Growing up, I never thought it’d be like this, every story comes out with some type of happy endings for everyone, right? Or some type of kissing under the orange sunset type ending? Then I shouldn’t be scared of what’s to come next right? I guess that’s another check mark for another time that I’m wrong.
My name is Max. Max Wilson, lame generic boy I know, but that’s besides the point. I’m sixteen, so you can already tell where this is going, “Oh boy another classic high school story with another drama-induced plot.” To be honest I wish that was the plot of what was to come. But for starters, I just want to say right now, if you’re sensitive to content that involves death, sadness, and overall loss, I recommend you leave whatever you’re reading this on (since everyone is so tech savvy), and never come back to it. Unless you’re really ready to get messed up. Then keep reading, I’m curious to see how much you can really take, and how much it’ll take before you even become fearful of your own life. With that, let’s jump in my friends, I’m praying for you all.