Ch•1- If only You would Listen

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A/N : The lovely cover for this story was made by @Bluedolphin2212 , all the credit goes to their creative and talented editing skills. Go check out their page for more. :)

***
      It had taken me quite some time to become acquainted with the fact that my life felt, at times, unreal. There were moments where time would real its ugly head and I was left in a state of feeling out of my own body and floating amongst a cosmos that did not seem to acknowledge my existence. On the other hand, time has proven to be healing with the acceptance of death finally having been processed in my naive mind. That doesn't make death or loss either, but the mere acceptance of it allows me to move forward with knowledge of the lost.

      My apologies, I realize that this is certainly an odd place to begin a book, isn't it? It's only page one and we automatically jump into the concept of time and the unexplainable implications of loss and progression from it.

Something as complex as time can hardly be discussed and understood. Where could I possibly be going with all of this? Well, when you think about it- actually, never-mind, I'm getting off track here.

Let me start over.

     Time is very interesting, it can do so many extraordinary things. Here are some examples. It can fly by so fast, that if you blink you could miss everything. It can trudge on at such a slow pace that you feel as if nothing will ever change. It can sometimes even go in reverse, where you relive your own life for a moment, old memories long forgotten resurface.

     Sometimes... sometimes it can seem to stop completely. When all the sudden the clock's hand isn't ticking and life pauses. That's what it felt like when the walls were exploding around me. Fire sprouted from the windows and burned the flesh on my body. The floor beneath my feet rose and then finally fell with the explosion. Debris spread across my vision. Dad and Pepper disappeared from view.

      My hands were extended in front of me as if I was attempting to grab hold of something, but there was nothing there. The fading light of the evening sun was the only thing I could see, and it was so beautiful. I remember opening my eyes for a split second and looking past the helicopters, noticing the fading sun and it's radiancy in the midst of this chaos.

     There was one of the most gorgeous sunsets I'd ever seen. Sadly, it would be the last thing I ever see. That chilly, winter day had been nothing short of ordinary, or at least ordinary by Stark standards, and here is how it ends.

Hold on.

     You guys probably have NOO idea what I'm talking about, do you? Clearly, I'm not the best at starting off stories. Let's try this again, for the third time in a row.

Let me start from the beginning.

     A/N: Book 2, Let's get it.

                                   ***

      He was falling, falling faster than the crack of lightening. His body had just emerged from the closing blue portal and was plummeting down to earth. Down, down, down until he came smashing upon the cold, hard New York City pavement.

     I seemed to fly through the air until I was standing below the tower. His body was covered with the damaged red and gold armor. He was unmoving. Awful dread filled my gut as I got closer. My hand moved down to his helmet and I pulled it off.

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