Chapter 1- Vulnerable

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Hi there, my fellow humans! How are you? Great! Anyways, I'd like to make a quick disclaimer for this story. Here it is.

Everything in this story is completely and absolutely fictional. It's all made up. None of the characters or the plot was based off of anyone or anything. All is from my brain. This is my disclaimer.

There it is. I will apologize in advance for any mistakes and stuff. I try, but mistakes are hard to find. Anyways, if you like this story, please, please, feel free to vote, comment, and all that good stuff. Thank you!  Have a great day! Be the best.

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Remember when everything was simple and you could fall asleep with absolutely no worries whatsoever?

Do you ever miss those days of sunshine? Absolutly!

When I close my eyes, I feel the day's emotions build up. I feel them right in the depths of my heart.

My heart has to carry all my fears, worries, and miseries. It's always so heavy that I often find myself wondering if there is room for anything else.

The heart is supposed to hold the essence of a person, yet it is the most vulnerable of all.

The heart has no way to protect itself and no way of seeing when a blow is coming.

Forced to be in charge of all feelings, my heart can only hope that the hurt will never come. But of course, the pain always comes when it is least expected, and I never have a choice but to allow my heart to accept it.

The heart is just vulnerable. I wish my heart wasn't necessary to exist.

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When I was born, my mom insisted that I would be given the name Ashley, Ashley Crocker. I always loved my name. It was the one thing my mother gave me that wasn't breakable.

I didn't know my mother very well. Well, I didn't know her as well as I would have liked.

Her heart failed her when I was five. Although my father tried his best and the ambulance did come, it was just too late for her heart. It had beat for the last time.

My mother's death was harder on my dad than it was for me. I was just a kid. However, my father pledged never to let what had happened to my mother happen again. At the time, I didn't know what he meant by that.

As a child, I was always ill. I would lithlessly lay on the couch just feeling tired. I never had any energy; when I stood up, I felt faint. My body always felt exhausted. It worried my father, but I was just a kid so I was unconcerned.

 One day, when I was eight, I fainted. I was walking out of the school, holding my dad's hand. My father had come to take me home because I felt light headed during one of my classes, but then suddenly all I knew was black.

 When I awoke, I found myself lying on the sidewalk outside of my school. I concluded that I had not been out long.

However, to my father it felt like a repeat of what had occurred with my mother. It must have scared him. I remember he picked me up and silently speed off to the hospital.

I had a hole in my heart. That is what the doctor told my father.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. A simple surgery should have cured me. But apparently my heart had been like that for years, which explained why I always felt weak. And apparently my heart was too weak to operate on because it didn't have enough blood. I had had a hole in my heart for so long, and it had just gone unnoticed for far too much time.

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