New Territory
All Rights Reserved ® Kaylen Johnson
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case a brief quotations embodied in critical arrivals or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1: 7/23/13
I tried to get into my black skinny jeans, which proved to be a hard feat, considering the fact that I was hopping around on leg.
If the neighbors happen to glimpse through the curtainless window, then they would see a girl who closely resembled a beheaded chicken. What a lovely image they would have.
Though, if they did look, then those creeps would be considered a pervert!
After doing a little victory dance for not falling down on my ass, I buttoned my pants and made my way to the mahogany vanity table, which was situated in the corner of my room, next to the matching dresser, to turn on my red flat iron. Knowing that being late for my first day of high school was out of the question, I did my makeup while I waited for it to heat up, just to save time.
My freshly blow dried hair fell over my Ramones t-shirt to my waist in loose, blonde curls. Because I took a shower earlier this morning, my skin was red and blotchy. I had decided to leave it nude because, according to the weather app on my new Razr -and the fact that the dark clouds hovering in the sky looked like they were about to pee- said that there was a 60% chance of rain.
After I was finished with the task of straightening my hair, I shrugged on my leather jacket and made sure that everything was unplugged before going into the bathroom and brushing my teeth.
I made my way down stairs after making sure I had my wallet and phone in my black leather bag, and into the kitchen.
Knowing that I would get hungry later, I grabbed a bunch of breakfast bars and a family sized bag of Ruffles out of the pantry. Stuffing the items into my bag, I walked out of the room and into the hallway conjoining the kitchen, back and front door, and another hall that led to the garage. That was my destination.
Right before I opened the door to the garage, I reached up and grabbed my keys, then stepped through and headed toward my Dodge Charger. The cherry apple red finish of the vehicle gleamed and reflected the image of my black Kawasaki bike and that of my figure, which was growing larger with each step I took.
Opening the driver door, I hopped in and slung my bag into the passenger seat and buckled myself into the seat belt, then started the ignition.
With the help of the motion sensor that I had installed last month, the garage doors opened up automatically, therefore I didn't have to worry about pushing a button on the wall. I pulled the gear shift down into reverse and backed out onto the driveway. Then, checking to make sure that no cars were coming, I continued out onto the road, and put the gear on drive. It took awhile to get used to it, but I finally accomplished driving on the right side of the road, instead of the left.
The trees pass by in a blur as I drove the couple of miles to Dahlea High, while I had not a single care in the world that I was going over the speed limit.
This bitch gave no fucks.
"Gingervitus" was blaring through the speakers by the time I got to the high school, and I was belting out the lyrics along with it, trying to find a parking space.
YOU ARE READING
New Territory
HumorAnasandria Steele's life was perfect until she turned fifteen. That's when it all started fall. Every day after school, she would go home and work out, receive a paper from her father with her next victims name on it, and search and kill. She never...