The Beginning a.k.a The Day I Saw My Stalker

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Despite the few comments (Thanks megs) that this story has been getting, I have decided to pursue it, undeterred! If you absolutely hate this story, please tell me so I don't make a fool of myself by continuing to post a story that no one will ever read. 

By the way, I have another story that you guys may want to read (prepare yourselves, its a vampire story) so if you want to learn more about that, post in the comments below.

By the way, by the way, I'm thinking of starting a YouTube Vlog Series (I doubt that it will ever happen) so if I decide to do that I'll let you guys know. 

Anybeach balls, on with the story!

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Chapter 1

"Brooklynn Anne Tabitha! You are going to be late to school if you don't hurry up!" my mother screeched from the bottom of the stairs.

She was was standing there, ratty bathrobe on and curler in hand as she twisted a piece of her hair around and around the iron. I paused a moment to watch smoke curl lazily up from her brown strand, but shut my mouth, preferring to laugh at her burnt hair than warn her about it.

"I've got time!" I called down to her as I dashed back and forth between the bathroom and my room as I raced to get ready for school. 

She looked at the clock overhanging the living room T.V. 

"Two minutes, to be exact!"

I stuck my tongue out at my reflection as I finished applying my eyeliner. Large grey eyes stared back at me, ringed by a layer of eyelines too thick for my pale skin. Despite my best coaxing, nothing would make my eyes pop. On any given day, during the summer, during the winter, whatever, my eyes always looked like something had taken a vaccum and sucked the color out of my eyes. Where that color was floating, I had no clue, but it was somewhere, just out of my reach.

I twisted my unruly blonde hair up into a lazy bun and threw on my black jacket over my shirt and skinny jeans. I checked my reflection once last time before I popped a piece of gum in my mouth and grabbed my backpack.

"Coming, mom!" I yelled as I gave one last tug on my hair-bun, slung my backpack on my shoulder and flew down the stairs at record speed, landing two inches in front of her nose.

She didn't even flinch.

I grabbed the money my mom had in her hand and headed toward the door, turning myself around before I made it completely over the threshold. I smacked myself on the forehead, as I raced back upstairs, snagging my drawing pad and pencils from on my desk and stuffing them in backpack alongside notebooks and crushed pencils.

I flew back down the stairs and threw open the door, bounding out before I remembered something else I forgot.

"What about your breakfast?" my mom called after me as I raced down the street. 

My footsteps crunched on frost-covered grass as I skipped through the yards of the run-down old houses surrounding mine, trying to make it to the bus stop before the bus did. My breath fogged out in front of my face as I ran, hopping over small fences and knee-high hedges. I had to use the city bus to get to school every day because the school bus didn't run this far out, and because my mom wouldn't let me get a car.

Living out on the manor house really sucked sometimes - especially times like this where it was 32 degrees out and I was running late. Other times, I really loved it; most of that due to the fact that my sister's every memory was practically built into the walls of the house. 

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