When I turned thirteen, I was given the talk.
This one wasn’t about the birds and bees, but my love life. Because I was different. My whole family was. We could date, yes. However, in the end, there’s only one person we’ll end up with. Every other relationship will come crashing down.
And to make it more complicated, anytime after I’m eighteen I’ll start getting visions. Now, as creepy as that sounds, it gets worse. These visions will be through my lover’s eyes. How creepy is that?
What if they’re showering? Or changing clothes? Awkward...
So, I guess seven years later, I should have been prepared for the dream. I had been given an hour talk about it. One that was imprinted in my head. Warning me that no matter what, don’t go against it.
My mom tried to, once seeing she was paired with my father, but it didn’t work. The man she tried to marry ended up dying the day of her wedding. And that wasn’t the first time it happened. My cousin had refused to get married, period. Any guy she went on a date with, ended up gone. Vanished.
Yet, when I saw my dream, one thing was on my mind: No.
It played on repeat in my head, a memory of his, one of him bullying a girl. Where he punched her. Where he terrorized her. I couldn’t tell anything in particular about him, but one thing stuck in my head. Near the end, he dumped a bucket of paint over her head. Except, it got all over him in the process.
I can make it on my own, I know it. All I have to do is avoid any guy that talks to me. That way, I don’t hurt anyone, and no one can hurt me. Should be easy enough, right?
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