Story cover for Chasing Memories by UknowImAdr3amer
Chasing Memories
  • WpView
    Reads 126
  • WpVote
    Votes 5
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 14m
  • WpView
    Reads 126
  • WpVote
    Votes 5
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 14m
Ongoing, First published Aug 15, 2016
Jordan's POV

I remember her hair; the dark brown that turned even darker when it was soaked with her blood. 

I remember her eyes open wide and lifeless; they were the brightest green iris I'd ever seen, similar to the color of pistachios or even the color of the stuff that grows in small puddles in the heat of the summer... Algae. 

I remember the tears; coming from his eyes. He kept apologizing to her under his breath but I couldn't seem to figure out why. This wasn't his fault, at least it didn't seem like it was his fault. 

Remembering all these things made me wish for once that I was older, that I was able to help hands on instead of just assist with equipment. 

I had been studying to be an EMT since I was 16. Now I'm 17; 9 months away from having been able to help her.
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I hate that I love you

9 parts Ongoing

"What do you want?" I snap, slamming my locker shut. His casual smirk, messy dark hair, tan skin, strong arms, eerie storm-grey eyes... the list could go on of things I notice- that I shouldn't notice- about him. "Oh, I want a lot of things." He inspects a speck of dirt on his arm. "I'm sure you've heard the news?" His eyes flicker back up to meet mine. Does he know? No. He can't. So I roll my eyes. He can't know that I know, that I would do anything to be the first one he tells. "You'll have to be more specific." I mutter, trying to look casual as I inspect my nails. "Well, it involves a certain title of the swim team," He offers. I shrug. "So you got captain. That's cool. And what do I have to do with that?" He narrows his eyes, trying to read my expression. Unfortunately for him, I have mastered the art of hiding my emotions. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about. During English," He fiddles with his sweater sleeve. "I recall you trying to talk to me," I frown. "Well, I..." He swallows, seeming... nervous? "I'm not doing too great... subject wise. And if I don't pick up my ass soon, I might be forced to quit." He rubbed the back of his neck, making his shirtsleeve slide up his arm to reveal a strong bicep. Not that I notice. I narrow my eyes. "And what do I get back in return?" I cross my arms. I'm going to be late for the bus if we don't hurry. He studies my face. "Name your price." He mirrored my position. I sigh. Money... but I don't need it. Popularity... but I don't want it. I meet his gaze steadily. He lifts his chin, the tiniest bit, but it doesn't intimidate me. I square my shoulders and stand up straight. He's only just taller than me. "Stop pretending to be perfect." All rights reserved. Cover art by me :) but will probably be redone soon