Tracing Lines of Red

Tracing Lines of Red

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Mar 25, 2013
I hated my life. Not to say that my new one is any better. My parents wanted nothing to do with me. I actually was hoping for a way out, but you know what they say: Be careful what you wish for. They never deserved to die. And I never deserved to be kidnapped. Or to be turned into a bloodthirsty vampire either. Hey, it's not so bad. The only things I have to deal with are the nocturnal sleeping habits, the superhuman strengths and senses, and not to mention the bloodlust. Nothing compared to normal human life, like going to school and doing homework. My name is Marie and welcome to my life of blood, death, murder, and these lines of red, which is all I can see clearly anymore.
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My life has always been terrible. I was always bullied at school. I don't know why, it just seemed that people didn't like my presence. The guys would beat me up and I'd get in trouble when I defended myself, for the teachers never saw what they did. The girls would trick me, making me think they liked me and laughing at me because of it. I was always in the principle's office for one reason or another, but I wasn't a bad student. I actually got really good grades. To make matters worse, my mother wanted nothing to do with me. She'd lock me in the basement, sometimes for days, with no food or warmth. My father would then sneak down and beat me before raping me. So, naturally, I wanted to die. But, for some reason, I can't die. No matter what I do, I can't stay dead. The thing I want more than anything is far out of my reach. Why can't I just die? Warning: mention of rape, suicide, and abuse. Also, this is a boy's love story.

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