The Lost Soul

The Lost Soul

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing1h 18m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Oct 7, 2020
Stories. Mhh! They're wonderful, a blessing actually. That's what my mom would always say when she tucked me in. She said they are a way to live your life in whatever way you want. A break from reality. And as much as I loved hearing about three little piggys and a huffing and puffing wolf, I was always going for the supernaturals. My Mom didn't seem to understand what a six year old loved so much about men with fangs and red eyes or women who could burn you in a blink of an eye, but she wasn't one to judge. She always let me chase my dreams and my dad would sit on the other side of my bed and smile. But they left. They left and so did my love for stories. I stopped writing the little fictions I used to write. I kinda went into a dark humor mode. I was happy honestly, but still empty. So what happens when all of a sudden everything seems to get interesting. Everything seems to circulate around me. Suddenly two of the most attractive men (okay, they're OK I guess, yaa right) find a sudden interest in me. Not just the hormonal kind. No! There's more to all this. I'm not gonna lie, I feel like I should get a little more responsible and serious for all the drastic choices I'm supposed to make. Suddenly, everything isn't a sad joke anymore, and why does it suddenly feel like I'M the story. And how did this all start you ask? Oh how else! I fooking* went to the party. It's always the parties. I knew I should have stayed home with my robe and ice cream and finished that Spongebob marathon (*curses*)
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They say what's in the past keep it in the past but I wanted to know all about my past. It was things that I didn't know and that I wanted and needed to know! But my life turned upside down when my past is exactly what I should have left alone. Now if you ask me how it all began, I don't exactly remember but I know it started when I moved in with my grandma who I haven't met in all my twenty years of living. I have been in and out of foster homes since I can remember, living with families I knew nothing about. Being the outcast and them constantly asking me what's wrong because I simply did not speak. The only thing that kept me sane was my good grades throughout school. I got the satisfaction of doing the one thing that people kept telling me over and over I couldn't do. I stayed to myself and graduated high school with honors, getting a full-ride scholarship to any college of my choice. Of course, by having this accomplishment, it didn't make it any easier for me between my foster families. To them, I became the girl who was better than them. But I didn't care because when I turned twenty I finally got to start making my own choices. This is where I wonder if the first choice I made was the right one. The first choice I made was to go live off-campus with my grandmother during my first semester in college. I ask myself how could I be so stupid? But you will see just how stupid I was. Or was I?

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