"Run, run, run as fast as you can..." I trailed off, pulling the joint from my lips as I watched numerous idiots jog around the football field. "You'll never catch me, because I'm just an idiot who's smoking pot in plain sight."

. . .

That certainly didn't rhyme. Nope, not even close.

What? You're giving me this odd look, like you're wondering why I'm talking to you - a complete stranger, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Well, for someone like me, I guess talking to a total stranger is completely normal. Why, you ask? That's simply the result of me not being normal. Yeah, I'm not normal at all. As a matter of fact, I'm just a complete fucking basketcase.

Who am I? You see, that's the problem. I'm not quite certain of who I am, outside of my name and age, of course. I am a little of this, and a little of that. I am a little bit of an asshole, and a little bit of a gentleman. I'm a stoner, but not a full-blown druggie. Ever since then, I haven't been sure of who I actually am - as a person. However, there are still a few things I'm sure of.

I'm a stoner, a manwhore, and a killer. Yeah, about that last one...we'll get to that tidbit soon enough.

Anyhow, I'm talking to you because I feel like I need to tell someone my story, albeit somewhat selfishly. My story, to say the least, is quite complicated and it might not be for everyone. However, I'm not going to hold back anything. I want you to know everything, absolutely everything. Every last detail. The blood, the grief, and quite embarrassingly, the tears. I won't hold it against you if you want to run away, but if you want to listen, I'd appreciate it.

Well, I guess it would probably help if I gave you my name, now wouldn't it? How forgetful of me. My name is Aiden Jacobson - Aiden Cyrus Jacobson, to be exact, but most tend to call me Cyrus. As of right now, I'm twenty-four, but my story will take us back to middle of my freshman year of high school. Yeah, looking at myself back then at fifteen years old, I was just downright cringeworthy - laughable, even.

Even so, she still loved me - and I, undoubtedly, felt the same. I was infatuated with here, to the point where nothing else mattered. It felt like we lived in a world of our own. Granted, I'm not a mindreader or anything, but this is pretty typical of teen couples, no? Anyhow, I'm getting ahead of myself at this point. I'm here to tell you my story, and for this reason, I will tell it as such. From this point on, I will not butt in unless I need to explain something to you, my dear stranger.

***

It was in the afternoon, likely just past two o'clock as the bell had rung and the hallways were void of life, outside of myself and Kylie. We sat, hand in hand, with our backs against the lockers. While not a word was said between us at this time, the thumping of my heart had more than made up for it. It was love, a love that was meant to be - fated - and that was something I was absolutely sure of. I had no doubts that I would be with her until the day I passed.

As you, my dear stranger, already know, Kylie Kelso was the girl that loved my cringeworthy self. As I mentioned, I was infatuated with her - a girl I had only known for a year. This was a year in which we swiftly began to practice our childlike concept of dating. I was, without doubt or mistake, in love with a woman who was going to be my everything, my everyday.

Kylie ever so silently lifted her head from my shoulder, so quietly that I hadn't noticed any sort of movement. It was only when her palm glided down my thigh that I had felt anything. Her hand stopped right above the zipper of my jeans, and with a gentle, yet nervous touch, her hand had enveloped the entire area. It was only then that my, admittedly innocent, brain had somewhat caught on to the situation.

"Aiden," Kylie nearly whispered. "I want to do..."

The blatant nervousness in her voice had piqued my interest, as I had never heard that exact sound come from her. Attempting to keep my voice at a similar level, I tried to ignore the hand on my crotch. "What do you want to do?"

Kylie tightened her grip on my hand, her shaking had given away just how nervous she had been. Her stomach caved in with a deep, almost exaggerated-looking breath of air before releasing a loud shaky exhale. I wasn't able to catch her drift, and I had only made it that much harder for her. Kylie looked at me, and this time, said it point-blank.

"Aiden, I want it to be you," she paused. "I want you to take my virginity."

I'm sure my jaw, quite literally, dropped. Kylie had made her intentions as clear as day. I, needless to say, was speechless. I had no prior warning, and she had nearly yelled those words in an empty hallway. Her eyes began to glisten with a sudden stubbornness I had never seen from her. I had no idea what to say, and I'm sure it was written all over my red face.

