Our Time Has Come, and We've Got These Big City Dreams

I walked along the sidewalk, humming to myself. I zipped up my hoodie and made sure I looked okay. If the neighbors looked out and saw you looking like trash, the whole town would soon be at your butt, annoying you, pushing you, complicating your life.

Complication. That’s what I needed. A complication. Something to test me, to interest me.

“Tara! Tara Anderson!” I heard someone call. I turned around, to see the sneaky Mrs. White sitting on her porch. She was a gossip, that one.

“Hello, Mrs. White!” I called, flashing a smile. I walked past the house as quickly as I could, part of me wishing she hadn’t found anything about me to gossip about, and another wishing she had.

Like I said, I needed some complications.

I looked over to the other side of the street, and through the window I could see two teenagers from my school making out.

The whole town would know within hours. Nothing stayed secret. I sighed to myself, hoping they would shut the drapes to avoid a so-called “scandal”.

The sun was setting, throwing the sky into hues of pink and orange. The wind lazily breezed along. All in all, it was a pretty nice day. It was quiet.

Quiet.

That’s all it ever was.

Despite the little scandals, little dirty secrets here and there, it was quiet. Nothing big, nothing out of the ordinary.

Life takes unexpected turns. But so far, I hadn’t experienced anything new or crazy or unexpected.

It’s safe to say, that in the little town I had grew up in and lived in for my whole life, I was going crazy. Absolutely, positively, bang my head into the wall, scream to the world and break the silence, dye my hair pink crazy. I wanted to live. To be alive and to be living were to completely different things. One I was. One I wasn’t.

I was living.

But I wasn’t alive until the day I met him.