Welcome to my new story, I just want to put a disclaimer out there.
This is solely from my imagination, so this story is mine and if you try and copyright me I will find you and report you. I'm not trying to be rude but this needs to be said.
I do not tolerate rudeness, there is a fine line between constructive criticism and rudeness. Therefore if you're being rude to me or anyone in the comment section I will report you. I want this to be a safe place for people to read and enjoy themselves.
Like I said, in no way am I try to be rude and if I am then I apologise but this needs to be said. It will really help me out if you comment about seeing any gramma or spelling mistakes. This is a ruff draft so it won't be perfect, I am planning to edit this once I've finished my other story that can be found on my profile.
This book has cursing and mild mature themes, such as violence and heavy topics. If that is a problem then leave and read another book. This story is complete fiction so please don't take any of this story seriously, I did research a few things just to get an idea on the cost of things and some other things regarding the story, that will be revelled later in the story but other than that, everything else is fiction.
Pain was coursing through me like lightening, it filled my sole entire being, there was nothing left but pain. That was until a pair of grey almost white eyes met mine, they held concern and pain, not for himself but for me, there was something else there that I couldn't quite decipher maybe a familiarity I don't know.
"Hold on sis, you're safe now." He spoke, his voice like soft velvet but there was an undertone to the words he spoke, a promise for revenge, justice.
And then nothing, just black an oblivion almost, there was no sound and most of all no pain. Just silence, peace and quite, for once I felt at peace like if this is the end; no more fighting, no more pain and heartbreak, then I was ok with it.
This was the dream I had every night, on repeat, it played over and over again, like a broken record. The same beautiful yet familiar grey eyes met mine every night and then just disappear, like they were never even there.
With this dream came a throbbing headache and another question added to my list of many question that I have obtained through out the years but with no answers.
Grabbing my tatty old diary, I wrote down the events of the dream, this dream had been happening for years, it started when I was twelve and I'm now 21. Every time the dream occurred I would right it down, along with a list of questions, of what ifs, of possibility's of stupid hope.
I glanced to my night stand and found that it read 08:30 am, right on the dot.
"Shit" I cursed, I was late for a job interview, I have many jobs, most concerning waiting tables and making coffee but some not so much. This one however was a secretary application, for one of the most powerful men in the country. He didn't have the best reputation, some say he's gentle and kind while others say he's an arrogant, cocky bastard.
Quickly jumping out of bed I ran to the shower, and had the quickest one of all that it should be put in the Guinness world records. I quickly got changed, did my hair and ran out the door. I don't believe in makeup, if a guy's gonna like you then it should be because he likes the real you, not the you with pounds of makeup on and clothes that hardly cover anything.
Grabbing my purse, shoes and jacket, I ran out the door. My outfit consisted of a black pencil skirt, a white button up blouse, black stiletto shoes and finally accompanied by a black blazer. Normally I hate blazers but today they were my life saver, I have a sleeve tattoo, which isn't the most inviting thing in an interview. So I hide it with a blazer, lots and lots of blazers. You can still see it but not as much, if the old me could see me now she would be ashamed. Every tattoo I have has a meaning behind it and by covering it up is like saying I shouldn't have gotten them in the first place.
The thing is, I have gotten so desperate, that covering up something so precious to get money is the only resolution, then I would do it. The meaning behind my sleeve tattoo is that it was meant to represent my parents, they died when I was younger and I've never been the same since.
The ding of the elevator pulled me out of my trance, looking up I stepped inside and pressed the ground floor button.
Walking out of the building I started towards my car, she was an old Toyota, with red chipped paint. This was my parents car, the only thing I got from them, it was ridiculous considering we were quite a wealthy family with more than enough money. The stupid bank made up this story that all that money was used to pay for my family's burial, which is absolute horse poop considering there was millions in there and their burial was only a couple hundred pounds.
Rolling my eyes as I recalled the memory, I started the engine and started to drive towards what was hopefully going to be my new work place. Fingers crossed, I really need this money, my landlord said he needs the money by next month and if I don't get this job then I won't have a place to sleep. I'll be out on the streets again, starving for a proper meal and begging for money.