Love me crazy ( Jenlisa ) ( GIP )

1

                            PROLOGUE

.. JENNIE ..

Sitting in the cushioned chair on the patio, I swing my legs back and forth while I drink my juice box. My grandma sits in her wheelchair right across from me. Her dark hair mostly turned gray and falling down her shoulders, she wears a loose dress along with lots of necklaces and bracelets. She's always so colorful. She's my best friend. She lives with us, and I spend a lot of my time with her.

"How come you're not playing with your guests?" Grandma asks, her hand gripping her cane.

My brows furrow thinking about the people my parents invited over. My mother encouraged me to play with their daughter Nayeon and ask her questions about her parents. Are they moving? What does her dad do for a job? Basically anything my parents can use to learn about her parents. My mom and dad are probably trying to buy something her parents are after too.

I'd try to be Nayeon's friend, but she's really mean. Doesn't matter if she was nice though, I will soon move and have a new school and a new child my age to ask twenty questions.

Tonight though, I don't want to play this game with my parents. So, I'm hiding out here with Grandma. We do everything together. She taught me yoga, a rain dance, how to draw my feelings, and pretty much everything I know. She would know better than anyone when I'm upset.

"I just don't want to," I answer. Pulling my leg up, I rub at the scar around my ankle Nayeon called ugly. She also said my outfit was ugly. I pull at the denim jacket hugging my brown polka dotted dress. Grandma bought it for me. I love it.

"Oh man, what an ugly scar, it looks like someone tied a dog leash around your foot!" she laughed.

I crossed my legs to try and keep it hidden. "Oh you can't hide that, I hope you don't want to be a model or anything, because that," she points at my ankle, "will never get you in the door." She flips her hair, her chin high in the air. "My mother says I'm one of a kind, I don't have any flaws."

"You don't like it?" Grandma interrupts my flashback, and my head snaps up. I sigh, running the pad of my finger over the scar.

"It's ugly," I whisper. Mom said it's from the plastic bracelet they put on you when you're born in the hospital. They had mine way too tight and it cut into my soft baby skin, leaving a scar behind. Dad says I was born with it. I don't know what to believe.

It's odd looking. Like a string wrapped around my ankle too tight, but not one of those hospital plastic bands.

"It reminds me of a story I was once told, you know," Grandma says, lifting her chin. Climbing out of my chair I run to her and fold myself into her lap. I love her stories.

"Legend has it, that there is an imaginary string around our ankle, and it's tied to our soulmate somewhere here on earth. Nothing can break this string—"

"Is it magic?" I ask with wide eyes, falling deep into the story.

"Oh very." She nods, holding her index finger up to make a point. "The story told to me was that a little boy was walking home one day and saw a man sitting and reading. When he asked the older man what he was reading, he said it was a book about marriage. He opened the book and showed the child a picture of a beautiful woman, and said 'You will marry this girl one day.' The snobby boy didn't like the idea of marriage and threw a rock at the picture of the girl, and ran. Many, many, years later when he was set to marry a woman from his village, she revealed herself the day they were to be married and she had a scar on her face. He asked her where it came from and the girl said a boy threw a rock at her when she was a kid."