What Doesn't Kill You...

Prologue

"Mom! Mom! Mom! Please please pretty please!"

"Alexsa! I told you, that book is about war. I'm sorry honey, you're too young."

"But mom! I'm seven now! I'm old enough!"

Realizing her daughter was not going to be lenient, Beatrice let her daughter have the book. She was proud her daughter was reading so much at a young age, but a historic war novel?

"Alright honey, go tell Mrs. Henderson you want that one."

"Ok mommy!"

That child was going to be the dear of her.

****

"Alexsa, go get in the car, I'll put the books in the trunk and be right in." I did as my mom commanded.

I hopped into the car, and put my seatbelt on. I stared wonderingly at the little ripples the Malibu summer heat was making in the distance. My mother then walked out in front of the car, right as a blue convertible came speeding around the corner. I screamed at the top of my lungs as I witnessed my mother's skinny body being squished between the front of both cars.

****

"Dear, I know you are very hurt and sad right now, but I need you to tell me what you saw." The cop said to my daughter.

My wife had just been killed, and she was the only eye whitness. She wouldn't speak though. She was just sitting in the car, clinging to a large volume, silently crying. I felt like screaming at her. Her memories were a key component to finding the driver of the car. But I resisted the urge. This was not the time to yell at her.

The rest of the day was a blurr. I dropped Alexsa off at her best friends house with stuff to stay the night. I needed time alone, to drown my sorrows in alcohol.

****

My father left me at Hunter's house. Not that I was complaining, he was my best friend, but my dad left me to go to the bar. Even though I was seven, I've seen him hit my mother before. He doesn't care for me as a father should, and it hurt.

At the moment, I was wrapped in Hunter's arms, eating ice cream and watching sponge Bob. Soon, my other best friend, Anna showed up, she was staying over too.

****

I, Alexsa Lena Martin, age 14, to this day, have never read the book I begged my mother to get me. Nor have I ever read a history novel again. I read mysteries, murder mysteries, where they caught the bad guys, unlike my mothers. 8 years later, and the driver of the blue convertible has not been found.

****

Hello readers,

This is my second book on Wattpad, and I hope isn't my last. My previous book, Different Experiment, has been put on hold for a short amount of time for editing and fixing of logic breaks before continuing. Please vote, comment, and follow.

Also, the original cover picture for this book (before the editing) is a picture of one of my best friends, and was taken by my other friend. I will not mention their names for their own privacy.

Sincerely, Emma