Is a Future Realistic?

chαptєr σnє: íntrσductíσns

Warning: this story has themes of murder, rape, and suicide. I will try not to go into detail, unless needed, but still be warned.

'Opposites attract'.
Sort of true.
She is a girl.
I am a boy.
I have olive skin.
She has pale skin.
I have curly hair.
She has straight hair.
I have dark brown hair.
She has light brown hair.
I have brown eyes.
She has blue eyes.
See the opposites?
Well, we have similar situations later in life, which makes us not polar opposites.
No two people could be completely opposite.
Opposites attract because the other is different from them, while also having maybe a slight agreement on something.
A person who's homosexual is not going to be with someone who is heterosexual, due to the opposite sexualities.
Everyone has at least one common trait.
.
.
.
I was nine.
I saw a little girl from across the daycare.
She didn't wear what the normal nine year olds wore.
The clothes looked worn. They were always darker colors.
Plain.
No funny hot pink words, no cartoon character, nothing.
She caught my eye.
I assumed we had similar interests in clothing choices.
Slightly different, but still similar.
That was the small connection that made me curious, which also went alongside the differences.
Anyways, she was playing dolls by herself.
Even though I was a boy, I wanted to be there.
I didn't want her to be lonely.
So, I walked over.
When I was nine, I was really outgoing.
I sat down, and said,
"Hello!"
"Oh, uh, hi. Do you want to play dolls with me?"
"Uhm. Yes."
She chuckled, "but you're a boy! Boys don't play with dolls."

No, she wasn't sexist. No nine year old truly thinks they are superior to the other gender.
Every kid knew what was for 'boys' and what was for 'girls'. They knew you could play with toys meant for the opposite gender, but it just didn't happen often.

"Well, I do. I play with my sister, Dani, a lot. She's six."
"Oh. Okay. Who are you?"
"I'm Marcello. But it's a big name, so just call me Mars."
She smiled, "it's a cool name, I don't want to call you Mars."
"Oh. That's okay, too."
"Well, I'm Inez."
"That's a, uh, a nice name."
There was silence.
"Okay. Can I be that boy doll?"

And that's how we met. We were best friends, but once we reached middle school, I started to become friends with one of her friends. Her friend was named Elizabella. Then, I met her sister, Anibella, in freshman year. In my sophomore year, I started to date Anibella. I did still talk to Inez, but not as much as I used to.
Lots of friends do that.
Their meeting seems perfect. It seems like they will be friends forever.
But sometimes, it just doesn't work out.
And that doesn't have to be a bad thing.
You need to expand your horizons, and meet new people.
But sometimes, expanding those horizons also fades away what was once the center.

I won't explain much yet, but Anibella and I disappeared when we were sixteen.
I was found at age eighteen.
Anibella never was.
And I've been holding this secret from everyone.
And that might be why I don't talk to Inez or Elizabella that much.
I feel so fucking guilty.

Because I know where Anibella is.
But I can't tell them.
And not telling them just eats me up inside.
But I think telling them will only make matters worse.

I was living with one of my friends, Kevin.
I lived with him secretly, until I turned eighteen. Because, then I could decide to live with my friend.

He's a little older than me.
Actually, like, a lot older.
Our gap is fourteen years.
But we weren't dating or anything. It wasn't like that. We were just... friends.

I soon realized that Kevin was a little fucked up. Well, I figured it out at sixteen. But I hadn't known for sure until I was nineteen.

At this time, Inez was looking for a new roommate.

I needed to leave that house.

It was the perfect timing.