Sometimes, there are events that happen in our lives that we can overlook and forget. Sometimes, there's is an event where it's impossible to do just that because the consequences of that one time stare us in the face every single day. I'm a victim of one of those fair and few times, and it's getting harder and harder to mosey on through my life. I needed solace. I needed motivation. I found a source for both of those things in an unlikely, repugnant place. And now I've paid the price. This is my story.

I woke this morning feeling like I haven't actually been awake for a long time. When I looked into the mirror, I couldn't recognize my reflection, nor recall anything about myself. The only reason I know my name's Mara is that it's the name tattooed along my pinkie. What the hell? And there's this voice in my head that isn't my conscience, trying to tell me what to do and how to act. The worse part: I want to submit to its commands in spite of the growing suspicion that, if I do, I'll be made a puppet.

dear oliver: there's something i have to tell you. lilly. [ 11 | 30 | 14 - #146 Teen Fiction ] [ © jude rigor two-thousand-&-fourteen ]