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#Post#: 2407--------------------------------------------------
the runaway - - [book]
By: Rebelia. Date: January 30, 2013, 10:43 pm
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[center][font=georgia]post comments/suggestions in the
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"the runaway series" ;;
book one ;; the runaway.
book two ;; hidden truth.
book three ;; lying game.
book four ;; burning bridges.
the runaway [book one] table of contents ;;
preface
chapter one ;; angel
chapter two ;; james mason.
chapter three ;; olympia high.
chapter four ;; incident.
chapter five ;; queen bees.
chapter six ;; laws.
chapter seven ;; chased.
chapter eight ;; lost.
chapter nine ;; but we carried on anyway.
chapter ten ;; safe and sound.
chapter eleven ;; silver coin.
chapter twelve ;; bloodshed.
chapter thirteen ;; enemy.
chapter fourteen ;; last breath.
[shadow=black,left]T H E R U N A W A
Y.[/shadow][/font][/center]
[spoiler=P R E F A C E][font=courier]I was trapped.[/font]
[font=georgia]The walls seemed to close in on me as I shrank
away from the hungry flames that had me cornered. I was going to
die. I just knew it. I heard my mother's desperate screams,
calling my name as she sprinted don the hallway to my door. I
wanted to move, I wanted to run to my mother. But my feet had
become as heavy as stones, weighing me down so I could not rise
to my feet. My heart pounded in my chest as a scream reached my
ears. No! I thought, willing myself to rise to my feet. Hailey!
I felt the agonizing heat of the fire burn my pale skin as my
hand skimmed across a patch of flames as my right hand touched
the doorknob. The door burst open as soon as I turned the knob,
and I realized that the fire had burned a part of the door,
leaving it unstable. As the door fell to the ground with a thud
and lit up in flames. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me
until I saw a hand sticking out of the doorway to my little
sister's room. I took the hand, pulling the limp body out of the
room, and I shuddered when I saw Hailey's childish, rounded
face. Despite the high temperature of the room, my little
sister's body was as cold as ice. I ran my hand up to her neck
to feel for a pulse.
There was nothing. No warmth, no blood running through her
veins.
My heart sank, a tear running down my cheek as I dared to
look further at Hailey's body. Her round blue eyes were blank
and glazed over, and the cheerful light had faded into a dead
darkness, leaving her beautiful pair of eyes dull and lifeless.
Hailey's blonde hair was tied back in a braid that went down her
back, all the way down to her waist, just as it had been when
she had gone to bed. I did not want to fell the icy coldness of
my sister's skin that indicated that there was no longer warm
blood flowing through her veins, and though I was reluctant to
touch that icy cold skin, I gingerly lifted her petite body in
my arms, and ran--or more like glided down the blackened wooden
steps, bursting through the door. I opened the gate of the white
picket fence, sprinting about fifty feet until I plunged into
the thick forest where I laid Hailey's body. I would come back
for it after I got the rest of my family out of the house, or at
least my youngest sister, Annabelle.
There was no way I was going to let my sister die--I at
least had to try to save her. I was too late for Hailey, but
maybe I could save Annabelle. I felt no concern for my own
safety or my own health. The only thing I cared about at the
moment was saving Annabelle. And so there I went, thrusting
myself into the flames that made a crackling sound as they
devoured my home. I held my breath, cautious not to inhale a lot
of smoke. The charred scent of the thick blackened air made me
want to jump out of the nearest window, but I held myself back.
"Annabelle!" I screeched frantically, pushing aside wooden
beams that had fallen, reaching the charred door to her room.
There was good news and bad news. The good news: Annabelle was
still alive. The bad news: she was surrounded by fire.
Fear clutched me as I rushed to the bathroom; the only place
where there was no fire. A glass sat on the counter, used to
rinse our mouths after brushing our teeth. I grabbed the glass,
filling it with water, and rushing back to Annabelle's room in
about five seconds. She was still alive, but her breathing was
shallow. A cold feeling gripped me as I realized that she didn't
have much time left before death took her. I poured every drop
of water from the glass on the flames that trapped my sister,
and they hissed as they died off, leaving behind blackened wood
and ash.
