Looking For Yourself

PROLOGUE

Quite simply, I am confused. There is no other way to put it. My Life has been horrible: my match unfit and cocky, my job long and tedious; Life would be a whole lot more interesting, I might add, if I didn't live smack dab in the middle of the desert.

But I do. And I cannot change that.

I'm only fifteen. I don't see why I have to be told to marry a stranger. I don't see why I was taken away from my parents.

But, of course, they say that confusion will end once I settle into Life.

I hope to God they're right. Because I've never thought more about leaving.

CHAPTER ONE

Sitting bolt upright in my bed, I screamed and went into a cold sweat.

Wesley sat up, slower, more sleepy, and asked in a husky voice that chilled my blood, "What, in god's name, are you screaming about in the middle of the night?"

I gasped and put a hand to my mouth, feeling the warm breath against my clammy hands, slowing my breathing.

"I...had a bad dream. A terrible, terrible dream...." My voice trailed off, and Wesley grunted as he slipped back under the covers in his bed, and positioned himself so he was facing my rattled figure.

"We'll there's no use screaming about it, Liliana." I turned my head towards him questioningly, still unfamiliar with my new name. Wesley seemed to had gotten his new name down very quickly; when I called for him, without a stutter or even a sideways glance he would answer.

"I know, Wesley." I pulled the covers up so they shielded my chest from the cold air that the fan blew around. "And please don't call me that. I like to be called Anna."

He nodded and turned over, now he was facing the window, away from me, him in his bed me in mine, we were worlds apart. Which was fine, even desired by me.

"Anna. Okay, then. Call me Wes, Anna."

I nodded.

I didn't call him Wes. To me, he'd always be Charley. Charley: the boy who killed my brother. Charley: the boy that I am now married to.

-

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Everyone, thank you for almost 30 reads. I'm glad that at least some people are reading my story!

Anyways, please comment and vote! Tell me what you think!

There's going to be a LOT more action/adventure/romance as the story progresses. I'm so sorry that this chapter was RIDICULOUSLY short, and I'll be updating maybe every day this week. Okay? Okay.

Thanks for reading, guys :)

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-

Someone was looking at me.

I didn't know this, but prickles were rising on my spine.

Instinctively, I turned to see a drunk Wesley staring at me.

Bile stained the front of his shirt, and his eyes were loose, unable to concentrate on my face.

"Wesley, what on earth are you doing?" My voice was foggy; I'd spent long hours in the garden trying to take my mind off of my Life. That was hard, and I'd ripped my knee on the stone pathway when falling in frustration.

Wesley didn't seem to notice. I don't know what he thought he was doing.

"Well you are my wife," Wesley slurred his words, and I started trembling. What did he mean?

"Wesley, go take a nap. You're obviously drunk at-" I checked my watch. "Two thirty in the afternoon." I shook my head and walked into the kitchen to get a wash cloth, then threw it at my drunk husband whose odor violated my senses.

"Get out of the house, Wesley. Or go take a shower, sober yourself up."

"Why should I?"

"Because I don't want to deal with you right now." I let my frustration show through my voice, which I only did when he was drunk. He wouldn't remember this tomorrow. Might as well spill.

Wesley passed out on the living room couch in the middle of my sentence. I continued.

"And it feels like I'm being tortured! Monitored, being put in a cage like a bug..." I trailed off. If the audio was on today, they heard all of that.

An official was bound to show up any day now.

'Nice going,' I thought to myself, 'that's the last thing you need, Livy,' I wasn't accustomed to the foreign word Lilianna, and rarely addressed myself as Lilianna.