chapter 3
the party

the campana chimed and we all lead out of the hall, me and becca linked arms as we walked down and i thought to myself after the first day, i had some friends i was on the cheerleading team,and i had a party to go to tonight. i was acturally really exsited.
i didn't realise how much i was thinking and how much time passed, until i ralised that becca was now talking to tom liam and danny were play fighting and jake was looking down.
"whats up?" i asked quietly just incase.
"i was just thinking " i kept silent to give him time to tell me if he wanted to "i never believed in something...

My world changed the día my mom died as I’m in my fathers plane o our company plane that he owns. I remember the día I was in the waiting room that the wreak had killed her . I remember stand on the cliff overlooking the ocean hoping that I would wake up to fide that it had all been a dream.
The metal had not cut though my mother flesh that her blood was not stain of the road. It was my fault I had been the one that had been at the party I should not have.     
    I pulled my headphones out of my ears as the plane touch down my father was standing...

As Marley was at home, he was doing research about vampiros but still nothing about vampiros losing their short term memory loss ability. It is hard to get facts about vampiros without running into a movie, T.V series o book. “What’s this?” dicho Marley. “Vampires from the Hunters Eyes”. As Marley looked through the website a lot of the facts were true like the side effects, half-bloods and pure-bloods. Then he saw just what he was looking for, as he read he understood. “Half-bloods are hated throughout the line of pure-bloods but are used as slaves o grunts. Those who are bitten...

I stood at his grave. The people had finally cleared out. Now it was only me and him. I bit my lip, there would be no más tears. He didn’t want that. I sat down, and went into the depths of my mind.

I still remember the last kiss we shared. We had been in the forest on the far side of town. He pinned me against a tree, and crashed his lips to mine. Our lips moved so perfectly together. My tongue flicked out and ran along his bottom lip. His mouth dropped open and I eagerly entered.

He had been the dominate one in the relationship, no pregunta about it. But sometimes, he liked to see me take...

"Olga Wilson." called my 8th grade history teacher, Mr. Franklin.
I looked up at him dazed. I know this may sound weird, but I've always admired how he looked like. chocolate tanned skin with short curly black hair and honey-brown eyes. He always dresses up like those people in old 1990s educational videos. But either way, I always thought he was beautiful. If he was the same age as me, I'd fecha him. But he's on his 30s and he's married and has 2 teenage sons. So he's out of my list.
"Ms. Wilson." he called me once más with his soothing voice. "Daydreaming again?"
"I guess." I sighed.
Everyone...

I am from a dad who showed me amor –till I turned four
--A navy man with no más room for me
To burned bridges with family, friends and loved ones

From the chilly blue ocean, days spent at the golden beach,
And time spent hiding from the world

From days spent with despair and wishes for death
To days with unending laughter and forced smiles

The hopes of tomorrow being destroyed
And memories that become tarnished

From helping raise four younger siblings
And growing up too fast
To begging my friend not to die

From my tears, joy, and fears
To finding the Father who always loved me

From being too terrified...