36,500 days. That’s equivalent to 100 years. That’s how long I have to live. It may seem like a long time, but for me, it’s not. My aunt who’s been involved with witchcraft since she was my age casted a spell on me when I was six. She considered it a sin for my mother to have gotten pregnant at the age of 16. Except, she’s the one who’s involved with witchcraft, I don’t really understand her logic.

Every time a tear forms in my eye, I lose a day.

8, 947. That’s how many days I have left. How do I know how many tears I’ve cried? I have a tattoo on my left hip that works as a countdown. The number goes down every time I shed a tear.

I’m a very sensitive person, so I can’t help the fact that I cry about everything.


“Avery!”

“Ungh . . .” I flutter my eyes open.

“Avery, get up!” I rub the sleep out of my eyes as I sit up.

“Morgan, how did you get into my house?”

“Your mom let me in. We’re gonna be late for school, c’mon! I left my car running outside, so hurry up!” Morgan throws a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans from out of closet at my face.

Normally, I wouldn’t let anyone else treat me that way, but Morgan and I have been friends since kindergarten, so she can get away with it. Her and I are actually polar opposites. She’s has gorgeous tan skin, bleach-blonde hair. She has big, brown eyes and small freckles on her cheeks. Average height, perfect figure, small and dainty hands, but it’s not just her physical appearance. She has a good soul. That sounds cliche, but she’s the greatest, purest person I’ve ever met. She always does as she’s told, she has perfect grades, she’s never been rude to anybody unless it’s necessary. Sure, she’s rude to me, but as I said, she’s allowed to. She literally gets along with everybody. She doesn’t judge anyone by their appearance, which is what I love most about her. She only tries to see the good in people.

I slip on the clothes given to me, not really caring about my appearance. I put my hair up into a messy bun, grab my bag and rush out the door.

“It’s about time. Here, I got you coffee,” Morgan shoves a tall, nonfat latte into my hand.

“Thanks,” I mumble into the coffee lid before taking a small sip, careful to not burn my tongue.

“How many days?”

“Morgan . . .” I sigh.

“I know you don’t like talking about it, but as your best friend, I have a right to know.

“Well,” I lift up the bottom of my shirt to reveal my tattoo, “9, 947 days.” There’s nothing but silence in response. “Are you gonna say something?” I look over at Morgan.

“Oh, right, sorry. I’m just silently freaking out.” She tightens her grip on the steering wheel.

“Why? I’m not.”

“No crying. Not one tear, okay?” Morgan’s brown eyes meet my blue ones. I nod my head.

“Good,” Morgan nods her head as we pull into the parking lot.

“Okay, sure, whatever.” I groan. I begin to open the car door, but Morgan stops me. “What?”

“Tomorrow’s your three-year anniversary, isn’t it?” Morgan snickers as she gets out of the car.
“It is? Yikes, I didn’t get him anything.” I bite down on my lip and shrug. “I’ll get him something tonight.” I get out of the car.
“Speak of the devil!” Morgan points her finger at someone on the other side of the parking lot. “I found your boyfriend, c’mon.” She grabs onto my hand and drags me over to Evan.

His tall, slender figure casts a long shadow on the asphalt. His jet black hair is always askew, but he still manages to look perfect. His green eyes could hypnotize anybody with just a single glance. He’s not the brightest crayon in the box, but his personality is really what gets me. He’s intimidating because of his harsh personality, but he’s really just a big teddy bear. He happens to be one of the most loyal friends anyone could ask for. We met in the beginning of eighth grade and started dating the beginning of freshman year. We just kind of clicked and it’s been that way since. I put his needs before my own. If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.
“Hey, babe.” I leisurely wrap my arm around his neck. I peck him on the cheek, but he remains still. “Is something wrong?”
“What?” Evan asks, staring off into the distance. “Oh! No, everything’s fine. Hey.” He gives me a small kiss on the lips.
“Guess what tomorrow is?” I feel my cheeks heat up.
“Um, Tuesday?” He squints his eyes at me. My heart sinks to my knees.
“Our third year anniversary . . .” I try to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“Oh, please, you forgot about it, too!” Morgan butts in.
“Let’s get to class,” Evan suggests. The three of us head into the school.


After school, I have Morgan drop me off at the mall, so I can get a gift for Evan. I roam around the mall for a while, weaving in and out of stores, seeing something he’s mentioned that he likes until I check the price tag and decide he doesn’t like it anymore.

I sit down on the bench and check the time on my phone.


5:41



“Three hours and I still have found nothing?” I drop my head into my hands and let out an annoyed sigh. “Why can’t I just get you a bag of Skittles and be done with it?” I gather my purse into my hands and rise to my feet. I look up at the display case in front of me and freeze. My gaze falls on a studded leather jacket. I admire the spikes on the shoulders and the chains along the bottom. I remember Evan talking about how badly he wanted it.

Don’t even bother, it’s too expensive.

My feet disobey my thoughts as they take a few steps closer. I admire the jacket once more before sprinting into the store. I find the leather jacket on a rack and grab his size. I close my eyes as I grasp onto the price tag, take a deep breath, open my eyes, and look at the tag.


$459.99



I curse under my breath and put the jacket back. I start walking out of the store, but stop myself. “You know what? Screw it.” I turn back, grab the jacket, and march right to the checkout line. Sure, I’m spending all of my savings, but Evan’s worth it. A single tear falls from my eye as I hand the cashier my money. 9,946. Well, darn.


The following morning, I get up early, so I have enough time to put effort into my appearance. I curl my hair, take time to do a good job on my makeup, and I decide to wear my studded dress to match with Evan. Just as I slip on my combat boots, I hear Morgan honking at me. I grab my bag and Evan’s present before heading out the door.

