Behold, the new chapter!! Tananana (dramatic music).
Okay so this chapter was the easyest one EVER! I wrote three pages in one shot (on the manuscript). Anyways, I want to thank everyone who takes time to read and comment on my story, Thank you verryyyy much it's very appreciated.
So I hope you enjoy the chapter, read, comment and vote if yu like it. And spread the words too, The day we met again is a socially acceptable story that one might take time to read and that does not harm anyone or anything mentally or physically. Anyways, feedbacks are much appreaciated!
-Melancholia
PS. Here I am in 2017 correcting what had been written back in highschool, I do still hope one would give this story a chance. Thank you!
I open my eyes and quickly sit up. I got used to rubbing sleep off once my eyes opened. I bend down to grab my army boots but quickly sit back up. What was that? I'm back home dammit! THIS bunk bed is not the one from the dormitory. This one is softer and this is home for now. I furiously shake my head and look at the mini calendar on my study table.
Monday morning, Danny has a photo shoot to attend to at 12 o'clock so she definitely won't wake up until 10. Shae worked on an editorial for the magazine she works for late at night with Danny who was arranging an album. Since she didn't say anything about waking her up or not, I'll let her sleep. I just don't get why Shae is working, wasn't she supposed to be on vacation? I hear movement from above my head and raise my eyes. An arm pops out of the bed on top of mine. I get on my feet, jump and push her arm back in before turning to the digital clock. 5:00, great, I have all the time in the world.
I walk down the vast room bare feet and turn on the short left corridor. I reach the door at the far end and go inside silently. Brushing my teeth, I take in the reflection before me. My cheeks are not as mushy as they used to be and, somehow, my eyes seem bigger and the dark green rim around the hazel of my eyes is more evident. If I look closely, there is a really pale scar on my face that runs down my right jawline.
When I went into a mission once, I was outside looking for eventual survivor after a mass bombing in the area. The chances were pretty slim but I was a diligent worker and has reported seven of them already. For some reason that escaped me, the anarchists were still throwing missiles in the zone. I spotted another broomer crawling behind an abandoned tank leaving a bloody trail behind him and I noticed he was injured. Shot in the left ankle. He was trying to save himself from a red painted tank with two crazy men on it. They were shooting in the wild. I sped up my pace towards my fellow worker when I saw the mental cases positioning the their tank towards the shelter where the broomer was.
A rush of adrenaline went through my body as I grabbed him and pulled him away as far as possible. I started running with the man who was hopping behind trying to keep up my pace despite his handicap and reported the events. We were far enough when the crazy men bombed the shelter but one of the metal piece of the vehicle flew on my face.
I did not want to remember that. Once the rinsing done, I walk straight in the kitchen's direction. I glance on the right on my way and see the neon blue showing 5:08. Arriving in the kitchen, I open the drawer in which my apron and the measuring cups are. I slide on the black apron and start skittering around the kitchen to get the ingredients. I set them all on the table before taking two bowls. I put loads of flour, a spoonful of baking soda, unsweetened cocoa powder, sugar and powdered sugar in a bowl. I walk over to the counter on the left, climb on it and open the top shelf to see if there is any milk powder. Of course there isn't. I climb down taking a whisk on my descent and mix the dry mixture. In the second bowl, I put milk, margarine, whick I melt in the oven, eggs and a little condensed milk and mix everything. Then I pour the liquid mixture in the dry one while whisking it. I take the bowl and start furiously mixing everything.
YOU ARE READING
The day we met again
Romance"I never thought we'd meet again, at least not this way.After all those years of regret, that vivid memory had begun to fade away. Yet he had to come back and reopen an old wound. The guy I liked since 4th grade." Isha is back from war, back to "no...