e·the·re·al
/əˈTHirēəl/
adjective
1.
extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.
"her ethereal beauty"
synonyms: delicate, exquisite, dainty, elegant, graceful; More
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Hello.
I'm here to give you advice.
You can call me whatever you want, but I prefer the name Ethereal.
Some might call me a guide of sorts.
I plan to tell you the do's and don't's of life as we know it.
But along the way, I plan to tell you a story.
More specifically, my story.
Hopefully you will learn from it.
I know I did.
However let us begin, try to think of this as a journey.
But don't let yourself be deceived.
Not all endings, are as they seem to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember the day clearly, as if it only happened a few moments ago.
I was sitting casually on the front steps outside of a run down apartment that some might call my home, smoking a cigarette and contemplating life.
I was only seventeen at the time, and thought that the nicotine filled smoke would evaporate my problems with it as it's rings disappeared into the air.
I was wrong.
Now don't mistake me for a simple minded delinquent, I knew I was too young to legally smoke.
that's why I only did it on occasion.
That day was an occasion.
It was my birthday.
Not like anybody cared enough to acknowledge it.
My mother was too focused on the methamphetamine running through her veins.
My father was too focused on the woman who he left my mom and I for all those years ago.
My "best friend" was probably off screwing her boyfriend, the guy I had a crush on for years.
My sister left our New York lifestyle when she graduated. she said she needed someplace sunnier and less dreary.
The only happy birthday I got was from Mr. Richards, the man who runs the front desk of our apartment complex.
It didn't matter to me, I tipped my hat to caring long ago.
I just remember sitting there, praying for a change in the weather.
I remember shivering slightly in my faded t-shirt with no coat, warming my numb fingers on that cigarette.
I remember him sitting next to me.
"You really shouldn't smoke." Were the first words he ever said to me.
"You really should mind your own business." I responded staring at the piece of gum stuck on the ground in front of me.
"Feisty I see," he laughed "my name's Blake by the way."
He extended his hand towards me and I finally broke my downward gaze to see who I was really dealing with.
I was met with the most electrifying blue eyes is ever seen in my life.
Hair a brown color, that reminded me of sand on the beach.
Lips that looked simply lovely.
But I would not find out until later that his soul was as black as obsidian.
And he was filled to the brim with lies.
However, i was young, and had a lack of real intellect.
So I thought his nice guy act was real.
He had a "boy next door" kind of vibe, you don't see that much around these parts. But his personality also had a sense of danger about it, however that itching curiosity I saw born with couldn't seem to do what my conscious was telling me to do.
It was telling me to run, this boy was trouble.
I was never one to follow the rules.
So I reached out, took his hand in mine (the one that the cigarette was not occupying of course) and said, "nice to meet you, I'm Ethereal."
Not turning around and running away was my first of many mistakes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Song on the side: Feathery by Milky Chance
Okay so vote and comment if you want.
I know that was really bland, but I have no plot and mind so we'll just see where this story takes us :)
