Introduction

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Readers, 

This story was first written seven years ago, my writing has improved since then as you'll notice in later chapters. This whole story is currently under editing process, please read at your own risk and know many drug references will be made. Not for the younger audiences, aimed for those who are open-minded and wanting a change from average cliche stories. By the way, you guys rock my socks off. Editors wanted.


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 "Be my angel and set me free, before I am trapped by this life of misery..."

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"Pass me the bong, will you babe?"

The voice awoke me with a start, causing the vodka bottle in my hand to fall and land with a startling crash to the floor. A loud sound could be heard as glass shattered on the tile. At least it was empty. Surveying my surroundings, I found my current location was my boyfriend Antonio's room. I sat up in his bed while the sheets cascaded around me. Had I passed out? The slight headache I had added a yes to that hypothesis. I looked up at my boyfriend, nick-named Tony, as he hovered above me with concern etched on his face.

I was busy having a lustful dream about my beloved and there he suddenly was, the angelic force surrounding him lulled me into his frantic embrace.  

"Babe, you alright? Did you pass out on my bed?"

Well, at least he asked if I was alright, although it was kind of obvious I had passed out. I smiled at up his dark chocolate eyes, the Hispanic accent that naturally rolled off his tongue always made me tingle with excitement. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Where have you been?"

He smirked and ran his hands through his black slicked down hair. He had a guilty look on his face and I wondered what he had been up to to elicit such an uncharted response. 

"I went over to Jordan's again to play his X-box. I may have instigated another fight with his brother though."

He yanked at his white tank top and I noticed it had obvious blood stains scattered about on the worn material. His silver chain necklace hung from his neck and his black baggy cargo pants held a stain on them as well. I raised my eyebrow at him and I knew he was about to defend himself for his absence.

"Hey Angel, you should be proud of me, girl. I won for ya."

He gave me that cocky smile of his. I stared at him in disbelief. Inside I was raging.

"You mean you left me here alone after we had been drinking?"

I could already guess what he was going to say next. Something along the lines of, "Oh, I just thought you were sleeping" or, "I was way too stoned." 

"Babe, I honestly thought you were sleeping. There's no way I would've left you here alone, passed out drunk," he said while tracing the tip of his finger down the length of my jawline. 

"And you just happened not to notice the empty vodka bottle in my hand? Wow," I retorted.

I knew this little dispute of ours would soon dissolve; but he always found ways to make me question our relationship. We'd been dating for several months now, and I began taking notice of small signs of discomfort on my end. It was nothing big, no need for red flags or anything yet. I recalled him saying, "I love you" only after the first week we started dating. Not only that, but sometimes he would grab my hand or wrist sharply if I agitated him. I decided not to do anything about it until something serious happened as the way I felt around him was almost an unnatural inclination to have more of him. And for now, he was the one person I looked forward to seeing every day.

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