The Little Pink Box.[Short Story](Wattpadprize14)

Chapter 1: Revisiting Memories.

hey there! :) XD

This is my second story so i hope you like it !

This is the first time I'm doing a guys POV so don't blame if my guy charater sounds a little girly. its my first time and pls vote and comment what you think of the first chapter, any suggetions are appriciated. :)

Hugs

Red

Enjoy :)

(NOT EDITED)

Chapter 1: Revisiting Memories.

                  I walked up to the silver gate. It was too cold outside for my liking. I tugged my leather jacket closer to me. I opened the gate with a little force; it was jammed due to cold and rust.

It made a peculiar sound as I walked inside but I let the gate go which caused it to make the weird kind of sound it used to make. It had been perfectly three weeks from now that I was visiting this place.

Again

I had blocked all the memories that had been linked with this place, ‘Our place’.

As we use to call it.

 I had not visited it after ‘that night’.

I still remember that February night, it’s as clear in my head as anything else that had happened. All those memories have been unleashed to cause the greatest of pain in my heart.

 The similar kind of aching that caused in my chest when I slipped my guard to let ‘those memories’ haunt me, I took in a deep breath as I started walking towards the familiar rosewood colored door.

I stopped a lot of times in my way, but I had made up my mind and I was going to stick to it.

 I had to do it. It was in some way my duty. I had to at least tell them before I left, left for Colorado.  I had to gain a lot of courage to come over to this decision. I had spent 5 days just to arrive over the decision that ‘I will move on’.

It was the promise I had given Summer.

My Summer.

That I would move on. But how could I move on?

 When she was all I thought about

My days and my nights were just filled with her thoughts, her warm smile, and her breath taking laugh. I was moving into a never ending sea of depression after she had left me.

No, we did not break-up. Nor did she leave me for someone better.

She passed away, leaving me over here to die for each day of my life that I lived.

I missed her that was a bitter mockery.

I pined for her, I was craving to hear her voice again, to feel her, to touch her. It felt so vibrant, so alive to have her beside me. I missed our small fights which I now treasure and the times when I had to do a lot of work to make her talk to me again.

I kept walking till I reached the door. The color of the door had faded down; I guess nobody had bothered to color it. There was an arm chair in the small porch.

I think it belonged to Summers’ Dad. He had always been kind to me. He would let me come and spend time in Summers’ room whenever I wanted.

I knocked softly on the wooden door. I could hear slow footsteps approaching towards me.