A/N: Why, hello!
We have passed one hundered reads! Holy mother of God, this is just awesome. I literally cannot give you all enough thanks. Remember: If you follow this story or my profile, then you get updated for this book if you like it enough for that. If not, I try to post every weekend or off day of school and edit during the week.
This chapter is my favorite so far as a freak ton of shit goes down. You're probably going to hate me at the end, but I'll try to upload the next chapter either tomorrow or Sunday.
As always, thank you so much for reading!
My feet trace into the dirt with no distinguishable illustration in mind. The red and dry soil mounds around the ends, individual particles avalanching down from its perch. The day is hot with blessed frequent breezes blowing across the vegetable fields. Cars pass by in low frequencies.
I look up and around. I am completely alone, something that I’ve always liked to be. The breeze rustles my grey jacket and hair as the sun bakes my scalp. That’s when I notice my companion.
Brenton had crossed the highway road without my noticing. When he sees that I’ve realized his presence, he smiles. My lips tug up on one side in recognition. He walks to me with hands in his purple jacket’s pockets and sits next to me on the wooden bus stop seat.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I return.
“I saw you walk by my house, but I just woke up and was half naked so it took me a bit to get out here.”
“I’ve been out here for an hour.”
“It takes time to make perfection.” I laugh.
“Are you calling yourself perfect?”
“I may have been implying it, yes.” He takes his hands out of his pockets and kneads his knuckles. “No design today, huh?”
I look down at the scrambled and jagged lines in the dirt. “No. Just distracted today, I guess.”
“Wassup?” He says, turning full attention towards me.
“Nothing, really. Well, I did just finish a book of mine and my favorite character died and I don’t think I can deal now.”
“Don’t even get me started on that torture,” he shivers. “It’s the worst kind.”
“And I’m just recovering. It’s horrible.”
His look is sincerely sympathetic. “We’ve all been there.” He motions his hands in front of him. “Now, tell the group your name and how long you’ve been dealing with your problem.”
I shove his shoulder. “This isn’t an AA meeting for avid readers.”
“Yes, it is. An AR meeting, it should be called. And it only has you and me, since we are the only people in the world our age that actually knows how to read.”
“You have just spoken the gospel.”
“Honey, Jewish Jesus wishes he had these beautiful locks,” he says, threading his fingers through his hair. Strands stand erect and I see his forehead for the first time. I laugh at his humorous image. Seeing the direction of my stare, he quickly fixes his hair. I laugh at his hurry.
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Black Eyed (Original)
Paranormal[1st draft of the Black Eyed series. Permanently retired] Willow's life has never been the personification of 'normal,' and recent events just seem to keep proving that. She's never had loving parents or a friend to talk to, but when a new family...
