Who We Were | ✓

chapter one

each chapter will have at least one special memory or flashback! those are italicized !!

song: i loved you - sarah fisher

. . .

Everly Clark

     I PLACED my paintbrush down, sighing softly at my work. I was twenty-six years old, living alone is a small little cottage in the woods, single, and my job was a complete flop.

I was a painter, or well attempting to be one. Ever since my first day in art class, I had decided that I would be an artist. I used to draw the most positive paintings, the key word being here is used to. Now all my paintings looked depressing, which is most probably why no one bought them.

I tilted my head to the side, a few strands of my hair falling from my bun onto the side of my face. I crossed my arms over my chest, examining the painting in front of me. The girl in the painting looked so sad.

I sighed again, this time frowning at my work. Who would want a painting of a sad girl hanging on their wall?

Another flop.

I walked out of the art room, and into my backyard. I let out a deep breath, a hint of a smile playing on my lips as I remembered some memories from my old house. The air was nice and warm, as I sat down comfortably in my lawn chair. I watched as kids were splashing and giggling in a small lake not to far away from me. I watched with envy as a family was happily laughing without a care in the world.

The warm wind brushed off the strands of hair on my face, making them float behind my ear. I looked at the small watch on my wrist and quickly stood up. I had decided that every day at around six thirty pm, I would go to the town square and display all my paintings in one small spot.

Usually, no one bought anything. Sometimes people would toss me a penny or two because they felt pitiful for me. Who wouldn't?

I wasn't pretty. Or not anymore, because it sure didn't feel like it. My eyes were always emotionless and dark. I never smiled at anyone and I could care less about my hair and clothing.

Packing up my paintings, I walked out the door and began walking down the street. It was about a ten to fifteen walk, but I didn't mind at all. I walked silently the whole time, my thoughts filling up my head. It was such a beautiful day, the flowers were dancing along to the melody of the wind. Such graceful movements.

I still missed him. God, I missed him every day, I thought about him every day. I thought about his boyish grins and small kisses he would steal from me whenever he had the chance.

"Ricky! I'm trying to study here!" I squealed, as he showered me with kisses. I laughed as he never once stopped showering me with those cute little kisses.

"Whatever, study later," he mumbled into my hair, wrapping both of his hands around me. I laughed once again and placed my things on the side.