After a long day of classes, I return home and climb upstairs and after a change of clothes find myself on top of the covers of my bed and ready to sleep. Taking in the lectures of three classes, the one that would not find its way out of my head was that of my local social justice class.
"Birchshire is doomed." My professor said.
Having spent all 19 years of my life in the same place, I have developed a great love for my city and helping others. It is my dream to one day be able to return Birchshire to its former self, back when everyone cared about each other and took pride in what they did and owned, instead of letting their surroundings go to waste and make themselves blind to everything by the use of drugs.
Glancing over the side of my bed I am sidetracked by the glimpse of my 5'6" frame which is only being concealed by a white sports bra and black pair of spandex in the mirror on my wall. My tummy sticks out maybe an inch at most past the top of my navel. It makes me feel insecure to see this, but it seems that almost everyone has it, regardless of their physical shape. Like most people, I have to work very hard to maintain my figure, although I do not make that my top priority. My thighs are a little bigger than the average girls, but that is because of how wide my hips are, and I cannot complain about how this makes my ass look. Although my C cup breasts aren't the biggest, I constantly remind myself "You can't win 'em all Megan." My blonde hair goes about three inches past my shoulders, and my brown eyes are the most striking feature of my face. This is due to the fact that I do not wear any makeup ever. People think it's because I am just naturally beautiful, honestly I am just too damn lazy.
"Maybe I should try to wear makeup?" I say to myself before my thoughts are interrupted by my phone vibrating on my bed.
A text from my boyfriend Ethan of 2 years that reads: 'Hey babe, how was school today?'
Ethan is such an amazing guy. He shares the same passion as me when it comes to helping others, and he stole my heart by being such a caring yet good looking male despite being a popular star athlete in high school. At 5'9" he was the perfect size for me and it did not hinder his ability to succeed on the ice as a member of our school's hockey team.
I am honest and tell him about the lecture today and how frusturated I am with the fact that I am so helpless when it comes to making a differene in Birchshire. We had often talked about this and the conversation always comes to the same frusturating and helpless end.
He ends the conversation asking if I want to meet him by the Lake Claire to just relax and look up at the stars for a while. I agree and drive about ten minutes to meet him there.
Giving me a big hug, we sit down on a park bench near the rocks and hold hands. He looks at me, then back at the stars and I ask "Babe, do you think we will ever really be able to fix all of this?"
Immediately after saying this, a shooting star streaks across the sky. I see this and smile wide, then glance back at him and reply "I sure hope so," and close my eyes for a moment. "I sure hope so."
I notice a tingling in both my chest and stomach, not like the one I get from lovey dovey moments. No, slightly different. What could it be?
Then, it started.