Woohoo!!! Chapter 1 of REMEMBERING SUNDAY. (: I guess I'm liking where this is going so far. I'm not making any promises, though. I might update soon? I dunno. BUT as far as I know - this is going to be a short story.

Main Characters: Joe Grey/Lilly Truscott

Jilly timee!!

The italic is the memories that Joe is having - for those of you who may get confused. Regular is present time and italic is the memories.

;]

read. love. review.

-Ness

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He woke up with the sun beaming in his face coming in from the closed curtains. It must have been bright out.

'Not again.' He thought.

It was obviously already late in the day.

As he groggily stood up from the bed and went over to the almost vacant closet in the bedroom to put his newest pair of One Star shoes on, he couldn't help but be reminded of the empty space in the bed when he would awake. No one had been there since Sunday.

Blood on the carpet made him remember, of course.

And this brought him to the idea of the dream that he just awoke from. Nothing could ever take away the vividness of that night – and the memory just kept flooding back when he was asleep.

Sixty percent hung over, he finally got the courage to step out of his room. In truth – he hadn't been sober for days.

Walking down the halls of the extravagant cottage - that hadn't really had much use in the past – the dark brown haired, 19 year old boy walked through the living room and reached his hand over toward the glass screen door. It was later into the summer, probably mid August, so it was breezy and hot.

As the glass slide open, and he stepped out onto the highest patio on the structure, he slowly made his way to the railing. The lake in front of him shimmered in the sunlight and could make anyone easily loose their eye sight for a few seconds until their eyes adapted to the bright light. The boy's fist was in a clutch while he leaned on the rail. Taking in his surroundings; the wind picked up.

Leaning now, into the breeze, he remembered that night.

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Stepping off of the porch of the newly bought cottage right on the lake – she was standing right there in the driveway.

"JOE!" The young girl screeched in a very amused voice while a smile plastered her face.

He smiled right back at her. Finally she came back from collage.

They embraced in a tight hug and paced over into the house.

A few nights later – after the girl had settled in – the two walked right out the back door.

Coming out onto the patio on top of the cottage, then down the two flights of stairs that led down to the overly steep hill.

Racing each other down – the couple had made it to the dock. Grabbing the life jackets that had been laying there ready to be put on; is when and where it all started.

As Joe put his on, Lilly whined for him to put hers on, too.

That only made Joe do one thing. And it didn't include getting her dressed.

More like the opposite.

Climbing back up the stairs and into the house –

They started something in his room.

Then they finished what they had started.

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Now, somewhere in there – something had gone wrong. It was quite hard to describe, so Joe wouldn't bother doing that much. Up until this point in the memory – there wasn't one thing wrong yet. Nothing he himself could think of. The only thing, really, that caused him any pain was the recall of the girl leaving.

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Marching away from the bed the next night, Lilly quickly got dressed in the bathroom across the hall.

The two had slept all day, apparently.

The sudden movement of her getting out woke Joseph up with a hurried stir. His hair in tangled clumps and not quite remembering what had went on the day before; he gasped but didn't think much of what they'd done. Apparently he didn't remember the fighting and marks of madness.

Lilly turned the handle to the door of the bathroom and then stepped out without a word. Joe smiled pleasantly at her and she quickly returned a faint smile – that really wasn't one, but all she could manage – and then dropped it immensely quick. Confused, the boy got up out of bed.

As he covered himself with clothing again and then made his way out of the room and into the hall – he noticed something. He was actually on his way to the kitchen, and to get there; anyone would have to pass by the front door. There, lying next to the plant decorations incredibly close to the door frame – there was a packed suitcase. It looked oddly familiar to him, but he honestly couldn't think of where he had seen it before. The case looked stuffed full of anything a month's – or more – stay would look like. Joe knew it couldn't be Lilly's.

Maybe he forgot to unpack again.

Lilly was already in the kitchen fixing breakfast. Two eggs had been sizzling in the fryer. Joe took his place at the counter and waited. When the girl never brought anything to him, he wondered.

Obviously, she could tell what he wanted.

"You have hands. Make it yourself. Two eggs don't last." She scoffed at him and leaned on the same counter, just across from him.

Joe looked at her – not knowing what to do exactly.

He noticed some marks on her left forearm and couldn't think of where they had occurred.

"What happened to you?" Joe said, referring to her arm.

"Oh, mhm. Like you don't know." She snapped back.

Joe reached his hand and swept his fingers across the dry blood marks.

Looking down, Lilly sighed and resentfully moved her arm away.

She loved his touch – and she loved him – but she wasn't living like this. She'd done something so terrible to him. She couldn't have him live her life, too. With the drunkenness and so much more pain.

Finished, Lilly put her dishes in the sink and left the room. Joe, curiously followed her.

Slipping into her purple high heels, she grabbed the suitcase.

"Wait-" Joe called.

Lilly looked at him, tilting her head in a fed up manner.

"What are you doing with that?"

"I'm leaving."

And there she went - Joe wide-eyed - out the door.

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This may not seem dramatic to the average reader - but there's more. It's too painful. Like the knife in her arm. He couldn't explain it.

Remembering Sunday, Joe Grey fought back tears of the now missing Lilly Truscott.

Then fell to his knees.