Story cover for Forgotten soul by RachaelSmith784
Forgotten soul
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    Leituras 46
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    Votos 6
  • WpPart
    Capítulos 4
  • WpHistory
    Tempo 15m
  • WpView
    Leituras 46
  • WpVote
    Votos 6
  • WpPart
    Capítulos 4
  • WpHistory
    Tempo 15m
Em andamento, Primeira publicação em mai 12, 2013
I've forgotten what it's like to be at home. To be safe. To feel the warmth of a blanket or a somewhat decent meal. I've been trapped in this place for over a month now. Kidnapped from my mother. The day before mothers day as well. Sometimes i wonder if they have just given up on me. What about all of my friends? I wonder how they are holding up. I'm hoping that i get out of this hellish place before summer. More time to be with my counsellor. But no matter how hard you try. Sometimes you just can't let go
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I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
The King Of All Vampire Kings (Book 1) ✔️ new edition coming soon:), de S0NDREENJ
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Book 1 of (The Awakening Series) {#1 Supernatural} {#1 Paranormal} {#1 Lycans} {#1 Vampire Romance} {#5 Royalty} The world went to shit long before I was born. Humans like me use to believe other species were nothing more than fictional characters, myths, or figures of one's imagination. But that was before vampires left the shadows and decided to reveal their species to the world. I've been told that teenage girls use to fantasize about being swooshed off their feet by those mysterious creatures. Insane. Matter of fact, insane would be an understatement, they were fucking lunatics. Vampires are not some fictional character that would love you like no other. No, vampires are not some sort of myth, and they most certainly are not, a figment of anyone's imagination. They are very real, and they despise the human race. In fact, they have enslaved my entire species and formed a new world. Each continent is owned by a ruthless, bloodsucking, barbaric, the vampire king. Every single one of them has played a part in the war of the awakening, showing no mercy, killing without question. Humans didn't even stand a chance. Our army and world leaders were killed or imprisoned in less than a couple of days. They slaughtered my race, but it didn't stop there. No, that was only the beginning of human suffering. Trust me when I say the death was truly a kindness, because anyone who survived the awakening, would beg for death. I was positive that my suffering would come to an end when I turned eighteen. I was hoping and praying to be marked as a feeder, nothing more, nothing less. Death was the only way out of this world. You see, all of the kings who ruled over the earth were cruel and calculating. They are all tyrants in their own right and they all answered to one vampire. Who was known as the most barbaric of them all and I was marked as his chosen. The King of all Vampire Kings. "This book is currently undergoing edits for publication."
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I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.