GONE - 13
Dear Issac,
This is my thirteenth entry to you. To some, thirteen is seen as an unlucky number since it's associated with superstitions and all those sorts of things. I don't believe in bad superstitions.
To me, it was pretty damn lucky. It was the day you asked me out.
Sunday 13th April 2014
"Issac, give me back my chocolate!"
You just laughed evilly in my face as you brought it closer to your mouth. Your bright blue eyes were glistening with mischief which only irritated me further.
"Don't you dare or I'll-"
"You'll what?" You had your signature cheeky grin plastered on your face as you raised your eyebrows at me, questioning what I could do.
"I'll wrestle you and beat the crap out of you." Your grin only got bigger at my bluff and you ate it. That was when I lost it and lunged at you getting up from the couch. You easily blocked my hands and picked me up, hanging me on your shoulders.
"Isaac Isabella Monroe, put me down this instant!"
Isabella. Your middle name never failed to make me laugh. Never did, never does and never will.
Except now, tears of sadness fall along with it.
You put me down but we were outside. Slowly, you turned me around and what I saw will always be plastered in my mind.
It still is.
On my porch were fairy lights spelling, 'Em, will you go out with me?'
The happiest day of my life.
I hugged the life out of you and then boldly kissed you.
I wish I could still kiss you.
* * *
Author's Note: Leave me your thoughts in the comments please.
YOU ARE READING
Gone | Edited
Short StoryThe first in the Gone trilogy. ❝People change. Memories don't. ❞ I had that one person. That one person who would be my brightness in the dullest of days (trust me, there were a lot) just by gracing me with his presence. The frown that was permanent...
