The Story of Tonight [Prologue]

A day you were to meet the one you might have the privilege of spending the rest of your life with but the one thing that you feared all those years of waiting was to happen, yet you hadn’t a clue I’d actually go through with it. I spoke of it on occasion, because it terrified me to no end. I knew it was wrong, and I knew that I shouldn’t do it. It was a life, but what is a life? Nothing. Nothing as far as I’m concerned.

I hear the pleading in my head. The beating of my heart crashing into the walls of my chest. I feel the pain in their screams, but I also feel the rush of it all. The running, the hiding, the sound of them clawing at their necks. I’ve been called many things. Psychotic, a sociopath, messed up, wrong, a killer. But I don’t like to think of myself like that. I lead a relatively normal life. I drink tea in the mornings, clean in the afternoons, go to school, make a living, I even paint, and I earn cash for it.

I take a glance at the dates written on my wrists. There are two, one, which is today's date, and another, the same. The idea is simple, everyone is born with two dates written on either of their wrists, the day they meet the person they’re to spend the rest of their life with, and their death date. Now I suppose there’s room for concern where mine are set, but there’s really no reason. There’s a plan, and there’s an objectified way that it’s to play out and considering what’s written, my best guess is that it goes accordingly.