Escribe una rese帽a

Trapped Love

Todos los derechos reservados 漏

Sinopsis

Everyone can believe in the idea of being innocent until proven guilty but when someone holds the evidence to prove your guilt, how long can you continue to run from your inevitable fate? After moving to America in an attempt to escape her troubled past, Lola Haywell dives head first into the idea of a fresh start and it isn't long before she lands on her feet. Lola begins living a life which every typical teenager dreams of: popularity, great friends and even catching the attention of Oakmore High School's golden boy Zac Enderly. Everyone adores her, everyone wants to be her. However, when familiar faces resurface and explosive events unfold, Lola's new life begins to crumble before her eyes. As people start to question the truth behind her past and unearth something shocking, the secret which has the power to destroy Lola and everything she has, threatens to be revealed. And her love which was once free becomes trapped between the idea of embracing the past or running away from it forever...

Genero:
Romance / Mystery
Autor/a:
ABrunetteGirl
Estado:
Completado
Cap铆tulos:
40
Rating:
4.4 5 rese帽as
Clasificaci贸n por edades:
16+

A Fresh Start

Chapter 1:


A Fresh Start


Even in the darkest of moments, a glimpse of light is all it takes to give you the hope that you can start again.

The nightmares of the past few months are drawing to a close, as of today. There鈥檚 no turning back, and that feeling is enough to give me the best night of sleep I鈥檝e had in a long time; despite being broken up but that in itself says a lot.

But right now, I lay here, eyes wide open, waiting for my alarm to go off at 6:30 in the morning.

It鈥檚 a Monday, and I hate Mondays, I鈥檝e spent the past sixteen years mindlessly hoping that someone would get rid of them, but I鈥檓 yet to have those hopes fulfilled. However, this Monday isn鈥檛 like any other start to the week; I鈥檓 going to be starting at my new school.

Most people would usually be excited, but me? I鈥檓 dreading it mainly because I鈥檓 starting halfway through the semester.

I look at school as if it鈥檚 a prison; 6 hours a day of work and then homework, it鈥檚 a continuous cycle that every average teenager has to go through, and it鈥檚 horrible.

The beeping of the alarm fills my silent bedroom. Rolling onto my side, I hit the button, turning it off. I stretch my legs, pulling my covers up over me so that I can wriggle around in my sleepy warmth for one final time before starting my day.

There鈥檚 no time left to waste sitting and wondering what the day ahead will hold for me.

Through the gape in my curtains, it looks bright. It鈥檚 only March, but it seems as though it鈥檒l be a beautiful day today. The first semi warmest day I鈥檝e seen since moving to Illinois. That鈥檚 where I live now; I moved over to America from England a couple of weeks ago.

Getting out of bed after rubbing my eyes multiple times, I drag my feet across the floor towards my bedroom door. This is it, a fresh start, an opportunity to reinvent myself.

Anyone who has ever started at a new school will know that the only fun thing is the possibility of making yourself whoever you wanted to be, painting your image of yourself into the minds of everyone else. If I wanted to be a polite, teacher鈥檚 pet- I could be. If I wanted to be a rebel and skip classes, even though the chances of that happening are unlikely- I could be.

You don鈥檛 get many chances to start again, but for me, this is something I have to grab with both hands. I need to get away from the person I used to be, or I鈥檒l be stuck in this darkness forever.

Despite feeling sick from nerves, I know that I should eat breakfast before carrying on with the day. Heading downstairs to the kitchen, I carefully avoid knocking over any of the packing boxes from the mountains that have gathered in the hallway.

After looking through a few boxes on the kitchen counter, I find the toaster and decide that a couple of slices of toast may be enough to settle my stomach.

Although I鈥檇 had my best night of sleep in a while, the recurring thoughts and nightmares had crept in, waking me up every so often. I gently rest my head on the table, tiredness dawning on me and before I know it, I鈥檓 fighting to keep my eyelids open.

鈥淟ola!鈥 My mum screams as she storms into the kitchen.

She wraps her purple, fluffy dressing gown around herself tighter in an attempt to stay warm. Her hair is ruffled messily, the short locks clumping together while her eyes are bloodshot, suggesting that I鈥檝e woken her from her sleep.

The burning smell in the air and the ear-piercing sound of the smoke alarm confirms my suspicion; my toast has burnt.

It turns out that I鈥檝e slept for 20 minutes and unfortunately for me, our broken toaster that is incapable of popping up the bread once it鈥檚 cooked has meant that I鈥檓 now facing an angry parent. As she fans the kitchen towel around the alarm to stop it from screeching, we both listen in the hopes that it hasn鈥檛 woken my four-year-old sister up.

