going to get my ID back by force. He is moving his arms so quickly that its impossible t

planning on gi

en that picture was taken. It was about six months ago, and also the day when I lost my glasses yet again, leaving me

truly has been

on his azure hair and sparkle, making his whole head look like it is sprinkled with stardust. He

tounded at his pompousness and how hon

and flashes me a bright, astounding smile. I am a

bitingly, "I prefer a trait in men that you d

fore. I would sacrifice anything, even my life, for you. I know that's a strange statement to make, bu

, interrupting his rant. I can't believe my ears

you in the forest. I’m usually not very kind to trespassers that stumble our way." After a short span of shocked silence,

I'm his "mate", bound to him for life (or afterlife), and he

in his beautiful green eyes, sile

sly. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he just wants the satisfaction of hav

I get a choice on whether to be his mate? Is he so s

from this nightmare. My red hair falls into my face, my hands shaking. Xavier

etreating from my sight. I hear the pounding of footst

phone, you

ng around my toes as I slosh through the muddy dirt, my bare feet dyed brown. My red hair is loose and wavy, flying as a blast of cold wind

m is a

*

P!

, a whole collection from my childhood, which I can't bear to get rid of. Gold tones flood through my small windows, illuminating my face as I sit up into the glaring sunlight. J

resser, I carelessly grab a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, sliding it over my form. My spare pair of glasses, the other

urrounding it. Another one, though not quite so major, decorates my knee, bringi

e crazy man last night who

queness I did not understand. Even thinking of him sends tingles through my

s overtaking my senses. A repugnant stench makes my nose wrinkle in disgust, but not su

ow. It was just a feeling, in the pit of my stomach, that something was terribly wrong. The other kids, as I grew up, seemed to understand that also, gladly treating me like I didn't belong. At fir

gave up on

g into a hard shell that was sharp, bitter, and to

bove th

, making myself smarter and even more above the crowd. Now, to ac

awful puberty and other strugg

l. It begins at 8:00 AM, and it is 7:40. No wonder all the other orphans are gone, the only noise

so much

r supervisor. She raises her eyebrows as I quickly snatch my backpack. "Mona!" she c

ent to bed at two o'clock the last night! I mutt

n. Ms. Penn glares at me as I hurriedly down a glass of water, my frenzied gulps echoing in the

agon is furious now. It mig

es, a size too small for comfort. I shove my feet into them, making the straps loosen as far as possible, my toes falling off the sole. T

e around quickly. Ms. Penn is nowhere to be found, probably in her office to write me up for another c

zied ponytail. My nose, crooked as always, juts out slightly, an annoying feature I absolutely hate. My slightly curvy body hides under some of the only clothes I own, a baggy t-shirt and lo

t god-like man I saw last night. I am the least desirable girl at school, and for good reason. I don't ev

ing it, and then pull it open quickly. My eyes wi

voice whispers to the wind, we