three months

t proclaimed a death sentence on me. I fight back the tears thr

trying to prove to the scholarship board that I am worth their sweats. I have worked tons of part-time jobs to make up for w

y

and have to die suddenly when it

meant to be

suffer and die

he road as a two-month-old baby. There, a good Samaritan had picked me up and

es and faint hopes are

tor calls to ge

ven. What is the point of having a fancy name

mental hole I have craw

eyes clouding with

. Would he be fine if he

my diagnosis result to me. "But get back

or. If I have just three months to live, I am not going to spend the

experience. I know the first thing I am going to do, and that is to lose th

my brown hair in curls, black eyeshadow boldly complementing bold lipstick and my ski

though. I am

eone drawls behind me a

ple grinding against one another, and I feel t

yself to

but I want the memory to be unforgettable. I want my first sexual experience

ss, knowing as I set my gaze on him that he is the one. We stare at each other without making a

hat he can do to me if I am in his

rce myself not to dash to the door, feel

sultry as I approach him and hope I am doing a good job of it. The last thing I want to d

crowd bumping and humping against one another. Our gazes are locked together, scarcely an

ulls me closer, wrapping his arm around my waist. I let out a gasp at the p

mentally scream o

r been held by

ing my skin as he nuzzles his mou

to keep myself from moaning out loud. His words are straight

g my gaze on him. He runs his tongue briefly on his lowe

es above me, and looking handsome and rugged, he is everything I dream of in a bad boy. I

sorry for being

leading me out of the club to wherever the devil knows. I do

rl in me, the one I have purposely bur

am going to die anyway. At least, I

fear of death talk me out of ha