Pins And Needles {Book Idea}

You ever have that feeling? Pins and needles? I usually got it when one of my limbs go numb from the lack of circulation. I like it and hate it at the same time...like love. You'd like to have it but once you got it you hate it.



I met a man like that. His name was ... let's call him Ichigo. Yeah. Ichigo Nakamura. He had dyed his hair black, making him seem "goth" but he was built like a "jock" and as kind as... as kind as could be.



And I loved him. But I hated the girls he hung out with. The "preppy" type. Stereotypically blond, blue-eyed, pretty, tall, "perfect" girls. Bimbos. [No offense.]



But he was also friends with me. Stereotypically "goth" or "emo" or "freak", whatever you want to call me. Always wearing black. Eyeliner. Dark fingernail polish. Funky, bright [dyed] red hair. Bipolar. Schizophrenic Effective. Oppositional Defiant Disorder. Depressed. Hyper. The usual...



We were BFFs and nothing could change that.



Except for one thing.



Ichigo was killed. And he just so happened to come back to life. Clawed himself out of his own grave.



I had been crying myself to sleep for the eighth day in a row when I heard a tap, tap on my bay window. [My family was loaded, go figure.]



I wiped my nose with a tissue, tossed it to the floor along with about a hundred others and rolled over to investigate the noise. I shrieked a very shrill shriek, hurting the deafest of ears for sure, and just about collapsed onto my sunshine-yellow shag rug.



My parents were out of town and the household maid was off for the weekend, so I was alone...with my undead best friend [literally] forever.



He opened the window and came in, covered in mud and rain water. [It was raining ... very cliche]



After I got over the fact that he was alive [somewhat], i took him to my step brother's room. [Who was in boarding school in London.]



Luckily George, aka step bro, was practically the same size as Ichigo.



But now came the hard part...



What should we do? Call his parents? Call the police? Do nothing? Do something? Run away? Watch a movie? Forget about the accident altogether? WHAT DO WE DO?



These were about one fifth of the questions that were running through my head.



We decided to figure it out in the morning. So I allowed Ichigo to sleep in my king-sized bed with me until the sun broke through my curtains.



I awoke with the feel of cold skin against my size. Ichigo had wrapped his arm around my waist, allowing us to somehow sleep very comfortably.



"Good morning." He croaked.



"I'm glad you're back." I smiled.