Rebuilding Her Life

Rebuilding Her Life

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jun 27, 2022
Luella Pearl, a 17-year-old junior in high school, is trying to figure out how to handle high school drama, breakups, college applications, and, most importantly, herself. In the meantime, one fine afternoon, she is trying to put ketchup on her fries in some different lines but accidentally summons a demon. Not just any demon, but an alpha demon who will help her define what she wants, who will help her to rebuild it into something better and worth. {}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{} I reached over the table to touch the striking man sitting in front of me just to make sure I am hallucinating and he is a figment of my wild imagination but he slapped my hand away. I backed away and sat down with a thud. I blinked at him to process the grim reality for straight two minutes. "Who are you?" I whisper after scarcely finding my voice. "Dollface, I am a demon whom you just summoned" he answers in a bored tone. I grimaced at the nickname he just gave me and take a good look at him. "Wait.....You are a demon? But you look so ... um..... cliche." His face morphed like he is asking for some sort of strength to deal with me, "This is going to be a lot harder than I have imagined." I hear him whisper while he is busy facepalming his handsome face. {}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
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Heart

Her name was Gabriella Quintanilla. She was a senior in high school during this time. She had the looks, all the boys, the popularity, the clothes, and even the grades. And in no way was she ignorant of any of these things--quite the opposite. She knew that she was above average in most categories of life, and had no problem reminding people repeatedly of that fact. I'm not going to lie---I didn't like her. Not at all. To be completely honest, I threatened to kill her with my bare hands. And the scary thing is, I meant it. I wanted her to die. I imagined dark fantasies of the light fading from her eyes right before my own, her pleading for me to spare her life. And in my fantasies, I wouldn't listen and I didn't care. She had tortured me for five years and I was utterly and simply sick of it all. Sick of her. My animosity towards Gabriella was no secret among my peers. Not many people liked her, so it's not like I stood alone on the concept. However I was the only one who voiced a threat. THE threat. The threat that got me on a suspect list in some cop's notepad. They want to know if I killed her. If they knew the whole story, would they blame me if I did? ©Copyright Timara M. Lewis 2013

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