With as much strength as I could muster, I took my sister's
hand and pulled her up, dragging her to the door. Though she
weighed my down, decreasing my speed, I moved fairly quickly
towards the door ... or what was left of it, anyway. But I
couldn't let Annabelle die. I had been too late for Hailey -
which I would never forgive myself for - but maybe, just maybe I
could save Annabelle. I barely made it out of the house, the
flames not even a centimeter away from my foot as I burst out
the door, sparks flying in my wake. My world was a blur, and I
knew that I was about to feint. Black dots swam in my vision as
I stumbled away from my burning home, and then terror struck me;
my mother was still inside. I wanted to open my mouth and
scream, but I could not make the muscles in my jaw respond to my
will. The black dots grew larger and larger, clouding my vision
as I set Annabelle down on the grass, and my world went
black.[/font][/spoiler]
#Post#: 2409--------------------------------------------------
Re: once in a blue moon - - [book]
By: Rebelia. Date: January 30, 2013, 10:49 pm
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[center][font=georgia][shadow=black,left]A N G E L.[/shadow]
chapter one.[/font][/center]
[spoiler][font=georgia][font=courier]I was on fire.[/font]
The hungry, vicious flames burned my skin, eating me alive.
I screamed as the flames engulfed me, burned me, threatened to
kill me. Being burned alive was excruciating, and without any
doubt, it was the most painful thing I have ever felt -
physically. The world was a blur, a blur of amber as the fire
continued to burn me like I was made of paper. I cast my green
gaze on the flames, trying to bring my world back into focus,
but my eyes would not do what I willed them to do. Panic struck
me harder and harder every second as I flailed helplessly,
screams closing around my throat. But screaming would do no
good. I was going to die, whether I screamed or not.
The flames died, leaving my body a series of red to
coal-black hues. And I saw an angelic, heavenly light shining
from the sky. "I'm not ready to die!" I screamed helplessly as a
small figure emerged from the light. Her silken blonde hair was
tied back in a braid that fell at her waist, her skin so pale
that it was almost white. Her uncommon pallor was familiar, but
I couldn't quite remember why ...
Then she drifted closer, and I could see her face more
clearly. She had a round, childish face, appearing to be around
eight to ten years old. Her features were small and pixie-like,
but beautiful in a childlike way. Her eyes were round, perfect
circles with long, sweeping lashes. The irises of her pair of
round eyes were enveloped in a pale shade of intelligent blue,
which was also shockingly familiar. And then the angelic child
drifted closer to me, so that we were about two feet away from
each other. I flinched when I recognized my little sister,
Hailey. Then I understood; I was dead, just like her. And now
Hailey was an angel who had come to take my soul from the earth.
Her blue eyes were serene as she stared at my burned body,
her seashell-pink lips a hard, flat line.
"Lilith," she said, her voice unusually musical, and
high-pitched, like soprano singing.
I flinched at my real name. Hailey had never called me
Lilith before.
"You're not dead. Neither is Annabelle. You're safe. Now
wake up," she ordered in her sweet soprano voice, touching her
hand to my cheek. My skin tone matched hers, I noticed, but our
hair and eyes were nowhere near similar to each other. My dark
chestnut brown hair was curled in soft ringlets, hers a light
golden, and perfectly straight, but both with a perfectly
smooth, silken texture. My eyes were a pale hue of ivy-green,
versus hers a light blue. Our eye lashes were the same length;
both long and sweeping, colored as black as night.
Our faces were similar, but with different noses, and the
shape of my face was not as round and childish as hers. I was
thirteen, she was nine.
I shuddered at that thought. She was nine when she died.
What a short life, a short life that had ended in flames.
Despite my desolate feelings rushing through me, my expression
was composed. Smooth, emotionless, though I had tears forming at
the bottom of my eyes, a few drops spilling on my cheeks. I
forced myself to speak.
"W-wheres m-mom?" I choked, my voice cracking.
Hailey's face fell. "Gone ..." she whispered, looking me in
the eye meaningfully, pulling her tawny eyebrows together.
My heart sank. So now I had lost my sister and my mother.
Misery and desolate filled my heart as more tears streamed down
my face, and I was now unable to stop.
Before I could speak, the image faded, thrusting me back
into reality. I shuddered as I snapped my eyes open,
scrutinizing my new surroundings. The room I was imprisoned in
was solid white. I was strapped down to a bed, restraining me
from moving a muscle in my arms and legs. Annabelle was on an
identical hospital bed beside me, her eyes closed. There was a
deep gash in her arm, scarlet red liquid still gushing from the
wound. There was a woman with short, choppy brown hair by
Annabelle's side, tending to the wounds in her right arm. She
glanced at me, studying me carefully. I supposed that she was a
nurse: just like this room, she too was dressed in all white.
