Nothing was the same

To get some things out of the way first, my name is Aj, and I am dead. I was 87 when I finally passed, in a quaint nursing home in America. I was born in Olympia, Oregon and lived there until 22nd birthday. This is also where I met my first love. Now I come to think of it, my only love. Love does strange things to you when you experience it. To me, I always thought of love as just a mindless activity people partook in to try to fill the lonleyness in the heart. But in reality, that lonleyness will never be filled. In fact, that lonleyness is just the atoms in the universe co-insisting because we in fact, haven't met our one true loves yet. I on the other hand, met mine during the worst time of my life. Talk about an oxymoron.

AJS POV:
I was on my way home from school that day, a Monday. Mondays suck for me because that's the day I have PE first period, which meant I had to wear short sleeves. Ick. I dabbled in self harm in the past, leaving a few scars here and there. But the small, black dots on my forearm where a give away of the things I did to myself. It started with H. heroine. Nobody brought them up. I'm glad they didn't. My mom had stashes of it hidden in her mattres. I only did it when I needed it most, needed to feel alive.

So back to my story. I was walking down a familiar road to my house when I stumbled upon a little rock on the side of the road. It was my Junior year in highschool and I've walked down the road thousands of times and I've never noticed it. Strange how a little rock can catch your attention. I decided to pick it up and continued my journey along the little path, the autum air nipping at my nose. I was almost home when I heard a laugh off in the distance, coming from the house to my right. I kept on walking, thinking nothing of it until I heard footsteps behind me. I saw a figure running towards me. so flipping out, I threw the rock at the man. He did a 180 and fell to the ground, a football hitting the ground a few feet in frontif him.

Oh shit. I thought, he was just running to catch a football.

"Shit sorry, are you okay?" I mumbled, embarressd. The stranger didn't reply, instead he got up, looked me up and down and smiled.

"my names Harry, nice to meet you" he Replyed with a smile. When he was fully standing, he was a lot taller and more built than I had imagined.
"if it weren't for this little rock, I wouldn't have been able to look at such a beautiful face" he laughed.

I was was suprised by his words. Of course I'm cat called and harrassed on a daily basis, but never called beautiful.

"T-thanks" I said.

"HARRY YA DAMN WANKA LETS GO THROW THE DAMN PIG SKIN" a British accent yelled from the distance. With that, he gave one more smile, and was off running.

I coninued on my way home , with a huge smile on my face, thinking about the curly headed boy. What if he liked me? I dismisses the thought as I walked into my house, to find my mother on the couch, holding a bottle of empty pills, with no pulse.

Notes

First chapter! A bit short, but my first go. Please leave comments! Love you all:)