As I get ready for a night out with my friends I go through my closet in desperate search for anything good to wear.
"Seriously! I have a closet full of clothes and I don't have anything to wear!"
I decide to give it a rest and go to the restroom to get my hair and makeup out of the way then get back to it later.
****
The makeup comes out wonderfully (finally something that doesn't go to shit) and I dreadfully drag myself back into my room.
"what..."
I glance at my bed with total confusion and disturbance.
"what the hell.."
A silk oversized purple baseball shirt was laid down on my bed. I replay each moment from when I left my room to when I came back. And I don't recall grabbing that shirt out from my closet.
The night out with my friends floods back into my head. I check my phone for the time and flinch when I realize I only have little time to finish getting ready.
I snatch the purple shirt and pull it over my head, completing the outfit with black ripped jeans and purple converse.
One last look in the mirror and I freeze.
There was a number seven on the back of the shirt.
Seven.
The number seven had grown to be my favorite number. It represented Caleb. It was his baseball number.
****
YOU ARE READING
Love.
FanfictionNew beginnings. Two young people unaware of their future and events life has in store for them. Unfortunately, things take a turn for the worst.