“Three years, Avery! I’m so happy for you guys!” Morgan greets me with a huge smile.

“Thanks so much.” I giggle. “I decided to waste all of my savings on a leather jacket.” I cringe. “He really wanted it, so it’s okay.”

“Normally, I would be absolutely furious, but three years is a pretty big deal, so I’ll let it slide. Did you cry at all last night?”

“Literally one single tear when I was giving the cashier my money.” Morgan just rolls her eyes and turns the radio up.



“Hey, Avery . . .” Evan greets us at the school lobby.

“Happy three year, baby!” I squeal as I hand him his present. A small smile forms on his lips as his opens the bag.

“Oh my god, Avery.” His eyes widen. “I can’t accept this.” He throws the jacket back into the bag and hands it back to me.

“Don’t be silly. Keep it, seriously.” I smile at him.

“I really, really can’t. I’m sorry, here’s your gift, I have to go.” Evan turns away and rushes down the hallway. I open the small box to reveal a silver charm bracelet, except, there are no charms. I put the bracelet on, anyway, and try to shrug it off.

“Um, what the heck?” Morgan looks at me. I just shake my head and storm off down the hallway to my first hour class.


“Avery Montgomery?” I awaken with a heavy slam of my head on the desk.

“Huh?” I lift my head up, looking around the classroom.

“Miss Montgomery, this is the eighth time you’ve fallen asleep in my class this month. I understand that it is the last hour of the day, but this is unacceptable.” Mr. Weiss glares at me, tapping a dry erase marker against his desk.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to. I really have just been lacking sleep, and I-,”

“I’m sure the principal would love to hear your excuse.” I nod my head in agreement and take the walk of shame to the front of the classroom.

“Thanks.” I saunter into the hallway. I’m halfway to the principal’s office when I hand grabs me from behind.

“Don’t scream!” Evan. I recognize his voice immediately.

“Hey, you.” I smile at him brightly.

“Avery, we need to talk,” Evan says quietly. I nod my head. “You know I love you, Avery. I would take a bullet for you, you know that. Although, I do think that my feelings for you have changed. I honestly just think of you as a sister, now.”

“What are you trying to say?” I snap.

“I . . . I think we need to break up.” His words feel like a knife to the heart.

“No-,” I begin to speak, but he cuts me off.

“Don’t try to change my mind. Avery, I’m so sorry, it’s not you-,”

“Shut up. I am done talking to you.” Tears begin to form in my eyes. “Happy freaking Anniversary, Evan.” I throw his present on the floor and bound down the hallway. Tears begin to fall from my eyes, but I keep running. I run passed the secretary lady, passed the front entrance, passed the parking lot and keep running until I get home. I race to my room and throw myself in front of my dresser.

“Avery, no, no, stop crying.” I lift up my dress with shaky hands and look down at the number.

9,001.

“No, Avery, stop!” I scream at myself, watching as the number goes down. When I try to stop crying, I just end up weeping harder.

8,753, 8,752, 8,751.

I look up at the mirror and stare at my reflection. My curly hair now lies limp on my head and my makeup is smudged. I look back down at my tattoo. “No, there’s no way I can cry 8,000 tears. I’ll be fine in a few minutes,” I say with a trembling voice.

By morning, I got down to 4,304. But that wasn’t the end.


After dinner, I head back upstairs to my room and collapse onto my bed. I unlock my phone to show a picture of Evan and me. “Stupid wallpaper.” I click on my photos app and scroll through them. Most of them are of Evan and I. “Avery, stop.” I demand. I keep scrolling until my tears have returned, but I don’t panic. I remain still on my bed, staring at my phone, letting the tears stream down my face. I sit up and look over at my mirror. I watch as each tear falls. I don’t try to stop it. I see my mom rush into my room from the corner of my eye. I don’t look at her, though.

“Avery? Avery, what are you doing? Come on, honey, you have to stop crying.” Her words go in one ear and out the other. “Avery? Oh my god, Todd!” She calls my dad. “Todd, she’s gone into shock. She isn’t responding. Avery, come on! Snap out of it, it’s okay!” I drown out both her and my dad’s screaming. After what seems like hours, I manage to look at my tattoo.


97 . . . 96 . . . 95 . . . 94.



My mother raises my chin with her index finger, bringing my gaze to hers. “Avery, sweety, please. Just, stop.”

“It doesn’t really matter. I’m going to end up crying myself to death in the very near future with only,” I look down at the number, “87 days left. I knew I wouldn’t make it to 30. I just want to die loved. And I know I will. Mom, it’s okay.” I wrap my arms around her. “I love you, okay? So much.”

“Remember how we used to watch Tarzan every night before bed?”

We both look down at the descending number.


“Mom, don’t.” I give her a sad smile.

“Then ‘You’ll Be In My Heart’ would start playing during the movie. I’d sing it to you and you were out in minutes!” She laughs quietly to herself.


75 . . . 74 . . . 73.


“Daddy would come home from work early . . . you’d be in your playroom and he would come in and play with you for hours.” She stares at the ground, a wide smile displayed across her lips. Rather than interrupting her, I just sit and listen. I ignore the plummeting number on my hip and focus on my mom’s words. She looks towards my tattoo, but I cover it up with my hand, and she goes back to talking.

My breath becomes shorter and it begins to feel thin. Mother doesn’t notice, and I’m glad. She’s still going on and on about when I was younger. “I love you, mom,” I whisper quietly before laying back on my bed and closing my eyes.

“And then there was the time at your cousin’s wedding. Oh, you were maybe five? You had just-,” I can hear her cut herself off. I know she’s watching me. With my eyes still closed, I give her a small smile and mouth, “I love you” as the last tear falls.


Goodbye, mom.