Marco Polo (On Hold)

Chapter 1

A/N: So here's chapter 1. I hope you like it and blah blah blah...

You guys HAVE to check out She's Bad News, by Bright_as_night. It's a great story, like the second best romance story here on wattpad, first in my opinion is The Kissing Booth. But if Bright_as_night keeps on writing the glorious chapters, I think it might just beat The Kissing Booth, seriously, that's just how good this story is.

Chapter 1

In one week it's the anniversary of Leslie's disappearance. It's been 11 years and we all still get together on that day, on that hour and light candles around the pool, each person sitting behind one and having an hour to think about Leslie.

We all miss her, we all want to know what's happened to her, and we all want to know where she is. But of course we won't be able to find the answers to these questions. We've had police raid the state for any clues, but there was nothing. Of course they could have raided the whole country, but we thought that would take to much of there time, after all they have other jobs to take care of. Every now and then, my family and I go to different places in different states, just to see if there is any clues. We've done that for eleven years.

But of course, we've found nothing. It was like Leslie just disappeared out of thin air.

What haunts me the most is the fact that there hasn't been contact going on between Leslie and I. There's no clues to where she could have disappeared, she could be dead for all we know. Someone could of kidnapped her, strangled or drowned her to death, and could have buried her twenty feet underground. For all we know, we could be standing on her grave, but that's highly doubtful. She could even be alive right now, seventeen and smoking weed.

Leslie was never that type of girl, she's that innocent person that cares for animals and "awe's" at the cutest things. I could never imagine her wearing ripped jeans, a tank top and leather jacket, knee high studded booked and smoky eye shadow. I can only imagine her wearing sun dresses or pink clothes, flats, lip gloss and bright eye shadow, and hair done up in neat pretty ways with bows holding it together. But she was six when she wore those stuff, some people change and some people don't.

I've changed, I used to wear sundresses, now I wear short shorts and skinny jeans. I started to change once Leslie was gone, I went into depression. People don't talk to me, they know I'm going to backfire some sarcastic remark. If someone does say a word to me, I glare at them until they disappear. I'm supposedly the 'bad girl' of the school. Rumors say I smoke drugs like marijuana, and if I'm not smoking I'm stealing, graffiti, or sometimes murder. Of course these rumors are fake, except the graffiti part and the drug part, I do smoke shit, but I only do when I need to, I'm not addicted like some of these scumbags.

My hair has grown, two years after Leslie died, I got it cut up to my shoulders, but I grew it out. Now it's down to my butt, it gets super annoying sometimes, so I usually wear it in a pony tail or a bun. My eyes have changed color. They used to be chocolate brown, now their brown, blue, green and hazel, they turn brown, gold and hazel with a tint of silver when I'm angry, which is all the time.

I'm very tall, 5"9, and very slender. My Mom tries to get me into modeling, which is my dream, but I'm not doing anything until I get my best friend back. I got my stubbornness from my Dad.

"Winter, can you go get some candles from the store?" Mom asks.

I glare at her. "You get it yourself, lazy ass," I yell at her.

"Don't you talk to me like that!" she demands.

"Whatever," I mutter then walk off into my bedroom.

Flicking the light on, I see my dark bedroom. The carpet was black and the walls were dark purple, the roof black, and my bed black and purple. On my dark brown set of drawers, was packets off drugs and sticks of marijuana. A cigarette lighter lay next to all that junk.