You literally never think it will be you. No matter how 'normal' your life is, and no matter how careful you are. If it is destined to happen, it'll happen. There is no stopping it.
As for Delilah Marie Jones, she probably had the most vanilla life ever. She was your typical teenage girl, just turned fifteen, about to get a drivers liscense. She had black hair and green eyes, she was around 5"3, one-twenty. Her favorite book was some generic love story that she discovered in middle school. Yes, she was one of the prettier girls in school, but she was insanely sweet. Most people thought that she was an easy hoe because she was 'gifted' in her chest and butt and had a very small waist. They didn't see past her looks and because of that they never got to know her.
She had an obnixiously boring life. Delilah was a very good kid. Never even dreamt of smoking or drinking and had straight A's and B's for the majority of her school life. But, as any typical life, there has to be something that makes you want to taste a bit of the dark side.
For Delilah, this time came in a typical time, high school. It even happened in a typical way. A transfer student from another state. His name was James Johnson. He was a bad boy. His hair matched hers and his eyes waffled back and forth between icey grey, to ocean blue. He had fluffy, curly hair that swooped across his face and occasionally snagged on his eyebrow ring. His face was peirced once on his right eyebrow and twice on his bottom lip. Delilah thought those were called snake bites. Delilah also thought that James was nice and cute. She should've thought more when she got mixed up with him.
If Delilah could have seen past his seemingly sweet/ punk exterior, maybe she would still be alive...
