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       #Post#: 2407--------------------------------------------------
       the runaway - - [book]
       By: Rebelia. Date: January 30, 2013, 10:43 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [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
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [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
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [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]
       *****************************************************