In the darkness of my dreams I can see you. Your dark brown hair, always messy, and your milky chocolate eyes fill my imagination. When you pull me closer, I can feel you; I can feel the softness of your skin and your rough denim jeans. In reality, you go to my school and I see you every day. We haven’t said a word to each other, but I have this feeling, this electrical current that passes through me as we sit on our chemistry stools. Can you feel it too? If love is blind, why do I see you so clearly now? I’ll write a book, write a verse, or write a melody, whatever it takes to tell you how I feel. But to you, I don’t exist.
One day I looked at you through the corner of my eye and you caught me looking at you. I blushed instantly, the blood filling my cheeks as the rosy color spilled across them. You smiled and I looked away, embarrassed. You tarred a corner of paper off your notes and wrote a little note. I tried to read what you were writing, but your hand covered your beautiful words. You slid it across the table as I looked at you curiously. Your hand brushed mine, starting a silent wild fire up my arm. I thought you would pull your hand away quickly, but you left it there and smiled. I took the note you had addressed to me and read it cautiously. You wrote it in your fantasizing cursive, artwork itself compared to my sad excuse of hand writing. Whitney, I read, your blush is kind of adorable. This of course resulted in me blushing again and you smiled. The classroom surrounding us was disappearing; all I could see was you. But the moment couldn’t last forever; the teacher asked me a question, pulling me out of the mesmerizing trance. I had to ask her to repeat the question and I got it wrong, but you didn’t notice; you were still looking at me.
When the bell rang, I hesitated, unsure if I should wait for you, but you left without me. I sadly left the room alone and went to my locker. I dropped my books accidentally, being the klutz I am, but when I bent down to get them, you were already there. Thanks, I mumbled to you. No problem, you said and then walked away. I was left to ponder, what did you think of me? Thoughts consumed my head as I walked to my next class.
But when I returned to my locker at the end of the day, out fell a note with your name, shocked, I put it in between my books and went outside, only to find rain. I ran for my car, trying to avoid the pounding drops as much as possible. Inside my dry pickup, I cleanly tarred open your letter. You asked me to meet you at the park at dusk, you said around sevenishh. Sevenishh, I thought to myself, what kind of time is that? What should I wear? Would you actually be there? And why did you want to meet at the park, for what reason? Was this supposed to be a date or are we just friends? I didn’t like your mysterious note; it left me to question everything.

It rained the whole way home, only blurring my mixed emotions more. I decided to do my homework to occupy my thoughts and waste time. I finished around five, but five is still two hours away from sevenishh. What was I going to do now? I made dinner for my depressed mother and left it at her door. My father had recently died in a car crash, leaving my mom devastated. She rarely left her room and when she did it was only to go to the kitchen to find a bottle of alcohol. I felt bad about everything, but there wasn’t anything I could do, I had already tried everything.

It was getting close to seven, so I choose to get ready. I didn’t change my clothes, unsure of your intentions. But I applied some makeup, only the basics; eye shadow, eyeliner, lip gloss, and mascara. I left at seven, hoping I wasn’t going to be too late for sevenishh. When I got to the park, I saw your car. I parked next to it and got out. On your windshield was a post it that read in the woods. I followed the small walking trail that lead into the woods. Each step, the sky grew darker and the trees thicker. After fifteen minutes of following the small dirt trail, I saw another post it, this one with an arrow, pointing off trail. I was really beginning to dislike your mysterious notes. Were you really going to be at the end of this scavenger hunt? It was hard to believe. But curiosity drove me, and I followed the arrow, which led to more arrows, each one bringing me deeper into the woods. I was beginning to get cold, goose bumps rising on my pale skin.
Finally I saw you. In the dark, my eyes could hardly make you out, as my heart raced, fear filling me. But then you stepped closer and it was like someone had turned on a light. You took off your jacket, realizing I was cold and put on my shoulders, the blood rushing back to my fingertips and toes. “Thanks,” I whispered as you placed your hand on the small of my back, guiding me to where you had been standing when I found you. You lead me to a tree and helped me climb the hand build latter. You followed me up, ready to catch me if I fell. The latter lead to a tree house built of wood and filled with knickknacks. It was unique and beautiful in its own special way. There were two bean bags and a blanket on the floor and you told me to sit. I sat, curious of what your intentions were. You walked up behind me with something in your hand. You said to close your eyes and I obeyed. I could hear the wooden floor creak as you stepped toward me, my eyes still closed.
You whispered “sorry” into my ear and I was about to ask why, but then I felt it. The pain ran though my back and swam down my spine. I wanted to die. I could hear the crunching of my back bones breaking, the muscle and tissue tarring like paper. I felt the blood pour down my back, staining the bean bag I was sitting on. Suddenly everything went black…