It's his. His mark. I realize now as I study the marker of love on my body, on my shoulder. They say only those you feel great love for at the beginning end up near your original mark. A middle school crush's mark might be on your hand but someone you really care for is always on your leg, the right leg, where your own mark is. Mine is a bit easier to identify. It appears to be a lion, caught mid-roar while a flowing mane caresses it's head. This whole image is about the size of a quarter, right above the joint of my ankle, just where everyone else's is. It's supposed to symbolize one's personality but I seem to blatantly contradict mine. I shake my head. I need to get to school. Pulling my sock up, I slip on my boots and scoop up my bag. I lock the door behind me.
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MARK
RandomThis story is based on an alternate universe (AU) scenario that I'd seen once and wanted to write about. It can be a self insert, as the protagonist will remain nameless and gender neutral because the story is in first person. ALSO the person the pr...
