My Boyfriend And I Have A Secret

My Boyfriend And I Have A Secret

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Nov 7, 2010
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Fiction
Romance
Hi. My name is Harley Penn, I'm 16 years old and I want to share my secret. Before I do, let me tell you about my life. I have a pretty ordinary life with a mom, dad, and 2 older brothers. Along with my boyfriend of seven months, Carson Stiller. Carson is pretty much my rock, I feel like I can do anything as long as he believes in me and I won't fail without him. My friends don't particularly have a special place in their heart for Carson but that didn't stop me from ignoring their opinion and diving into the relationship. Still now, I don't regret my decision to get involved with him despite his constant warnings that he wasn't good with....commitment I guess you could say. Well, moving on to the other things, I always felt something different with Carson like it wasn't meant to be but it drew me in closer and fate had it's choice for me I guess. And so, this brings me back to the beginning, my secret. One more thing first, as I tell you my story you are going to try your best to find out why everything happened as it did and maybe you'll figure it out but there's even parts where I don't understand what's going on. I'd love to say that by reading my story you will feel over kept with the happily ever after that are in most young teen stories but you probably won't, I'm telling you now that you will feel anything but that and even as I write this I do not feel any remorse. My secret is, if you are reading this, I am not alive. Also, Carson is the one who killed me.
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The First

I was the first. I arrived in the Glade, and there was nothing and... no one. I remembered nothing about who I was, who my parents were, what happened. A few days I remembered my name, and that's it. That's all that ever came back. There were four walls surrounding me with only one exit. I wanted to go through, so I did, in hopes of finding my way out. What I found lurking on the other side was not an exit but something much worse. I found my way back, and I spent the next month fending for myself. Food, water, a temporary shelter. After a month, someone else arrived, and this person arrived with supplies. Every month a new person was sent up. Every arrival was the same as mine. They couldn't remember anything. I was the first one here, and that means that I call the shots, I make the rules, and I run the place.

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