Isolated // H.S {ON HOLD}

*Prologue*

//A.N:

The main character; Violet, i think would perfectly be played by Willow Shileds since shes pretty innocent yet can be pretty brave and bad-ass at times:) Thieres a picture of Willow Shields on the side or on top depending what youre reading this on.

Happy reading and may the fanfic be ever in your favour...

Wow that was lame:( oh well high five for lme jokes!

*Prologue*

We had just walked out of wal-mart in downtown Portland. The fully lit store windows, were at our backs as we waited to cross the street.  The traffic was light. I remember it was cold. Cold enough that I should've been wearing more than just a tee-shirt and shorts. The sky was gray and clear, and the sun was moving quickly toward the horizon. There were not many pedestrians, so the young, homeless, begger sitting on the side of the footpath was hard to ignore. He looked no older than 20 and had long brown hair which covered most of his eyes. He looked as if he hadn't showered or washed for days. Maybe even weeks. As a matter of fact, he probably hadn't.

He didn’t seem to notice as we walked by. I was on my mother’s right, my little sister on her left, holding her hand. We had been shopping, and I carried a couple of little bags. I was a teenager, but just barely, with blond hair and blue eyes. 

As we walked, I remember glancing at my mother. She was very pretty. I liked being with her. She was one of my best friends.

Portland was not “a dangerous place, and I had the luxury of growing up with a mother who was open and unassuming. Her demeanor was friendly yet careful.

Standing by the beggar, waiting to cross the street, I looked and made eye contact with him; his eyes were green. As green as a tropical forest. When he looked in your direction you could tell that he not only saw your body but also your soul. 

 My brothers had asked my mom if we had any work for him.

Mom glanced at him warily, not wanting to stare. I don’t remember a lot about him, but I do recall that he seemed sane. No singing or talking about prophets, or visions or being the Chosen One. All of that would come "@ later. For now, he appeared to be nothing more than a normal guy who had hit a rough patch in his life. He certainly didn’t seem to be dangerous or threatening.

My mother walked toward him, five dollars in her hand.

 I held back, my hair blowing in the autumn wind.

He glanced in my direction, seeming to take me in from the corner of his eye. I gave him a quick smile. I felt sorry for him and was happy when my mother handed him the money.

What I didn’t know―but would later learn―was that he had been watching me very carefully as we walked toward him. He had taken the opportunity to study me further as my mother searched through her purse. He remembered everything about me: the clothes that I was wearing, my blond hair, the way I looked up at my mother, the color of my eyes.

And though he was very careful not to show it, he decided at that moment that I was the one.

Another A.N:

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ill love you forever;)

you know you want to........

XOX Georgia:)