Checking the time, I notice that my power nap means that I鈥檓 now running late. I have 30 minutes until the bus leaves the stop and so far I鈥檝e had no breakfast and remain sitting in my pyjamas. With hesitation, I force down the burnt toast, not having time to make anymore.

***

Stepping into the shower, I stretch out my arms, feeling warm water trickle down my body. There鈥檚 something so comforting about showering in the morning. Not only did it make you feel awake, but it also makes you feel fresh and clean for the day ahead.

The smell of vanilla fills the air in the small cubicle as I lather up the soap, rubbing it across myself. As I turn the shower off, I squeeze the ends of my hair through my hands to wring out the remaining water droplets. Grabbing the towel from the heater, I tightly wrap it around my body, allowing the warmth to kiss my wet skin.

After drying off, I walk into my room and most some items about so that I can open my wardrobe doors.

My room is still extremely messy, and I haven鈥檛 been able to unpack everything that got moved over here.

So far, I have somewhat decorated my room. All of my walls are white other than one accent wall which I have painted a dusky pink colour. On it sits a framed picture containing a quote, not a picture of myself from England, there were no memories I wanted to bring to America with me.

My bed sat in the middle of my room had been made by my mum while I was in the bathroom鈥攖he fluffy pink pillow placed in the centre and the soft grey blanket droops across the edge.

Personally, my favourite part of my room is my window sill. My view looks out onto the fields behind our house, stretching for miles to where the sun meets the horizon. Placed in the middle are a beautiful array of roses, standing in their vase, reminding me every day that just like a flower, I can also blossom into something beautiful.

Drawing my attention back to the clothes in front of me, I begin to flick through each hanger.

What shouts out 鈥榝irst day of school鈥?

I pick out a pair of skinny jeans along with a white lace top and a grey cardigan. Matching this with my white trainers and some hoop earrings, I finally feel happy with my decision.

As I walk back to the bathroom to style my hair, something catches my eye. The bathroom window is open, something I hadn鈥檛 done when I was in here moments ago.

I run forward, shutting it, my heart beating fast now. Leaning my back against the shower door, I take a few deep breaths; I need to gain control of these irrational thoughts. They鈥檙e the main reason as to why I hadn鈥檛 started school earlier, and they are my most significant setback.

The thoughts frustrate me the most. They鈥檙e so silly, yet I鈥檓 unable to prevent them or convince myself that the problems in my head aren鈥檛 real. They can鈥檛 possibly have found me over here, not yet anyway.

After slowing down my breathing and heartbeat, I lift my head, catching a glimpse of my bedraggled appearance in the mirror. I keep my hair down, silently praising its natural straightness which means that a brush is enough to make it neat. I clip the strands at the front back and apply some makeup, making sure it looks natural and not like I鈥檓 trying too hard.

Looking down at the watch on my writes, I have 5 minutes until I have to leave or I face being late and that鈥檚 no way to start your first day.

I walk over to my new should bag, placing my makeup and a water bottle inside. At the moment, it鈥檚 reasonably light, but that鈥檚 because there are no heavy textbooks in it yet. I鈥檓 sure it鈥檒l weigh a ton by the end of the week.

Slinging it over my shoulder, I run down the stairs, giving my mum a kiss on the cheek and the same to my sister Lily. The glare from my mum proves that the smoke alarm did wake her up, but I don鈥檛 have time to apologise right now.

Despite the deceiving warm look from behind the window, it鈥檚 still cold. We鈥檝e moved to a small town surrounded by tall mountains and towering trees which are beginning to blossom. I did miss England, but I lived just outside of London, and although it was one of the nicer areas, it still contained the hustle and bustle of the city.

However, out here, it鈥檚 breathtaking. The kind of place that you dream of living with your family in the future, even though it鈥檚 crazy for me to be thinking that far ahead but I鈥檝e always been a hopeless romantic.

Upon reaching the bus stop, there鈥檚 another girl with short black hair and me. Now鈥檚 the start of the test, and I have to step outside of my comfort zone if I want to make friends.

鈥淗i.鈥 I say shyly, trying to gain her attention.

She doesn鈥檛 reply, but then I realise that she鈥檚 listening to music and although my cheeks flush with embarrassment, at least she wasn鈥檛 purposely blocking me out.

As the bus pulls around the corner, it鈥檚 rustic features stick out. The paintwork scratched from its years of service, but the yellow bus is just as I imagined it鈥攖he same as you see in the movies.

