The Divorcée

MysticalLove' Prologue - Years Gone By

 

WRITEN BY MYSTICALLOVE ÿ CO-WRITEN BY DINA14

The Divorcée

SUMMARY

We were young and naive. We were foolish and crazy. We were hopeless and in love. We were…

A/N: I think I am the new Stephanie Meyer! Well, not in the paranormal/supernatural type of way, just the I am starting to get my story ideas from dreams of mine. Like this one, it had all happened to me, the younger age part, when I had the HUGE crush on my mom’s bestfriend/ my babysitter’s son. And it just so happened I had this dream about us 20 years in the future!

Please note that all names have been changed… just in case this hottie I am talking about stumbles across this one day, I don’t wanna be completely humiliated!

You will soon find out that I have some weird, weird obsession with pregnancy and arranged marriage stories… which is why I have decided to combine the two! : ) Mahwah (< supposed to be an evil laugh!)

Anyways….

PROLOGUE

:. 19 YEARS AGO .:

“Ryann,” I hissed through gritted teethe at the boy my age. “Give it back.” He was nearly a head taller than me, waving my favourite pink haired Barbie over my head.

It was unfair and not worth telling our parents about. He would only get his way… once again!

“No,” he laughed, only to push the plastic doll further in the air; further from my reach. “Not gonna happen, Alex!”

“Stop calling me that,” I snapped, groaning loudly. Ohh, if looks could kill.

“Oh, come on you know you like it,” he flashed a smirk my way, his hand reaching up to place my red, thick hair behind my ear. “Marry me, Alexa,” he said - whispering- it as if is were a statement rather than a question.

I scrunched up my nose and squinted my eyes. “What?” I hissed, once again. “Ryann we are nearly five years old. Dontcha thank we are a little young?” I questioned.

“No,” he crossed his arms and stormed off. “I take it, it’s a no then?”

“You’re right!”

:. 9 YEARS AGO .:

“Would you hurry the frig up?” Ryann hollered banging on the door.

This only made me cry harder. Hearing his voice, it scared me for what the future held. Letting reality strike even worse.

“Alexa?” he said softly. “Come on, just come out, you are beautiful in anything. Look, I am coming in, ‘kay?”

I couldn’t respond, I just could not only for emotional reasons because I was bawling my eyes out, but physically. I just couldn’t bare to move.

“What’s the matter, Alexa?” Ryann asked, heartfelt filled. Soon he was sitting beside me on the bed I was curled up in a ball, as he began rubbing small, soothing circles on my back. “Alex?”

He was the only one who could ever get away telling me that. In the last fifteen years of my life, not even my own mother could call me by the boys name.

“We, um, have a bit of, uh, ah, um… a…. problem,” I whimpered, stuttering.

Clutching the sheets underneath of me with all my might Ryann responded immediately, in a rushed tone with: “Does it have anything to do with the white stick on your dresser?”