My Death and Love Story

Chapter 1

This is the story of how falling in love was my doom. I was 22 when I found my soulmate. I discovered that he had a dark secret. Maybe one that I should've left alone.

I walked down the street to my house, when I noticed a man in a black hood past me on the sidewalk. When I was walking, I felt like I was being watched. I spun around and saw him staring at me. I turned back around and walked faster. When I got home, it was late. I didn't know what time it was, but it looked like it was 12:00 am. I should stop letting my friends talk me into going to those parties. They aren't my kind of scenes anyway.

I woke up and heard a banging on the front door. I got up to open the door, standing before me was a guy. He was wearing ripped jeans and a skull cross shirt. He had dark brown messed up hair with bright green eyes, he was cute in his own twisted way. "Excuse me, are you okay?" He asked with a concerned look. Shit, he must have noticed me staring. "Yes, um, what can I do for you?" I asked, trying to act cool. "I just moved here, and I need help finding my way around." He said, flashing me a bittersweet smile. "Um, sure." I shrugged.
"Do you know where the nearest gas station is?" he asked, pointing to the flat tire on his car. "Oh yeah, it down the street, but are you sure you don't need a tire store or something," I said, pointing to the left of the street. "Thank you, but I'll figure out the rest for myself," He said, flashing me another smile. "Your welcome. Oh wait, how are you getting your car to the gas station with that tire? "I said, shooting him an enigmatic smile. "Don't worry about me, okay." He turned on his heels and walk away. He stopped and walked back toward me. "Oh, I didn't get your name," He said casually, running his fingers through his hair. "My name is Jessica," I said, leaning on the doorway wall, trying to look cool. "Cool, my name is Oliver, by the way," He said, waving as he headed toward his car. I flashed him a smile as he drove away. I shut the door behind me, then went to the bathroom and took a shower.
Of Course, my first thoughts of him were scattered. He was cute but mysterious, and those eyes I've seen them before but couldn't put my finger on where and when. "Oliver," the name definitely didn't match style. I've never met a guy named Oliver, who had bad boy written all over him. There are maybe a hundred warning signs not to get involved, but I want to see him again. Wait, did he say he was my new neighbor?