"A bird can't fly if her wings are broken," he whispers in my ear. I used to think it was cliché to live life going to parties every weekend, getting drunk and waking up next to someone you didn't know. Or thinking you were the "different girl", because you didn't even know your own mother. Meanwhile, plenty of Luther people have their own demons they are battling, and they think they are the different ones. I thought moving to America with my dad was going to be a great thing. I thought I could finally make myself new. But things never really work out for me when I want the to. I tried to avoid him as much as possible. He just gave me some kind of feeling, the feeling I used to get when I was on a roller coaster, or speeding down some back road, or even downing a few shots in a row. He didn't even have to do anything, he just had to look at me. His eyes burnt through me, like he could see every little memory I had hidden away from everyone. It scared me, he scared me. But no matter how hard I tried, he wouldn't leave me alone. I didn't know it then, but we weren't just running into each other by coincidence. He craved knowing what was going through my head, he wanted me to feel weak and pressured, he wanted me to feel small and helpless. But most of all, he wanted to know me. Unfortunately for him, I don't tell everyone my secrets. I don't trust so easily. And I most certainly do not fall for the boy in black clothes.