TW: this story has mentions of abuse and suicide.
i still remember the first time i saw you.
it was a monday, long before school started. i had gotten there early to take a test i had missed. as i walked up to the front doors, you caught my eye.
you were under a tree, the sun shining down on you brightly, causing the light to radiate around you and make it seem like you were glowing. a piece of your red hair fell over your face and you tucked it back behind your ear.
i had stopped walking to get a better look at you. i guess you sensed me, because you tore your gaze from your book and your aqua blue eyes met my own gray ones.
i quickly continued walking toward the front doors, heat creeping up my neck. i must have looked like a creeper just watching you.
i'm sorry about that. i didn't mean to make you nervous.
YOU ARE READING
i'm sorry.
Short Story(Completed) your body was a canvas and your father's fist was the paintbrush. lowercase intended