White apron, white shoes, white pants, white everything. I
shuddered as I saw that blood stained her apron, and with
horror, I knew it was fresh due to the red fluid's brightness.
It had not yet faded into a rusty brown like older blood stains
should, and I knew that it was Annabelle's.
"Lilith Roberts?" asked the nurse, smiling weakly at me was
she moved on to the long gash in Annabelle's left arm.
"Yes ...?" I croaked, my voice hoarse.
"You seem to be fine, not too much damage ... except for
your head," she pointed to my forehead with her index finger,
"but, your sister, however ..." - she was lost in though for a
moment, editing the sentence she had in mind - "is in a more
severe condition. We found the two of you in the entrance to the
woods, by your house, which burned to the ground. We ... we
found a burned body, and a corpse by you and Annabelle ... I'm
so sorry, Lilith." said the nurse, knitting her dark eyebrows
together.
"Lily," I corrected her. "Yes, Hailey inhaled too much
smoke, and she died. My mother ... she was still in the house
when it burned down. I lost consciousness before I could even
take a step to save her," I confessed, my voice quivering at the
end of my sentence.
There was no response from the nurse this time. But I knew
that she pitied me by the way she looked at me, like I was a
young child with no family. I only had Annabelle now, and that
was all. Hailey was dead. My mother was dead. And my father ...
I pushed the thought out of my mind. I had vowed not to
think about him.
I forced myself to close my eyes, forcing myself to drift
off into sleep. My world went black as I drifted off into my
dreams. And with any luck, I may for once have no nightmares.
* * * * *
My green eyes fluttered open at the sound of a heavy
footsteps on the white marble floor. This was without question
the doctor; he wore a white lab-coat, tan slacks, and a navy
button-down shirt underneath the thin white coat. He was
fair-haired with dark chocolate eyes, and medium skin that was
not too tan, nor too pale. Unlike me, who seemed vitamin D
deprived due to my unusual pallor.
"Lilith Roberts?" said the doctor, a slight smile pulling up
the corners of his mouth.
"Lily," I corrected him automatically, blushing, chagrin
flooding through me as I blurted out my nickname.
He ignored my correction.
"Well, Lilith, you had a few scratches on your head, and
you've been out for a few days," said the doctor, then trying to
cheer up the uncomfortable, grave atmosphere. "But, luckily, you
are in good shape now," he said with a smile, revealing bright
white teeth.
"And my sister?"
"She was in far worse shape, and she's recovering."
"How long was I out?" I demanded, keeping my expression
composed, and my voice betraying no emotion.
"About a week ... a little over a week," admitted the
doctor, frowning slightly.
"A week?"
"Yes ..." he confirmed through gritted teeth.
I decided to drop it. He wasn't going to give me any
details about exactly what happened. I sighed, and closed my
eyes, hoping to get out of this stupid hospital soon.
About a week ... a little over a week, the doctor's voice
echoed in my head. I scowled in my sleep, tossing and turning on
the white hospital bed.
But I wasn't stupid. I knew that my sister was on the brink
of death. And I knew that this was not Caribou Hospital in my
home state, Maine. I opened my eyes to look at a small screen in
front of me all the wall that read:[/font] [font=times new
roman]MARYLAND HOSPITAL.[/font]
[font=georgia] Why the hell was I in D.C.? I was sure that my
house had burned down in Caribou ... how had I gotten here,
anyway?
Questions swam in my mind as I lay strapped down on the
hospital bed, when I noticed that there was a deep gash in my
leg. I didn't know for sure how it got there; after all, I had
been unconscious ... hadn't I? Wasn't my encounter with Angel
Hailey a dream? Or was it real?
But I recognized the deep gash; the marks of a dagger
slicing through my skin.
Wonderful. Some psycho stabbed me while I was asleep.
On the far right corner of the screen, the date read:[/font]
[font=times new roman]NOVEMBER 21, 2204.[/font]
[font=georgia] Great. I was out for two weeks. Last time I
checked, it was the seventh of November.
