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Someone To Remember

Someone To Remember

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Mar 7, 2016
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Fiction
Social Themes
A.J wasn't like all the other girls out there. She was one of a kind. Though only i ever saw she was a good kind of different. She was -is still- beautiful. She had these peircing brown eyes and skin to match. Brilliant, i had called her about everyday. A.J was an artist. Not the type that drew and sculpt with paint and clay. No, not her she created pictures with words dancing across pages, twirling above our heads. She made lifeless words come to life, if only words could keep us alive. She was kind and modest and at some point in her life that changed but she, never did. If they're was a phraze to define her life no one did it better than her. A hero who became a villain because it was written that way. "Life isn't about making the most freinds or the most money. It's not about random flings gold and bling. Life is about building bonds and creating mistakes to learn from. It's about finding someone worth fighting for. My life is about being someone to remember."
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~Her words were my poison. I used them to consume myself. Disturbingly honest. Painfully strained. Carefully penned down. Dangerously addictive.~ A journal that landed in the right hands and told a whole story with words, no lips could speak. Two people bound by the pages of a book that tore their souls apart. He found it lying around and wondered what could go wrong. He didn't recognise the handwriting but he knew he instantly fell in love with it. Then it began. The assault of words on his life. He couldn't believe a word she wrote but somehow he did. He knew more about her than anyone else but he knew so little about who she was... It was maddening. How someone could have such an impact on you without having a single conversation with you. Her precious words tortured his existence, they drowned him in misery, created a black hole of words around him, gave him everything he needed to live. Made him fall in love. Gave him a world of his own. Made him believe in rainbows, unicorns, coffee, the basis of happiness, the meaning of every sunrise, the mystery of every deep ocean, she made him human. He knew he had to find her. He had to find out who she was. He had given him all the clues he needed but none of them were enough to prepare him for who she was. But sometimes... The journey is more important than the destination. Sometimes, the journey is the destination. A book full of stolen pages and a boy full of curiosity. This was how he let her shape his story. __________________ Description inside. Italics = Journal entry. 500 word chapters. Okay, so I don't know if you want to read it yet but it would mean the world to me if you could give it a shot.

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