Ruins Of The Sun

Ruins Of The Sun

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing9m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Oct 11, 2015
"Brooklyn," Hale would say. "Let's go on another adventure!" We were four at the time, so like kids we'd call our very important journeys 'adventures'. Now as we are fourteen and mature we call them journeys because... Well... That's what they are. Everyday we attempt to escape the dark and musty tunnels of the underpass. Trying to find a way out; a way to be free, anonymous, and nonaligned. Constant failure. Still we continue to try every single day. We were close to escaping once. Stupid guards. Covered the exit as soon as resources were obtained. Still on we try. Neither of us can stand the darkness and conformity anymore. That is why we have to find a way out. Even if it's the last thing we do. •Edited By Hermione_Weasley__ •
Public Domain
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What did they mean? I knew who I was, didn't I? I was Rosalia Mallory, a girl left on the doorstep of our town's foster agency to find a new home. From there I went through three homes before at the age of 16 instead of having to live in the group home I secured enough money to, along with the money the foster carers were given for me, to buy an apartment building. Alongside a job bartending and waitressing I had enough money to attend college and am currently studying Religion and Mythology, Creative writing and Art. Just a normal teenage girl with a normal life. But at the same time, I'm not. Who am I? Seems like the most cliché question a teenager can ask right? Except when your missing months, if not years, of your life suddenly that seemingly simple question takes on a whole new meaning. After all, if you don't know your whole past how can you answer that for yourself?

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