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Untitled chpt. 1

Untitled chpt. 1

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Published by Stephanie LaMonica
Something in her past brings her to this boy and into his life. This is only the beginning. he wants to keep her safe, and she feels complete with him, not wanting to leave his side. Will her attraction to him get in the way of his duty to save her? It's only a job protecting her.
Something in her past brings her to this boy and into his life. This is only the beginning. he wants to keep her safe, and she feels complete with him, not wanting to leave his side. Will her attraction to him get in the way of his duty to save her? It's only a job protecting her.

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Published by: Stephanie LaMonica on Dec 01, 2008
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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09/27/2012

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By Stephanie LaMonica
Chapter 1I woke with the senses of something great going horribly wrong. The sun broke through the clouds with a future outlook of despair. Mytheories are basically myths since they always seem to come out theway least expected. Light filtered into my room through the blinds.Mom must be up already. The sun hit every angle of my room,decimating each shadow with triumph except for one. Maybe it wasthe same for me, each bright spot in my life having its own shadow. Ionly say this because who would be in a good mood after realizingtheir life was merely being tormented for one’s own pleasure? It feltlike it would be turn out to be a hot day in West Sacramento, California.Well for approaching winter anyways. Perfect timing for there to besunshine after a constant rainfall for days on end.I slipped into the warmth of my faux furred boots and stood atmy door to listen for any sounds of movement. Relief washed acrossmy face and I turned my head to the time. 6:54 am. I’m never able tosleep anymore, the constant fear in my dreams and reality isbarricading me into a corner, trapping me like I’m some wild animal. There’s no escaping to anywhere, there’s no safe place for me to hide.Home has lost it’s meaning, and in school I’m unspoken due to myconstant worry. I’m hiding from the fact that it is safest to telleverybody the truth.“Tell them. Today.” The voice inside my head claws and clawsfor a way out to tell a friend, a stranger, anybody. I get stuck on my
 
own words when I finally find courage to brazen out about what hadhappened, about what my scars mean. My voice never came to mewhen I needed it most, and for that I detested myself. Today, I was stronger. I looked in the mirror and stared myself down with fury and rage, hoping to gather an excess amount of energyfor my war of words to be spoken and heard.I didn’t leisure around my room like most days, but quickly ranaround my room for clothes. I grew dizzy from my sudden movementaround the room and I treaded down the stairs to greet my mommaking breakfast. Of course, I dare not to say anything because I maylose the ability to speak the words I’ve been urging myself to speak forthe past week. My stomach hurt. This reminded me with difficulty of the scars on my torso, and the pain of me lying on the groundhelplessly.I snatched the waffles from the toaster as they popped up andsat at the engraved mahogany wooden table.“Hi honey, how are you feeling today?” My mom asked, and Icould tell she was careful not to upset me. I was easily breakable, andshe didn’t want to toy with her most prized possession. She fiddledwith the dishtowel in her hands. I stopped on my breath, quick to thinkof an excuse not to talk.I stuffed part of the waffle into my mouth as if I hadn’t eaten indays. I guess I hadn’t really one way or the other. I made a soundushering I couldn’t talk and lifted the corners of my mouth into a smileto reassure her I was fine. It was a lousy attempt, but it worked. Hershoulders dropped and resumed her position at the sink washing

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