Taylor's POV:
My memory flipped threw the memories we had together, like a photo album. I curled up in our bed. I cringed at the thought in the back of my mind. It was fall again. Most people love fall, because the leaves, the weather, the pumpkins. Not me. It could be the worst season, correction it is. I remember the day, like it was a minute ago. It started when we woke up... "Good morning beautiful." I heard his voice whisper as I pretended to be asleep. "I know your awake..." His chuckle echoed the room. I opened my eyes to see his face for a second, then quickly shut them. I then felt his warm body press against mine, nose to nose, chest to chest, toe to toe. I opened my eyes and silently giggled. He inched his lips closer to mine and them placed them on there. We matched each other like a glove. "You know, you better get up it's almost 10 am. Your going to be late for work." Those words that I said, were the words I regret everyday. He should have just stayed here with me. Safe. "What if I don't go?" His voice remanded in my head. "You'll get fired! Don't worry Joe, I'll be here when you get back." Wrong Taylor, your wrong, his not coming back. "Promise?" Joe licked his lips. I nodded. Then my memory skipped to the phone call. 3:58pm. He gets out of work at 3:30pm. It would take him 20 minutes to get home. I remember. The phone rang throughout the house. I was debating whether or not to get up and answer it, and possibly miss my favorite tv show. Just as the last ring, I reached over to the phone and picked it up. The man's voice blew up my ears. I only remember smashing the phone and running to the car. I was speeding down the rode, not care what I would hit or what would happen. I arrived there, already too late. He was sent to the hospital already. Police crowded his car that was parked outside his work. I saw his keys on the cement and I already jumped in to my car, again. I prayed, and prayed, I needed him to be okay. I got to the hospital, but he was in surgery, immediately. I paced, for 5 hours. Waiting. Praying. Thinking. Wishing. Hoping. The doctor came out. "Mrs. Jonas?" The doctor had a fearful look on his face. I braced my self for the news, and didn't reply. "I'm very sorry to tell you this, but your husband was shot this afternoon, once in the chest, once in the head, and once in the leg. I'm terribly sorry, but Joseph Jonas, has pasted away." The last few sentence that he said to me faded away. My whole world went crashing that day. Joe was shot on the head, nose to nose, the chest, chest to chest, and the leg, toe to toe.
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poor Taylor! :'( This was extremely sad for me to write but, I wanted to change it up a little. So, did anyone cry?