Violet

-Violet-

I had a curiosity about death. Some say I was in love with it. That’s overstating it. I just find it interesting. Now, I might be part of it.

Number eleven.

I am going to die next year during the Fire Festival. I don’t know how to take this. I haven’t said a word. I don’t think they’ll believe me. Oh! The death-obsessed girl says she’s going to die. It makes sense in a way. Hell, I probably wouldn’t believe me. So… what now?

Honestly, I don’t know.

I got a text the other day.

“We need to talk. What number do you have?”

I stared at the screen. “What is this?” Any normal person would’ve deleted the text. But as you can guess I am not normal. So I hit reply.

“Uh… Who is this? How did you get this number?” I pressed send. Seconds later I got another.

“Zoey sent me your number.”

“Suzuki Zoey. She goes to your school.”

Sounded familiar. I stared at my phone. Maybe I should call them. I was about to when my phone pinged. Another text came in.

“What is your number?”

I froze. I looked at my back. Was I really going to do this? I took a breath and started typing.

“Eleven. You?” I sat back and waited. Those three dots appeared. I looked around in the library. No one was looking at me. Good.

I got a response.

“Twenty-one.”

Heh. I started typing.

“Who are you? Where are you?” I don’t know how I’m going to do this. What would I do if I ran into him? Or her? Or them. I looked down to see a reply being typed. I waited as the three dots bounced on the screen. I found myself holding my breath. What the hell? Why was I so nervous? It all felt so ridiculous.

“Look up.”

I lifted my head. A boy a little bit younger than me stood across the room. He waved at me. Suddenly, my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked. I saw him on the phone as well. (I’m not sure why he did this.)