Chapter 1
Nervena POV
(A week before, Monday)
I wake up from the horrifying and blood curling dream with a pounding heart,which was as loud as banging drum in my ears,and which I doubt would stop its assault any minute now.
But I can't call it a dream, can I?
I clench my blanket with my fist feeling distressed,horrified and on the verge of crying myself hoarse as the images of my nightmare keep flashing through my minds eye,as if taunting me and joyous as they make me more sleep deprived and more numb than I already am.
A few tears leaks own brown cheeks.
I have never in all my sixteen years of livid,except in the few hours when I was born(i was an angel as a baby),cried. At least not for something I know I'm never getting over.
I haven't for the past 9 years and 5 months so why would they go away now?
I curl into a ball on my bed and try to cry as silently as possible so as to not wake my parents up from sleep.
Well they're my adoptive parents really(though I prefer calling them mom and dad since they're the only parents I've ever known since that unfortunate day.)
I didn't want to talk about it much less think about it.
I takes deep breath in and let it out slowly.
I stretch my arms and let out a yawn, still trying to wakeup,so I can get ready for school which starts at 6:30am and I didn't want to be late.
After I finish taking my bath and wearing a black and white long top, a pair of black leggings that had short grey stripes at the sides, grabbing my backpack and a pair flat to go with. I put on a little lip-gloss which is the only one thing about makeup that I can stand. On other people, sure, makeup looks great and all but not on me.
What's wrong with a person's natural beauty anyway? It's shouldn't be tampered with for it's not what defines you or tells you who you are. Beauty is something overlooked in this day an age which us highly disappointingly sad. You could find a person pretty or handsome and they'd still be terrible people underneath.
Where for not you agree with this,it doesn't change the fact that it's just the sad truth of life. And unless we change that, we'll never move forward.
After I go downstairs and grab something to eat, I leave post-it note on the fridge telling dad and mom where I am. Well going ti be but whatever,the details don't matter.