But the question seemed to hang in the air: why was I in the
capitol of America? Of all people, why me, the biggest nobody in
the country?
Maybe they thought I had set the fire?
I shuddered at that thought; President Kain usually executed
murderers on the spot.
So much for "land of the free."
America had fallen in World war IV, when Kain took over. She
changed the laws, changed everything ...
Now, America wasn't really the land of the free, which it
was supposed to be. It was more like the land of step out of
line and you will be killed.
So, if you broke a law, you get killed, tortured, or Kain
kills someone you love. No matter what law you break, those are
the three penalties.
* * * * *
I was lucky to get out alive.
Turns out that some idiot claimed that I had set the fire on
the house. That I was insane, that I meant to burn down the
whole neighborhood. But, luckily Annabelle woke up and claimed
that she saw a shadowy figure with a lighter outside of their
home thirty minutes before the house caught fire. So they were
letting me go - for once. But if I messed up again, they would
kill Annabelle.
And I swore to god I wouldn't let that happen.
To make things worse, Annabelle and I were being shipped of
to some family, where we would live until we were sixteen.
I shuddered. Just thinking of turning sixteen terrified me.
One year, and I would be in living hell ...
When you turn sixteen, you get sent the training camp in
D.C., where you would be trained to be a killing-machine, stay
there until you turn eighteen. At least you get one month of
summer off to visit family, but other than that, it's a
full-time camp. This was the hell I would go to next year, on my
birthday ...
My theory why they did this to children was that Kain
thought that this training was necessary due to all of the crime
in the country, and if America ever went to war, she could just
force citizens into war. At least, that was my theory. Other
people had other theories, but I also suspected that Kain was
preparing for something, but what?
I sat on a plane with Annabelle asleep in the seat next to
me. I looked out the window to see the puffy white clouds
rolling in, the deep blue sky gradually darken to a light
violet. The golden sun started the sink below the horizon,
dragging down pools of scarlet-red with it. All around the
golden ball of light, the sky had changed to a vivid shade of
orange that lightened to a lovely pink, that blended with the
soft violet. By the time the plane had landed, the sky had
darkened into an inky black, but with swirls of glowing
silvery-white stars that had appeared once all of the light from
the sun had vanished.
I opened the polished mahogany door to my new home ... my
foster home.
The living room that Annabelle and I had just entered was
vast, with ivory walls. The carpet was a light taupe, with a
velvety texture. A deep red three-seat sofa stood in front of a
television that was built into the wall. There was a wicker
rocking chair on both sides of the couch, rocking chairs that
appeared to be fragile antiques. A wide, tall mahogany bookshelf
was pressed against the lightly colored wall, filled with
countless novels. Just staring at this bookshelf made me bored.
I prepared myself to meet a boring librarian, and hate living
here for the next year. 'Course, I wouldn't have to put up with
any of this crap for long. But I'd have to put up with brutal
training and torture in return.
A woman stood in an arch in parallel to me, where a door
should be, but it seemed as if the door had been ripped off of
its hinges. The woman walked in an elegant fashion, wearing a
tight black knee-length skirt with a white blouse that had too
many frills. She wore chocolate brown high heels on her smallish
feet, with black fish-net tights. Her sandy-blond hair was
pulled up into a tight bun on top of her oval-shaped head, with
curly tendrils of sandy hair on the sides of her face. Her skin
was cream-colored, with cheeks flamed with color, and a few
freckles across her nose. Light pinkish-red lipstick covered her
perfect full lips, and behind them was a full complement of
pearly white teeth. She could have been a lipstick model if her
face was as perfect as her mouth. As she smiled at Annabelle and
I, I suddenly felt uneasy; it was like ... she was waiting for
somebody.
A girl that looked my age appeared behind her, and lightly
nudged the woman away, approaching us.
She was breathtaking.
The girl looked like she was straight from a swimsuit
magazine, perfect body shape, perfect everything. She was the
kind of girl that made any other girl in the room take a hit on
their self-esteem. Her skin was a deep tan, and made her mother
look alabaster white next to her. Wavy golden hair fell about
five inches from her shoulders, the ends curling into flawless
ringlets. Her eyes were soft milky brown orbs, with long,
sweeping lashes hanging off of her eyelids. It was obvious that
she was wearing foundation on her perfect, super-model face, and
glittery gold eyeshadow on her eyelids and a little below her
light brown brows. Mascara lengthened and thickened her already
perfect lashes. Her lips were colored a deep, vibrant shade of
shell-pink, obviously lipstick on her perfect lips. Hate ghosted
in her dark eyes as she stared at me. Then I realized how long I
had been staring. I flushed in embarrassment, looking away. No
doubt she had noticed my scrutiny. She stared at me like I had
just stabbed her with a pencil, then I realized that it must
have looked like I had been glaring at her.
