I can see the hose injected in my hand, I can feel the needle in my flesh, I can hear the sound of my life from the monitor, I can smell the essence of the hospital and my medicines.
I was born to live my life this way and I was born to write a letter for the girl I love, yes, in a short period of time I learned to love, to love the girl I love to waste time just by looking and staring at her.
I know she's been looking for me too, sadly but I haven't has her name. I wish I have it.
I took my journal and open the pages where her picture was kept, I took it when we were reading together.
As I look at her, I remember all the things she taught me and I can't help but smile.
YOU ARE READING
Who Are You
Short StoryName is everyone's trophy, as for Claire his name she always misses in everyday. Who in the world would forget to asks anyone's name? She would always looked forward for a stranger she didn't expect will engrave mystery in her college life. A strang...
