It's the wrong kind of time to be thinking of you - The story.

Hello people! I come among you today to share a short summer tale I started writing today. I have always enjoyed writing short stories during Summer and unfortunately last year I was too busy trying to get into uni that I didn't do it. So since I have the time this year I will definitely try to overcompensate last year faulty ;)  Below it is an unrevised draft of what I've written so far, which is not much. I'll keep you guys updated with my work here. Nice week y'all

Love always, 

Tommy

It was something as random as a short bus journey that brought them together. It wasn't love at first sight. Instead a single moment in which she realised that guy who nothing she saw once might be the guy who she always dreamt about.

I’m sorry if somehow I misled you and passed the wrong impression but this is not a love story. No such thing as a happy ending will come out of this. This a tale of two lonesome and despite young, very old souls who accidentally have met each other and now had to face chaos in order to survive. My only job here is to report the events that preceded it.

September 10th, 2009.

If once there was golden days, 2009 was the year where it all started. Everything was finally coming together. 
Her name was Ivy Anne Twaine. She did not much like it and never really understood it. She liked to think of herself as an ordinary child of the nineties but God knew she was different. The second daughter of a once happy and now divorced couple; a random and lousy member of a very large and controversial family; sort of an introvert, although I don’t quite know how she might qualify in and a cheerful supporter of day dreamers.

If I were to describe her that is what I would say. I don’t think you need to know more and very honestly I don't think she would like it.

Ivy lived several lives in several places. Hung on one or two buddies to get her through each of them - being myself one of them. The year she met him was the very first year she felt she belonged.

She was about to be sixteen - oh that marvellous age. The freedom of being able to ride your own vehicle and disappear to Neverland...Ivy couldn't wait for it and that year she felt such would be possible. Her family and she had just moved to a brand new house at a very charming neighborhood. They were all very happy. After all they’ve been through as a family, to finally possess a beautiful house with a flourished garden and a fancy car they could call their own was a victory.  

It was a new place but the same old rules applied and Ivy mastered them as only a psychopath would. Her brain was configured to operate standardly well to go through all social situations: present herself the best she could without revealing much to the curious fellas who came around the investigate the new bee; don't mind those occasional obnoxious looks and wondering faces toward her person that were exclusively owed to the dark point in the white matter that she was now seen as; and both smile and intimidate, you should never be too nice, she repeated compulsively, people will take advantage of you. 

He, on the other hand, was remarkable. Named David Usborne Jr. after his grandfather - a celebrity of the 60s. A bright and handsome young man who was way too good for her, as she'd say. He had the perfect life and the best friends in the world, or so he thought, before meeting her. He felt nothing missing until nothing became the whole that turned his entire life upside down. 

All of this happened, more or less, like this.

"Façam o Favor de Ser Felizes" - Raul Solnado