Chapter 1
October, 1964
I lied awake on my bed.
I couldn’t sleep.
My mind was wandering, racing to different topics at the same time. I couldn’t stay on one subject in my mind for আরো than ten seconds. I was restless.
Just then, out of nowhere, I remembered something that I particularly didn’t want to remember. But I did anyway. It was something that I hated thinking about, and something that I thought about all the time. I got up, clad in only a pair of jeans, and walked over to my closet and turned on the light. I pulled down old, dusty boxes and yellowed papers off of the closet’s shelf. I searched until I found what I was looking for: 198 papers that were bound into a story. A book. It wasn’t mine. I didn’t write it. My old friend Johnnie Gatlyn did. She wrote it, and I was the only one who had ever read it.
I remember Johnnie telling me about it one time. She told me she wrote a book and she wanted me to read it. So I did.
Johnnie had always wanted to write a book and প্রকাশ it and become an author. She didn’t care if she became famous অথবা not. She just wanted her stories out there. But she never got to প্রকাশ the story that I was holding in my hands. So now I had it. And I was the only one who knew about it.
I was the only one she ever told. She never shared her stories অথবা poems অথবা songs with other people. Nor her drawings. Only me. I was the only one she had ever trusted. I wish I could thank her for trusting me.
I slowly sat down on the edge of my bed, careful not to wake my older brother, and stared at Johnnie’s story. It stared back at me, its dirty, dusty face masked with inked words. I felt tears forming in my eyes and hurriedly brushed them away. I didn’t want to cry. But, I’m sure if I had let the tears fall, I would’ve been sobbing instead of crying. I flipped through the pages and old memories of পাঠ করা this great story flushed through me. I remembered lots of it, even though the last time I read it was three months ago. Three long, lonely months ago.
I couldn’t ভালুক to remember that event that happened months ago, but it was too late. The memory was coming back.
I stared at the very first page and read the first line. I remember that line, I thought. And remembering that line made me remember Johnnie. Sweeter-than-honey Johnnie Gatlyn. I lied back down on my বিছানা and gave up. I let myself remember.
I didn’t want to. But remembering Johnnie also made me happy.
October, 1964
I lied awake on my bed.
I couldn’t sleep.
My mind was wandering, racing to different topics at the same time. I couldn’t stay on one subject in my mind for আরো than ten seconds. I was restless.
Just then, out of nowhere, I remembered something that I particularly didn’t want to remember. But I did anyway. It was something that I hated thinking about, and something that I thought about all the time. I got up, clad in only a pair of jeans, and walked over to my closet and turned on the light. I pulled down old, dusty boxes and yellowed papers off of the closet’s shelf. I searched until I found what I was looking for: 198 papers that were bound into a story. A book. It wasn’t mine. I didn’t write it. My old friend Johnnie Gatlyn did. She wrote it, and I was the only one who had ever read it.
I remember Johnnie telling me about it one time. She told me she wrote a book and she wanted me to read it. So I did.
Johnnie had always wanted to write a book and প্রকাশ it and become an author. She didn’t care if she became famous অথবা not. She just wanted her stories out there. But she never got to প্রকাশ the story that I was holding in my hands. So now I had it. And I was the only one who knew about it.
I was the only one she ever told. She never shared her stories অথবা poems অথবা songs with other people. Nor her drawings. Only me. I was the only one she had ever trusted. I wish I could thank her for trusting me.
I slowly sat down on the edge of my bed, careful not to wake my older brother, and stared at Johnnie’s story. It stared back at me, its dirty, dusty face masked with inked words. I felt tears forming in my eyes and hurriedly brushed them away. I didn’t want to cry. But, I’m sure if I had let the tears fall, I would’ve been sobbing instead of crying. I flipped through the pages and old memories of পাঠ করা this great story flushed through me. I remembered lots of it, even though the last time I read it was three months ago. Three long, lonely months ago.
I couldn’t ভালুক to remember that event that happened months ago, but it was too late. The memory was coming back.
I stared at the very first page and read the first line. I remember that line, I thought. And remembering that line made me remember Johnnie. Sweeter-than-honey Johnnie Gatlyn. I lied back down on my বিছানা and gave up. I let myself remember.
I didn’t want to. But remembering Johnnie also made me happy.
The পরবর্তি day, Meggan woke up at home.Another নেকড়ে like demons sat at the foot of her bed.She rubbed her eyes, it was still there."Wh- who are YOU?"Meggan asked scaredly."I'm Outsider."The demon said, then it wandered around.Every step it made shook the ground a bit.He walked through the wall, and didn't come back.
The car crash changed my life. It changed so much, that i'm not even living anymore. I walk the earth as a kinderd-spirit. Dead, forever. I follow my family sometimes. At one stage they actually thought they had a মাউস infestation. For the one hundredth time i'm sorry I broke your vase,Jannet. My daughter, she loves collecting china and other lovely trinkets and stuff like that. For a sixteen বছর old she does have a lot. But Mike on the other hand, he loves cars,wants to become a famous race car driver. I worry for him, making his dreams so young, I did too. And look where it got me! Dead in my husband's car right in front of my kids! Of course, that was many years ago. On the road to becoming a famous song writer.
Prologue
Randall regarded her with pride.His finest.Her skin was ebony-black,her eyes a sinister grey,hair pale,wintry white.She stared at him blankly,her tall,slender frame tense.Randall stroked her cheek and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ears.Lethal,she was.Designed to perfection for the task she was set.Despite the obvious arrogance in her gaze,he deemed her the best."Tell me,who are you?"he tested."Layla"she answered."And I?".
"Master."she said."Tell me,"he asked her,taking her large,clawed hands."how do আপনি use these..assets?"."To serve Master."Randall smiled."Good'he said."Very Good indeed.""How do আপনি do that,my lovely?"he purred.Her eys stared straight ahead."Kill"she whispered."Kill for Master"
Randall regarded her with pride.His finest.Her skin was ebony-black,her eyes a sinister grey,hair pale,wintry white.She stared at him blankly,her tall,slender frame tense.Randall stroked her cheek and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ears.Lethal,she was.Designed to perfection for the task she was set.Despite the obvious arrogance in her gaze,he deemed her the best."Tell me,who are you?"he tested."Layla"she answered."And I?".
"Master."she said."Tell me,"he asked her,taking her large,clawed hands."how do আপনি use these..assets?"."To serve Master."Randall smiled."Good'he said."Very Good indeed.""How do আপনি do that,my lovely?"he purred.Her eys stared straight ahead."Kill"she whispered."Kill for Master"