Let This be the Last Time

A breath A miracle A farewell And the time has stopped To start again

Sophia and Mason are your average young couple. But, she is a victim of a crime. And a last fight is all it takes for her to confess all she saw that night to the police. She is offered a change of identity, and protection because the man they're searching for is known to be dangerous. She takes the offer and everything is set for her new life after the last court. A life without Mason, thousands of miles away. She goes on for a couple of years. Then, another boy is chasing her for faked love. But, who is this boy really? He has unknown past. And what will happen if Mason suddenly appears in her life again and tells her he's been searching for her all his life? This is a story of love being punctured by bloody knifes from dirty crimes.

0Likes
0Comments
718Views

3. 3

3

All the memories and the scenes. I kept them in me and believed it would be a tragedy to just loose one little tiny detail of the picture my brain took. They were so valuable. Even if I had them and him. How much I wished to be able to draw like my sister. It didn't matter if I could draw like an "artist," just to sketch them would be enough. All I wanted was to never forget them. Somehow, I didn't trust mt brain. Yes, that's very funny. I always felt like everything could slip away any second. I especially loved the tiny details of the happy memories. The sun, our smiles, my red brownish hair flying around like a moon jellyfish, the nature, our red lips, him, and me. Our paleness and dark messy hair and long eyebrows.    

I can't say we were a normal couple. We were crazy and wild. And what's so fun about being normal? It's like being dead and having no life. Which we both sure did. We did all the stuff that stupid in love couples would. We walked by railroads and when the trains came we stood in the middle of both. Perhaps you know that the loudest sound you can find is two trains passing by each other. We both yelled something. It would be stupid just to stand there and smile like an idiot right? We both ended up yelling "I love you!" It wasn't planned. And we only knew through the movement of our lips what we said. When the train was gone and peace had arrived within greenness; he held me and gave me the world. Our kiss was peace itself. Then, suddenly the colors of the sky turned down to a lovely moonlight, our skylight.

Our daily life was maybe a little beyond simple. I went to college in the mornings four days a week in Iowa College. And he spent that time while I was gone writing and practicing his music or being in the studio. Those times were fun. Then after I turned twenty and he was twenty-two we got engaged. From two bedrooms we switched to one bedroom. I don't understand what changed so much? He didn't either. I mean we practically fell asleep in his or my bed almost every night, before we got engaged. He's arms were home.

Well, apart from all that we were quiet a chef. But, the problem was I liked to bake more than actually cook things. I made breakfast and lunch and he cooked dinner. In the weekends; Fridays and Saturdays, I made desserts. We both helped each other, though. When I needed to study more he took over me and when he had other stuff to do I made the best I could. We helped each other from who knows what to washing dishes together. He covered me in mustache-style with the dish soup. I screamed in laughter and spilled water at him. Guess what? This is the "Era of Good Feelings." Though sometimes the meaning felt like it was suppose to hurt me and crush me into pieces. Which were not glass. The meaning was past, made it to the history books, and it did not include any romance. It included politics. Just laughable in this case. In fact, we had no idea of who the heck is being elected as the next president until someone brought it up to one of those most boring conversations.      

I could swear we both smiled in our sleep. But, there's no reason to swear. There is no lies in this story. No lies. Just trust, belief, and faith. Just a reminder, story is not a history. 

Smiles, laughs, the memories, the scenes, the colors, the wind, the smell, and the rivers. The salty smelling rivers. How can I explain our happiness to you? Maybe nor I or the angel that holds my hand every second of our life can explain. You just have to try and understand yourself. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...