Intro
In my world, everyone is born with a timer already implanted on their wrists. No one knows how or why we’re born with it: all we know is that it counts down to the moment you meet your soulmate. It took ages for people to reach this conclusion and still, it has been at the peak of human curiosity for as long as I could remember. The Timer has inspired a generous amount of literature (including many famous ones) and even more conspiracy theories than the universal question of life itself. Some say that the “Almighty Timer” had indirectly influenced various historical deaths, contrary to the long held belief that it leads to your “happy ending.”
For instance, when President J.F Kennedy arrived in Dallas, Texas for his “political campaign” …show more content…
The reality lies within the day my mother died.
I don’t want to go into too much into detail; the point is, love can get you killed. Witnessing (and living through) the profound effects of my mother’s death put my timer under harsher lights, further repulsing me from the very idea of meeting my own “perfect” match. So then, as a little girl, I took the dilemma into my own small hands and vowed that I, Eres will never fall in …show more content…
Look, soulmate or not, can you just get out of my way?? Unless you’re going to say something that my life depends on, you might as well stop my wasting my time!”
Well, so much for making a good first impression.
Eres
THIS! IS! DESPICABLY! OUTRAGEOUS! How DARE that stupid little nuisance of a timer interrupt my lovely day?
Everything was fine, everything was going so well, but nope! Fate just had to nosily jab its way right in the middle of trouble, stirring up disorder and chaos.
My boiling temper was screaming for attention, fighting against me as it desperately flailed to force its way out of my mouth. My own demons were itching to pounce.
I refuse to fall into this trap. I do not want to fall in love! “I’m sorry,” he apologized.
He kept staring at me. An awkward silence hung; the light hum of the incomprehensible chatter of the crowd were strangely calming my nerves.
The boy then reached out his hand, expecting me to grab hold, but I refused, choosing to ignore the gesture, and walked into any random direction—anywhere else BUT towards him—to avoid any more commotion. I was already aggravated, so why should I add more trouble? So much for a first impression!
Besides, I don’t need him. I’m better off without
In my world, everyone is born with a timer already implanted on their wrists. No one knows how or why we’re born with it: all we know is that it counts down to the moment you meet your soulmate. It took ages for people to reach this conclusion and still, it has been at the peak of human curiosity for as long as I could remember. The Timer has inspired a generous amount of literature (including many famous ones) and even more conspiracy theories than the universal question of life itself. Some say that the “Almighty Timer” had indirectly influenced various historical deaths, contrary to the long held belief that it leads to your “happy ending.”
For instance, when President J.F Kennedy arrived in Dallas, Texas for his “political campaign” …show more content…
The reality lies within the day my mother died.
I don’t want to go into too much into detail; the point is, love can get you killed. Witnessing (and living through) the profound effects of my mother’s death put my timer under harsher lights, further repulsing me from the very idea of meeting my own “perfect” match. So then, as a little girl, I took the dilemma into my own small hands and vowed that I, Eres will never fall in …show more content…
Look, soulmate or not, can you just get out of my way?? Unless you’re going to say something that my life depends on, you might as well stop my wasting my time!”
Well, so much for making a good first impression.
Eres
THIS! IS! DESPICABLY! OUTRAGEOUS! How DARE that stupid little nuisance of a timer interrupt my lovely day?
Everything was fine, everything was going so well, but nope! Fate just had to nosily jab its way right in the middle of trouble, stirring up disorder and chaos.
My boiling temper was screaming for attention, fighting against me as it desperately flailed to force its way out of my mouth. My own demons were itching to pounce.
I refuse to fall into this trap. I do not want to fall in love! “I’m sorry,” he apologized.
He kept staring at me. An awkward silence hung; the light hum of the incomprehensible chatter of the crowd were strangely calming my nerves.
The boy then reached out his hand, expecting me to grab hold, but I refused, choosing to ignore the gesture, and walked into any random direction—anywhere else BUT towards him—to avoid any more commotion. I was already aggravated, so why should I add more trouble? So much for a first impression!
Besides, I don’t need him. I’m better off without