Who's To Blame?

Who's To Blame?

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jul 1, 2012
Kylie, with her stunning green eyes and her exotic looks, is extremely outspoken. She speaks her mind, doesn't know how to keep a secret, and is a self-proclaimed tom boy. Not once has she accepted the role society has chosen for her, to be a seen-but-not-heard, sweet and innocent seventeen year old girl. One day, after a fight with a particularly prissy girl, which she'd be glad to say she won, Kylie is sent home. Deciding to save herself some trouble, she cuts through some back alleys and behind a specifically sleazy bar, she witnesses a murder take place. Kylie should've called the police, she should've turned her back and ran, but she didn't. She stood, entranced by a stranger's death, and even more fascinated by the murderer who stood before her. She'd never seen him around her small town where everybody knew everybody, which was a feat in itself. One look at his face assured Kylie that she would have recognized him had she met him before. Sharp cheekbones and steely gray eyes caught her staring, and by then, it was too late. Kylie stood rooted to her spot, too hypnotized to run away, expecting to be killed at any moment. As strange as it was, the murderer didn't leap forward, knife in hand. He didn't turn and run from the scene of the crime. He didn't even try to explain. Instead, he asked Kylie to dinner. Desperate to know who this person was, Kylie agreed, and from there on she found herself sliding down a slippery slope, falling deeper and deeper into an obsession-like state. This person who committed murder like it was nothing, ordered expensive drinks she couldn't pronounce, and who told her stories about life on the run wanted her as company. She couldn't have been any happier. His world was unique, exciting, and so much different from the tongue-in-cheek society she was expected to be a part of. Needless to say, she wanted in.
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" I lunge forward at him hitting his groin with my knee then right between the eyes. As soon as I do, he crashes to the ground, out cold. I go for more, but a pair of arms snatch my waist lifting me up. I kick my legs and flail my arms to get closer but he is too strong. "Let go of me!" I demand. "Shut up." A low strong voice commands."Is he okay?" "He is fine." I grunt. Then the young adult wakes up, then scurries back away from me. "Sorry ma'- miss... " he says, making me angry again. I give him a cold stare. "I'm sorry." He repeats, standing to his feet. "Put. Me. Down." I demand again. With a huff he puts me down. I step forward with full intentions to punch him again but the man behind me takes my arm, holding me back. I jerk forward to get off his grip but he takes my other arm tightly. "Alright! I'm done! I'm done!" I huff in defeat. " This story follows Astrid, a 26 year old female who ran away from home 10 years ago. The only reason she has come back was to get away from the hole she dug her self into. She is running away from her problems again. Life before she ran away wasn't as nice as the public saw it- the sherif's family, happy, and loving. Behind the doors it was orders being barked left and right with no warning or break. Not wanted to deal with this anymore, Astrid ran. On her voyage out, she ran into some trouble that seemed all fine until it wasn't. She comes back home and everything is all fine and dandy until, "Unknown: You thought you could hide forever? I found you, and I can find your friend, Nicole. If you want her safe, you'll be at the ring in an hour." Since Astrid's leave, the town suddenly had a motorcycle gang that hangs around, not realling doing anything in particular, but the sherif doesn't trust them much. Damon being the head of the gang, keeps everything they do quiet. When these two meet up there is obious tention and immediate hatred. ***EDITING TWs: Controling dad, violence, abuse

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