I get on the bus, looking straight down the aisle, trying not to notice what feels like millions of eyes glaring at me. As I start to walk towards the empty seats as the back, all I can hear is whispering and murmuring, people wondering who I am or stating that they haven鈥檛 seen me before.

All of the boys look thrilled to see a new girl, smirking at each other. A blush crosses my cheeks, and I lower my head as I quicken my pace to reach a seat.

When I get to the black, a girl with light blonde hair sat by the window; her bag placed on the other seat. Her long, curly ringlets fall just past her shoulders, and her glistening blue eyes continue to stare over the fields. She sits with her legs crossed, her red floral skirt just above her knee.

I clear my throat, looking at the seat, and upon noticing me, she moves her bag.

鈥淵ou can sit here.鈥 Her soft American accent is friendly.

She seems to be the only person not judging me on my appearance. I sit down slowly and sigh. I already hate this, and there are only about 30 people on the bus, let alone the number of people that will be at school.

鈥淚鈥檓 guessing you鈥檙e new around here. Hi, I鈥檓 Sophie!鈥 The girl says.

I straighten my back in shock, not expecting her to speak to me.

鈥淗i, I鈥檓 Lola, it鈥檚 my first day.鈥 I reply, giving the tiniest amount of eye contact before my nerves make me look away again.

Her eyes widen at my accident, and I suddenly remember that I鈥檓 British. I was trying so hard to fit in, yet my accent doesn鈥檛.

鈥淵ou鈥檙e British! You鈥檙e accent, it鈥檚 amazing!鈥 She gawps.

I giggle, it鈥檚 like she鈥檚 seen a puppy for the first time.

鈥淭hank you, my family and I moved here a few weeks ago. With all of my nerves, I forgot that my accent is completely different from all of yours. I suppose I鈥檒l be hearing a lot of people say that to me today.鈥

She laughs.

鈥淵ou certainly will! How old are you?鈥 She asks.

鈥淚鈥檓 16, 17 in June.鈥 I reply.

鈥淒oes that mean you鈥檒l be joining us in Junior year?鈥 She calculates immediately, excitement radiating from her voice.

鈥淚 guess so.鈥

鈥淭hat鈥檚 so cool! Hopefully, we鈥檒l have some classes together. Who knows, maybe we鈥檒l end up becoming the best of friends.鈥 She nudges my side with her arm, joking with me, but her comment gives me some kind of hope that I鈥檒l find more people like her.

Looking around at the other people, most are listening to music. I reach into my bag to grab my headphones, but Sophie is so amazed by the fact that I鈥檓 not American, she continues to ask me questions.

I begin to learn more about her as she chats to me. How she asks this many questions in such a short amount of time amazes me, but I know that she鈥檒l be the first of many people today, so I鈥檓 just going to have to get used to it.

I鈥檓 the new girl, and inevitably, people are going to want to find out who I really am.

And I will use absolutely everything in my power to make sure they don鈥檛.

Continuar leyendo Siguiente Cap铆tulo
Otras recomendaciones

pavitrasalluri: I'm really in love with the story

Betty: Tr猫s beau livre .j adore je suis 脿 fond dedans

friedaluke21: Absolutely wonderful. Can't wait for the new book to be released

Sandra: Eine sehr sch枚ne Liebesgeschichte, ich freue mich schon auf den 2ten Teil.

Phyllis: Please do an update on this story. I enjoyed your work.thank you

Jaqueline Leal: Me gust贸, la tem谩tica fue fuerte pero abordada de una manera responsable y respetuosa, me encanta la manera que tienes de escribir muchas felicidades, sigue haciendo lo siempre

Estefan铆a: Me pareci贸 un poco dram谩tica la reacci贸n de ella. Pero en general me ha gustado

Teresa Knapp: Getting better!Still feel like you could have gone into more detail in some areas and I see where you left it open at the end for another one!

M谩s recomendaciones

deadras742: O would tell everyone about thos book 馃摉 it really good wish there were more.

allison o'connor: Didn't sleep and now I've got a headache. But I'm loving them! On to book four.

Holly: Can definitely see where the author is going with this. Struggling with some of the grammatical errors but perfectly capable of continuing with the sentence.

Nashla_343: Me encanta 鉂わ笍馃ぃ y me dio mucha risa

marilyn: I am so happy ivy is back. Even though her name is saffron now.

Sobre nosotros

Inkitt es la primera editorial del mundo impulsada por los lectores y que ofrece una plataforma para descubrir talentos ocultos y convertirlos en autores de 茅xito mundial. Escribe historias cautivadoras, lee novelas encantadoras y publicaremos los libros que m谩s gusten a nuestros lectores en nuestra app hermana, GALATEA, y otros formatos.