That day, I had managed to walk back home despite being sunburnt, dehydrated, and starved. I climbed up the stairs and opened the door to my shoebox penthouse that overlooked Northern California. My grandfather let me stay there as long as I cleaned up after the tenants below.
I plopped onto the disheveled mattress on the floor and tried to fall asleep. Only, my stomach was too empty and my mind was too busy to actually shut off and fall asleep. So, on the night of my 17th birthday, I laid there for hours and imagined a world worth remembering.
A world where I was an astronaut who was the first man on mars; I dated some a-list celebrity and we died in a tragic accident.
I imagined many more worlds, but that's the only one that I remember.
Despite the emptiness in my stomach, I had managed to drift into a slumber for a while. Until I was woken up by a silent buzzing next to my face. 7:00 A.M. School.
School was something that I did just to do it. My grades weren't bad, but my grades weren't good. I wasn't in any clubs and I'd never been to any of the dances. I didn't know my classmates, and they did not know me. There were rumors and jokes that people would make about me just because of how quiet I was. I had this one very annoying counselor who would follow me around to make sure that I was "adjusting." I was fine, really. School was just something that I did just to do it.
I woke up and got ready for the day. Nothing to fancy, just enough to feel clean. My curls needed a trim, but I ignored it despite the pile of hair that covered my eyes. I also needed to shave, but I ignored it because I simply did not feel like it. I left the house with a black shirt and shorts on. It was another annoyingly sunny day and my skin stung as my sunburn began to blister. I ignored it all and walked for maybe 3-4 miles? Along the way I could no longer ignore my hunger and entered a smoke shop by my school. I walked up familiar steps and entered a makeshift restaurant.
The ceiling was exposed and the walls were eroding, but it was filled with men who talked about things that probably had to deal with money or booze. I walked up to the service table and picked up a random sandwich.
"You look like shit," said a man with greying hair. He had bronze skin and two gold teeth that would shine every time light refracted off of it.
"Thank you," I said, as I picked up a sprite from the freezer. My facial expression did not change and I did not turn to acknowledge his existence. My grandfather was such a shit.
"Hey, Mijo,'" How was yesterday?"
"..."
I turned to walk away; I was not ready to talk about it. We weren't people who talked about things, especially things like that.
"Hey!" he yelled, as he tried to run after me, but I was already gone. I crossed the street and ate what turned out to be a Cuban sandwich on my way down the block. I was so hungry that I bit into the foil.
When I got to the building, I threw out the wrapper into a random garbage can and walked through the front gates. Nothing interesting happened, so I won't bore you with the details, just calculus and a random philosophy elective.
I was in the cafeteria when he first approached me. His hair was smooth and properly maintained, his clothes were branded, and his bookbag was made of leather. I put my head down and stared at the blank screen on my phone in an effort to ignore him. No one had ever sat next to me and I did not know how to deal with it.
"Hello," he said, smilingly.
I froze. My fingers stopped scrolling and my eyes stopped blinking. I held my breath. I had hoped that it was all a mistake and that he would disappear, but he did not.
He continued to stare at me and when I tilted my head a little, I realized that he had the bluest eyes that I've ever seen. This deeply contrasted his dark skin. I had no choice but to acknowledge his existence.
"Hello?" I questioned, still unsure about reality.
"I wanted to say this yesterday but you weren't here, Happy birthday!" He said excitedly. My heart sank and my leg began to shake.
"Oh, thank you," I stammered, and I tried to turn around and ignore him once more, but he sat there STILL!
Despite my efforts he continued, "Well you see, this all might sound strange but what I'm about to say is absolutely true," he said calmly, and my head turned slowly as I began to question the sanity of this random person.
"You will die today," he said, with a straight face.
"Pfffft," I couldn't help but laugh, it was a good joke really. Was this some new trend? To go up to people and tell them that they were going to die
He sighed, "Well alright then, my job is done- believe it or not; you will die today," "Today is your last day as Francis Van, so spend it wisely," he said, again with a completely serious face.
I was waiting for him to break character and laugh, but he sat there with a steady smile on his face. Maybe a few of his friends would come out with their phones, laughing about how it was all a joke. Or maybe, just maybe, he was just a figment of my hyperactive imagination. I sat there with my mouth agape, staring at a man who had just raised my death flag.
Maybe, just maybe, I had finally lost my fucking mind.
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