he was tall.
too tall, almost intimidating.
dark brunette hair, honey colored eyes and three distinctive freckles on his neck.
a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in his hand and his eyes staring at me.
"what are you doing here?" he asked.
i stopped staring and the wind closed the door shut behind me.
"shit, idiot."
he ran to the door and shouted profanities, jiggling the door.
and then i uttered my first words to him.
"i'm not an idiot."
"yes you are, because if you haven't noticed, you locked us out here."
he fell to the ground in frustration.
we were locked on a roof.
this is why i feel like life doesn't want me to be happy.
cause they forced misfortunes like these upon my life.
"sorry."
he just glared.
YOU ARE READING
Eleven
Short Storywe met on a rooftop on the 11th day of the 11th month of the 11th hour. all because i had a seizure. it was weird because i hadn't had one in eight months. maybe it was fate. or maybe it was meant to be fatal. seeing as though we met at a hospital. ...