I could admit, though, that just looking at her made me see
a flaw in myself, and it made me jealous. I had never noticed
anybody before, not like this. I had never had a reason to be
jealous of anyone. Mostly because no one at school knew who the
hell I was.
But I could tell that we would be enemies. We even looked
opposite. I was pale-skinned, dark-haired, with light eyes. This
super-model girl was tan, fair-haired, and dark-eyed. And about
ten times more beautiful than me. So this was my new adopted
sister.
Great.
So I would show up at school with her. I grimaced at the
thought of me even talking to a girl like her. She just looked
like a brat, like a popular, rich brat. The kind that were the
queen bees of the school.
But Annabelle seemed not to notice her at all. Instead, she
had already raided the bookshelf, pulling out any fantasy books
she could find. I sighed and let a smile spread across my face.
The cover of the book in her hands was pink, purple, and blue,
as if the sun was setting, with white clouds drifting about. A
beautiful, graceful ivory unicorn stood on its rear, as if it
were about to strike. I could make out the title of the book:
Beauty in the Flesh.
Seemed like a story about a princess and a unicorn.
Annabelle's favorites. I chuckled quietly, cautious, and making
absolutely sure that Blondie and her mother - I assumed -
couldn't hear my shrill laughter. Annabelle's silence startled
me, mostly because I knew that she was still processing that we
had lost Hailey and Mom. First dad, then Allison ... was it ever
going to end? Would I lose Annabelle, too? Or would I be next?
I guessed that my family was meant to die. That our line was
meant to fade away, crumble into nothing when the last of us
died.
But I had to make sure that Annabelle survived. I would take
a bullet over her, take a dagger for her, take the pain for her,
take death for her ...
"What's your name?" asked Blondie, raising a perfect
eyebrow.
"Lily," I growled in response, the smallest trace of a scowl
on my face.
"Really? The adoption form said Lilith," hissed Blondie, a
smirk on her perfect, beautiful face.
"It's Lily. Suck it up and live with it. End of discussion,
Blondie."
"Blondie?"
"Well, I have nothing else to call you," I snapped.
"My name's Katie, FYI. Katie Payne."
"Is your middle name Isa?" I snickered.
"Very funny," spat Katie bitterly.
"Hey, Blondie - I mean Katie - what do they call a blond
that dyes her hair brown?"
"I've heard this one!" she growled, refusing to answer.
"Artificial intelligence."
That did it. That left her quiet ... for now. And now, I
would just have to endure being around this brat every day. But,
with any luck, I wouldn't have to share a room with
her.[/font][/spoiler]
[center][font=georgia]sneak peak ;;
annabelle dies in the third book.[/font][/center]
#Post#: 2693--------------------------------------------------
Re: the runaway - - [book]
By: Rebelia. Date: February 5, 2013, 10:34 pm
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[center][font=georgia][shadow=black,left]J A M E S M A S O
N.[/shadow]
chapter two.[/font][/center]
[spoiler][font=courier]JUST MY LUCK.[/font]
[font=georgia]I was going to share a room with my new "sister,"
Blondie. The room I entered was the most horrifying thing I'd
ever seen: everything was pink.
The walls, the two queen-sized beds, the carpet, the
curtains, even the furniture was pink! A large collection of
makeup was laid out across the dresser, with just enough space
for a big box of jewelry. A hot pink boa hung on the top of a
mirror that hung above the wall, horrifying me again due to the
reflection of the large room. The smell of flowers, makeup, and
other perfumes lingered in the room, as if Blondie had sprayed
every million square inch of this room with the strongest of
perfumes. The beds matched, the sheets a light pink, pillows
deep pink and stuffed with feathers, and a pink leopard print
bedspread had been laid out across the queen-size beds. I
grimace as I continued to examine my new room.
It was like living hell. Just me and Blondie.
Wonderful.[/font][/spoiler]
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