I do not own Jughead Jones or Elizabeth Cooper. I just would rip out my heart for them.
Prologue
I really thought there was a life after him.
A life where I could fully smile without feeling the tears breaking in. The guilty breaking in.
The feeling never leaves. And by now, I truly believe it will never leave. He will never leave.
It's not like the memories keep me awake at night, no. The memories could care less about hunting me unconscious. The memories crossed my mind randomly day lightly. Every time I neglected myself, they were there all over again. He was there. He was always there.
If I would've known it'd be like this—no, I still would've left.
When the thoughts weren't there, the nightmares sure were. They were all different, but they all ended up the same. The sadness in his eyes will never disappear. And the cheesy line will never be erased. Goodbye Forsythe Pendleton Jones. I wish you'd never have met me. I know I wish I hadn't.
The lump in the throat was inevitable. I had my eyes closed, my mind away and my heart chopping.
'Mommy, mommy'
As soon as I turned my lamp on I was able to see her peeking the door. She was stroking her eyes with her blanket, her blonde long hair was messy but her angelic face seemed worried.
'What's going on, chérie?' I removed the blankets over me slowly and palmed the empty side of the bed letting her know I wanted her next to me.
She didn't think it twice. She did her best to get on the bed by herself, and she did it; how could she not, she was fearless. I couldn't help to give her a grin.
'I had a bad dream, mommy' She laid on the pillow, putting her hands under her ear, so she could looked at my face better. I imitated her. 'I was lost, mommy. I didn't have you by my side. It was all dark mommy, I am afraid of the dark'
'Me too, chérie. I've been afraid of it since I was your age' I stroke her hair smiling at her, trying to calm her down.
'Really, mommy? So that means we are the same?' Her eyes were giving up to sleep.
'We are chérie, we are' I said tucking her hair in her ear, and she smile a little, already traveling to dream land.
But I knew I was lying. Even when she had golden straight hair, when she had hypnotizing eyes. I knew I never saw me on them. I knew the true: she wasn't my copy. She was his. And at the end of the night I was certainly relieved of having my very own version of Jughead Jones to sleep next to.
HIIIII. I'm very excited about this story. I've never written anything river-related before. I hope you enjoy this little prologue. This is going to be a long and slow burn ride, the kind of stories that should be epic. Kinda dark, kinda soft. Don't hesitate on leaving a comment if you have any doubts or not, or just want to say hi. Whatever it is, it will be very much appreciated. By the way, you may call me Lemon, everybody does.
