You aren't so cold... when we're alone

You aren't so cold... when we're alone

  • WpView
    Reads 383
  • WpVote
    Votes 3
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
WpMetadataReadOngoing14m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Mar 10, 2021
WpInfo
Fanfic
Billie Eilish
Eva's POV :"You have 3 seconds to leave this building and never come back" the person behind her said. She thought for a spilt second and heard a warning shot. So she left and ran like her life depended on it because it did... This is the scene that played over in her head as she entered her new home and soon school. Why did this happen? Did I miss something? She'll never know. However what she'll soon come to find out is how much harder her new school will be especially since it's an all girls boarding school. Nothing is as it seems and she'll soon come to learn that... A/N: This is my first story soo I'm open to any suggestions and criticism you have other than that just read the book hope you like it...
All Rights Reserved
#580
hauntingly
WpChevronRight
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • Children of the Dead
  • Blue Ivy Agency
  • Apocalypse: The Healer's Story
  • Dark Lust
  • Delinquent Academy
  • Split [ONC 2024]
  • Project Pen (first draft)
  • His Prisoner (DISCONTINUED)
  • Records of Abysse (Old Version)
  • I don't understand you anymore...

Enver Williams is leading on a normal life but that is all ripped away from her when she is taken from her home town. When Enver comes to realize that there are others like her in more ways than one, she is determined to free herself and her newfound friends from the physiological torment of her closely supervised enclosure. ••• "Do I make you nervous, Enver?" Another idiotic question. "Wouldn't the man who kidnapped you and threatened to kill you make you nervous?" I snap at him. He only smiles an odd, crooked grin. I can make that disappear. "Wouldn't a murder make you nervous?" Now it's my turn to pull the strings. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes. "How many times do I have to say it?" He pauses, I guess hoping for some sort of mercy in my eyes, "I didn't kill her." "Liar!" I shout. "Why won't you believe me?!" "Would you believe yourself?" "It wasn't me who shot her," he sits on a stool, resting his elbows on his knees. "Then how do you know she was shot?" "I saw it. I saw him kill her," his voice was riddled with such pure vulnerability and pain it begged me to believe him. "Who?" I try to sound sympathetic, but it comes out as scared. Maybe, subconsciously, I am scared.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines