The End of me- Maria

How I met her

I never wanted to be alive.

Actually, none of us choose to be on this godforsaken planet called earth. If you think about it, you were forced to be alive. To actually breath and care about your wellbeing. It's the survival instincts that makes on not kill themselves, and some of us? They don't have them.

Maria didn't, she took matters to her own hand. Not having a care about breaking other peoples lives apart. She was selfish- and if I'm being honest, cruel. On the other hand she was smart and outgoing. She had a lot friends, but none who she really trusted, not even me. Nobody knew her, not really.

Atleast that's what I thought. Because apparently I knew nothing about my friends.

Let's rewind.

Hi, I'm Luke. I'm a 17 year old boy, going to school and smoking weed. I'm what you can call a stereotypical white boy with the last-name Pritchett. So absolutely fucking white. Well, I met Maria when I was going to the lake. There was some festival that I wanted to go to. She and her friends were drinking and having fun. I was passing by, till she waved at me. She came up to me and told me I was handsome. Marias friends were giggling behind her, but she wasn't. She looked me straight in the eyes. And for some reason, I didn't walk away. This strange girl with long wavy her and hazel eyes, was somehow interesting. I gave her my number and we started texting. She was sweet, but I felt bad. I never texted her with enthusiasm. I sometimes let her wait for days and she still didn't let go. She texted me as if I was the first ever boy giving her attention. But that couldn't be true, she had great hips and a mesmerizing smile. How could one not give her attention? After weeks of treating her like shit, I told her that I had a girlfriend that broke up with me, and that I'm not ready for something new. Which was obviously a lie.

Maria wasn't sad or angry. She told me that she liked me as a person, which was weird cause she didn't knew me. This girl was so determined. She told me that we should stay friends and I said yes, but we never talked after that. I didn't met her in real life, besides that one time were she told me that I was handsome.

I never stopped thinking about her. About how her hair fell over her shoulders and stopped at her hips. About how her lashes were deep black and how her lips were dry because of the cold whether that evening. I never forgot the gray sweater she wore with the black shorts, that seemed a bit too big for her. And her shoes. Her shoes were dirty, but not disgusting. She pulled them off somehow. I never forgot her friends that laughed behind her, and the cake that was half eaten on a blanket with a vodka bottle beside it.

I never forgot how she asked me how old I was and I said 17. She was 16, I remember.

What was it with Maria, that I couldn't forget her so easily. A question I never got a answer to.