The Secret Rules Of Walking

Kyan lives by her own rules. At five, she renamed herself. At seven, she befriended a middle-schooler by streaking across a soccer field. At ten, she spray-painted her neighborhood her favorite colors and jumped from their roofs. Already a product of juvie twice, somehow, she managed to pull her best trick yet--walking her old red sneakers right into my life.

🌀 🌀 🌀

For years now, every breath I breathe reminds me of her. My plague and my savior, I can't help but think of her as more than my friend.

Then tragedy strikes, and Kyan slips from my grasp. Kyan could be gone forever, and I am not sure who needs her recovery more.

((Note: This was my NaNoWriMo story, and though I did not complete it, I did reach 50,000 words and am in the process of editing the chapters that I have written. This marks my first story, full length, that is not a fan fiction or collaboration, so be prepared for bad grammar, cheesy lines, the writing skills of a wannabe middle schooler at best, and overall a mediocre story.))