Lost-identity Stories

She thought she was the victim. But what if she was never Allie...but Claire all along? Bullied, broken, and abandoned, she lived as Allie, the poor, fatherless girl nobody wanted. A girl who was mocked, bruised, and betrayed. Especially by Claire, her rich, perfect best friend who turned out to be her worst enemy. Or so she believed.

This is just a side story of a thing I made in a free write during English the other day so I thought might as well Alisan a young 15 year girl has begun a new life from her drug addict foster parents into warm loving arms but then she went missing for almost a whole year what will happen to Alisan will she be saved or will she be gone forever Hope you guys enjoy my marvel book because I had the idea in school and decided to type it down.

She is the girl who wasn't. This is the story of the girl who survive abuse, loss, and loss of identity. This is the true story of a girl who lost who she was and how she lost herself. The question is can she find herself? Or will the abuse and pain built up through the years cause her to let go? This is the first of a few short stories.

After fleeing from a desolate town a young woman's battle continues with the emergence of a past lover, alongside the budding of a new relationship. However, dangerous family ties further conflict with her dream of a fresh start. Can the past be overridden by the present, if so what remains of the future? ~~~~~~ And so we sat on the worn, brown couch in my living room, a soft dripping of the kitchen sink was all that could be heard in our echoing silence. I felt his gaze shamelessly roam along my body as I gazed down at my fingers, twiddling my thumbs in a desperate attempt not to steal a sideways glance at him. A slow uncontrollable blush spread across my pale cheeks, the only sign of my lawless thoughts. My restless hands moved downwards to the edge of my running shorts, and slowly began to play with the frayed hem. The rush of his breath was the only giveaway that he noticed my actions. His tan arms remain folded as the line of my shorts moves higher and higher, revealing the tender skin. A torn sigh resounds as his muscular hand shot out to dissuade any further progress. However, his hand still covers my fingers and thigh, and a fiery heat spreads towards my core. H was waiting for me to make the move. Suddenly, the small space between us felt way too large. An uncharacteristic boldness took control as I slid onto his lap, straddling his boxer clad legs. I weave my hands through his silky hair and he draws a shaky breath. Slowly, he leans towards me going in for the kiss, but I look down nuzzling my lips against the stubble of his neck. He raises his hands towards my hips, I chuckle and bring them down, containing one under each knee. "You're killing me," he exasperatedly groans while shifting underneath me. He unconsciously bites his lip while deliberating his next move...