How I Was Born to Die

Prologue

It was known in the small town where I lived that I didn't talk much. If someone said a polite hello, I'd reply, but it's be shocking if I elaborated. Everyone thought I was just really shy, but that wasn't the case. Maybe I was goth? I thought about death too much? It as simple in my eyes; I just hated talking to idiots, and that's what most of the world was.

Idiots.

My mother was worried about the lack of words from me. I rarely spoke, even at home. At dinner, there was only silence, no sound at all besides our silverware clinking against glass and ceramic. "Anya?" My parents would ask, "What's wrong?"

But I couldn't answer. Was there something wrong with me? I never thought so, but then there was everyone else. . . They would send me to counselor after counselor, but it was a waste. I wouldn't speak. There were no words to said.

NOTHING IS WRONG WITH BEING QUIET! I wanted to yell, but I didn't, because I never said anything.

No one tried to get through to me. At school I'd hear my name being whispered with a bunch of unsavory words no one would ever want to be called and then they's act like I just because my mouth was still, I couldn't hear them. No one paid any attention other that that.

Except one.

Jude.

.

He made it easier to breathe with a goofy grin that stole a smile from my own face. He was in algebra with me, his seat right in front of mine. Day after day, I'd stare at the back of his head and memorize his manerisms. Sometimes I'd wish he'd turn and talk to me. It was sweet, the way he talked to others.

Then one day he did turn around with the biggest smile in his face. I breathed in everything about him. From the countless freckles that littered his cheeks, to the band t-shirt. He was beautiful. Jude pushed his fingers through his lushious black curls then tossed a grin that was menat just for me and ask, "Do you get any of this? 'Cause I sure as hell don't."

I laughed, as in actually laughed, ad shook my head. Jude shrugged and turned back around, the aura of success just rolling off him. He was the first and only one to make the myserious girl in math class chuckle.

Jude didn't turn around again for another week. Same smile, different shirt."

"Anya?" He stated. "I really don't mean to bother you, but I'm wondering...do you get this?"

This time I nodded.

"Great! Obviously Ms. Roberts don't, she can't teach it."

"I could tutor you," I said slowly. My voice sonded strange. Did I really just say that? I cleared my throat a couple times then squeaked, "Yeah?"

Jude chuckled, seeming elated. "Yes! How 'bout we meet by the bleachers around three?"

I instantly agreed.

After sixth hour, I trudged through the tall grass with my heavy backpack slung over my shoulder and 'Algebra2 For Dummies' hugged close to my chest.

Jude was already waiting, a cirgarettehanging from teh corner of his mouth that was pulled up into a smile. I waved.

"I thought we could chill on the ground," he said.

I shrugged and dumped all my books onto the grass then plopped down beside them. Jude laughed and joined me. "I didn't really want to study," he admitted, blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

"What?"

"I needed a reason to see you."

"Well. . . um." I shuffled around the books and papers before deciding on shoving them back in my bag.

"We've been in the same math class for years and yet I know nothing about you."

I couldn't tell if he was joking. I kept searching his face for a crack, but there was none. Was he serious?

"Why would you want?" I asked. The rational part of me couldn't believe this was anything but a dare.

"Anya, I'm serious." Jude moved closer to me, his hand reaching up to touch my cheek. Slowly, his lips pressed to mine.

I was never this daring. If it wasn't some guy I had a puppy-love crush on, the kiss would never been allowed to happen.

I couldn't escape the thought that this was a dare. We talked three time at the most and noe he was kissing me. Does this even happen in real life?

I'm not a slut I'm not a slut I'm not a slut I'm not a slut.

I pushed him off of me. That warm bubbly feeling instantly turning cold. With wide eyes, I threw my bag over my shoulder and darted off across the football field.

"Anya I'm sorry!" He called after me.

I didn't look back or stop, because even though no apart of me would ever admit it, I had really enjoyed the kiss.

So on after that day, I avioded Jude like my life depended on it. My only class with him was Algebra, and it was easy enough to take the liberty to skip the class altogether. Bubt unfortuately, that couldn't happen everyday. I barely understood what was happening when I was there. My grade would soon crumble.

So three day later, I stumbled into class and slumped down into my seat. My cheeks satreed burnign crimson when he walked in.

Jude didn't say anything for the whole class, instead, he let out these little moans ans sighes every other minute or so. I didn't know what to think. Was he stating the truth that day. Did he really want to get to know me? Me? Of all people?

I was folding in, my house of cards collapsing. He didn't really like me. I could tell.

until. . .

A note was dropped on my desk.

Anya,

My mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it. And the idea that you may kiss it again is permanently imprinted in my brain, which hasn't stopped thing about you since, well, before any kiss --- and now the prospect of those kisses seem to wind me lup like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of that back. The notion of them combing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamilar degree,

~Jude

The note hit me like a pile of bricks to the chest. i didn't even know this boy, but I fell. I read that endeaaring "love" letter again and fell down the rabbit whole.

I sucked in a deep breath. With a mysterious smile lingering over my lips, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around nervously.

"You're cruel," I said, then cracked a grin.

Jude laughed, "And I'm a fool for you."