"My sister is on vacation and she has everything...we need." Kylie stopped, and pulled out her phone. "We can just tell our parents that we are spending the weekend at a friends house. We'll have the whole weekend to ourselves, Aiden. Just you and me."

Kylie frantically looked up from her phone and continued to talk in similar manner. "I'm sure if I talk to my sister about it, we can use the other room whenever we want." Kylie had been on the verge of crying after only moments of speaking, for the sole reason of convincing me. "Please, Aiden?"

"If that's what you want." I smiled, unsure of the answer I had given her. Her blank expression hadn't helped me any, either.

As though Kylie had been a sudden burst of lightning, she was on her feet and typing something on her phone. Her smile had spoken a thousand words to me, however. I knew I had given her the right answer, but the one thing I hadn't been sure of was the twisting feeling in the gut my stomach. Had I given myself the wrong answer, or was it just nerves? Figuring it was the latter, we went our separate ways and decided to meet later that evening at a park that sat a few blocks away her home.

-

Stepping through the door, I was greeted by the stern expression of my mothers face. I already knew the reason for this uncomfortable, all-seeing glare, and that reason was my dead father. Years ago, we received a call from a news group called The Opening, asking us if they knew the location of my father. From this moment on, a massive investigation thundered into our lives, and essentially flipped everything in my life on its head.

Some time later, the case was closed. The result being that my father was a criminal who ran to another country. He had stolen a lot of money from a lot of powerful people under the guise of hiding that already dirty money. He was a criminal accountant. I had no clue if my father was dead or alive, all we had known was that there was a lot of dangerous people after him - and therefore, us as well.

"You are supposed to call me if you're not going to be home right away." she damn near hissed. "What were you doing?"

"I was with...my friends." I paused in between the sentence as that twisting sensation returned. "I'm gonna stay the weekend at Mack's house."

"...Okay." my mother tried to hide her sigh as she brought her hand to my hair, gliding her fingers through it. "What about adults, will they be there? Will she be there?"

I'm sure you heard the animosity in that single word, my dear stranger. Well, there is quite a story behind this - and it is, indeed, about Kylie and I. You see, Kylie's father, and brother, didn't like the fact that she was dating the son of a criminal. Her father was quite blunt about it, telling me to stay away from his daughter or I would pay dearly for it, at least in so many words. I hadn't heeded his warning and continued seeing Kylie.

While it wasn't by his hands, I surely did pay for it. Instead of her father, it was her brother and his many, many friends that took care of the job. A few broken ribs, missing teeth, and a smashed ankle later, I found myself in a hospital bed with a pain I promised myself I would never feel again. I had been practicing martial arts most of my life, but even so, that didn't matter against what was likely twelve or thirteen people.

Though it may be obvious, I hadn't learned. The first thing I had done after being discharged was meet Kylie, who I later found out hadn't talked to her father or brother since. Looking back, maybe I should have just disappeared from her life - or maybe I should've disappeared from the normal, living world, much like my father had. That way, nothing would have ever happened to me, nor her.

"No, she won't be there, and yes, his parents will be there." I answered, stepping around her and heading for my room. "I'm going later tonight. I don't need dinner, either."

In my room, I dug through my drawers and found what I was looking for. What I was searching for was a bundle of money, money that I had saved up from chores, odd jobs, and holiday gifts. At this time, I had a little over a thousand dollars to my name. Immediately, I stuffed it deep into my pocket and continued to pack a small bag of stuff I would need - all while stuffing that twisting sensation deep into the bottomless pit that was my teenage stomach.

Now, my dear stranger, don't get the wrong idea. I was excited, everywhere - much like any teenage boy would likely be. Well, assuming they were into women, of course. Anyhow, it was as though something was tugging at me, telling me not to go meet her. Was it my own personal will that drove me to go, or was it the raging, teenage hormones? I don't quite know myself, even to this day.

***

Time, albeit slowly, drudged forward.

Soon enough, I stood before her. Even through the darkness of the dimly lit park, Kylie's smile was brighter than a thousand suns - a million, even. With her hair draped over her shoulders, she, likewise, had a small bag in her hand. The air around us was silent, but it wasn't a bad silence. It was as though no words were needed between us. We could read each others minds on that dark night.

"Let's go?"