Prologue
I was drawn towards the edge of the cliff, feeling numb.
Careless, even.
I was completely unaware of the danger I was about to face.
My feet moved forward sluggishly, helpless against the pull emanating from the pit of my stomach. The words of caution from the voice deep inside of me swept over my head without a care in the world. It left me feeling hollow and empty, unable to find the will to stop myself; to stop my feet from taking any more steps forward.
Yet, I glided nearer and nearer to the edge, drifting across the dirt like a ghost.
My body came to a sudden halt at the tip of the ledge, toes peeking over the lip. I should be scared, there's a thousand foot drop beneath me. But I was at ease, completely relaxed.
Somewhere under the ledge I stood on, a storm was brewing. It held an unrelenting strength that transformed the once-still sea into a wall of brutally irate saltwater- each wave hitting the cliff face with more and more power in each destructive blow.
And I didn't care.
I was waiting, for what I didn't know.
The ground began to crumble; my time was being cut short.
Finally, my eyes focused on it.
But, by then, the ledge was collapsing beneath my feet.
YOU ARE READING
Drawn (CURRENTLY REWRITING)
General FictionAimee Brooke is perfect. She is a seventeen year old with a drop-dead-gorgeous figure and enviously beautiful features. Her true personality has the most caring, selfless and gentle qualities one that you will ever come across and people are, almost...
