Story cover for growing a voice by music_is_in_my_veins
growing a voice
  • WpView
    Reads 64
  • WpVote
    Votes 12
  • WpPart
    Parts 15
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 16m
  • WpView
    Reads 64
  • WpVote
    Votes 12
  • WpPart
    Parts 15
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 16m
Ongoing, First published Dec 10, 2016
Mature
"she won't fight back" he laughed,landing a punch on her side,she glared at him from the chair,fighting tears, he was right, they both knew it,
lowering her head, she whispered 
"fine"
"like we need your permission" he and his friends laughed, 
she braced herself for the pain to come 
it did
**
Sarah is a very passive girl, who let's life have it's way with her,Sarah was no fighter, 
when she gets kidnapped  (CLICHÉ) in an alleyway, 
when her kidnapper learns her weakness, she needs to grow and earn a voice, but it's impossible, or is it?
And with her future mapped out like an obstacle course in front of her, its either do or die,
All Rights Reserved
Sign up to add growing a voice to your library and receive updates
or
Content Guidelines
You may also like
You may also like
Slide 1 of 9
Children of the Dead cover
Billionaires deal cover
Crazy cover
Raine Walker cover
Unexpected life  cover
Men of Iron - Book 5: Forged In Her Obedience cover
CAPTURED BY HIM (Book I: Captured series) cover
Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required cover
Kidnapped by the Mafia on Purpose  cover

Children of the Dead

50 parts Complete

Enver Williams is leading on a normal life but that is all ripped away from her when she is taken from her home town. When Enver comes to realize that there are others like her in more ways than one, she is determined to free herself and her newfound friends from the physiological torment of her closely supervised enclosure. ••• "Do I make you nervous, Enver?" Another idiotic question. "Wouldn't the man who kidnapped you and threatened to kill you make you nervous?" I snap at him. He only smiles an odd, crooked grin. I can make that disappear. "Wouldn't a murder make you nervous?" Now it's my turn to pull the strings. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes. "How many times do I have to say it?" He pauses, I guess hoping for some sort of mercy in my eyes, "I didn't kill her." "Liar!" I shout. "Why won't you believe me?!" "Would you believe yourself?" "It wasn't me who shot her," he sits on a stool, resting his elbows on his knees. "Then how do you know she was shot?" "I saw it. I saw him kill her," his voice was riddled with such pure vulnerability and pain it begged me to believe him. "Who?" I try to sound sympathetic, but it comes out as scared. Maybe, subconsciously, I am scared.