Death could be so unpredictable, am I right? You see I never really pictured how I'll die. My life was okay, or as okay as okay could be for me. Haunted from my past. Always pretending. Except with Adrian. My Adrian. With him I can be happy.
But t...
Author's Note: I know that it's more professional to write out the numbers instead of putting in numerals, but I want you, readers, to read this as Shelby telling you the story. And this is the unique style writing that Shelby has chosen. The numerals are on purpose and has a reason behind them.
Hope you enjoy Shelby's story :)
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I love numbers. They're infinite. Just floating there in space on a thread, so close that my 2 hands could grasp them and smash them with my 10 fingers.
That's why I have done the math as to how many days I have been in this world which is: 6,085. And life is perfect. At least, that's what I keep on telling myself, day in and day out. My DNA/coding is already equipped with all the goodness in my life. I have a loving family and school's great. I have my small group of friends that I love to pieces. And then there's the boy next door, Adrian Malik.
Adrian, my best friend since diapers, our early years of adolescence, and awkward peeks of teenagehood. During those 4 years we laughed when his body became long and lanky, his voice squeaky, and the acne---oh the stupid acne dotting his cheeks. Back then, I wasn't shy around him. Even though puberty did wonders for me. My small scrawny body gained all the perfect curves of a girl going into womanhood. I was told by my mother that I was becoming a beautiful young woman.
But as the years went on, Adrian started to change. His long and lanky body grew a lot of muscle from working out, his voice now deep, and the acne just disappeared---his light skin revealing all those sharp features. The razor-sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and those dazzling evergreen eyes, that I could just gaze into all day. Which I don't do. Because these days when I'm around him, I crawl into my shell, hiding from him and his good looks, hoping that he won't see me for who I am; his best friend who so happens to be love-stricken with him.
Yeah, I know I'm like every other almost seventeen-year-old girl out there who falls in love with her best friend. But unlike those brave ones who take action on confessing their feelings, I lock mine up in the chambers of my heart.
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So when Adrian wakes me like he has done every Saturday night since the age of 12 by tossing pebbles at my window--- I feel the blush spreading up my body like the plague. Trying to ignore it, I climb out of bed already dressed in my sunflower-yellow hoodie and jeans, and pad over to the window. A smile makes its way onto my face as I push the lavender drapes aside and spot Adrian standing near the rose bushes Mom had insisted on planting last year.
