To other people, I probably looked like a random girl with fire instead of hair, roaming again around the beach. The darkness enclosing her, A cigarette hanging out of her mouth as she lights it with a match, lit on the side of her boot. Her black mini skirt and tank top concealed her pistol. The bandages on her wrist hardly covering her cut marks. Why did I have to do it again she thought.
YOU ARE READING
The Living dead
Paranormalwhat happens when a gang leader meets a bad boy ready to find out what awaits her.
