The girls bus was due to start journey.
AND BREAKiNG NEWS CAME ON THE BUS STOP TV
"The bus from Dhaka to Bogra had accident and all the people riding there died."
*The boy broke into tears*
The boy went home & got a knife.
That night the boy was found dead in his bedroom.
When his parents found him.They also found a picture of girl in his hand.
AND A SMALL NOTE :
"OUR LOVE WAS TOO LATE "
The girl's parents where clearing out her room.They found her diary :
Inside it they found a picture of the boy and note underneath it...
"i WiLL SEE HiM EVEN iF iT KiLLS ME "
BOTH OF THEM DiD SEE EACH OTHER iN THE END.
They both met online.
After time they had grown to Become best friends.
The girl lived in Dhaka and The boy lived in Bogra.
They always turn to each other for help. And they would make each other feel so much better.
Both of them had troubled lives. But they always had each other.
ONE NiGHT
They were talking online.
Girl : I think I should tell you something.
Boy : yes....?
Girl : I love you.
Boy : I love you too!
Girl : no.. not...not the way I love you
Boy : ..........
The boy went offline and the girl cried and thought she had spoiled everything..
But later that night, the boy rang her mobile & she answered.
Girl : hello..?
Boy : hey...it's me.
Girl : hey listen I'm really sorry.
Boy : no! Don't be sorry. I love you too.
Girl : really ? But we won't be able to see each other . My parents would never let me go at this time. I have all my exams.
Boy : I know...me too. And my parents' journey to Dhaka
---THEY BOTH SiGHED--
Girl : we.....we could wait . A few years and we could be together.
Boy : I can wait. I've got to go now .I love you.
Girl : I love you too.
---THEY BOTH HANG UP---
For the next few years they had stayed together. And their love grew.
One day speaking online.
Girl :I've finished all my exam..And I have enough money.
Boy : Oh My God. Are you being serious!?
Girl : YES ! When are we meeting?
They both planned the journey & a few days later.
The boy went to the bus stop....
The girls bus was due to start journey.
AND BREAKiNG NEWS CAME ON THE BUS STOP TV
"The bus from Dhaka to Bogra had accident and all the people riding there died."
*The boy broke into tears*
The boy went home & got a knife.
That night the boy was found dead in his bedroom.
When his parents found him.They also found a picture of girl in his hand.
AND A SMALL NOTE :
"OUR LOVE WAS TOO LATE "
The girl's parents where clearing out her room.They found her diary :
Inside it they found a picture of the boy and note underneath it...
"i WiLL SEE HiM EVEN iF iT KiLLS ME "
BOTH OF THEM DiD SEE EACH OTHER iN THE END.
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