Prologue

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It was cold out, being the starting of the fall, the leaves were turning colours and falling off the trees, leaving them looking alot more wood like than they had in the seasons before.

Isabelle walked outside of her house, stopping to admire her mothers garden that was along the side of the house, filled with various types of roses.

Her blue jogging shoes were on her feet, meeting the hem of her jogging pants, her sweater bundled up at her neck.

She began jogging slow, at first, then she sped up going up a deserted road, taking in the scenery. She was paying to much attention to the trees and the un-owned plots of land that wasn't in use yet.

Then it happened. She felt her body hit another.

And that's where it began.

Him (Ansel Elgort)Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora