Chapter 3

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Dedicated to HannahBandy for the Amazing cover on the side :D Seriously, its awesome!!

Chapter 3

8 Years Later

I turned to the side and reached for my alarm clock, yanking the cord from its socket, making it turn off. It had last read six thrity-six AM. It was too early to be getting up but I knew that if I wasn’t out that door in the next ten minutes then I’d be paying for it later. I only had thirty or so minutes left before sunrise and I wasn’t going to risk running in the sun again.

Last time I didn’t make it home in time my parents had to pick me up on the side of the street. I couldn’t walk, much less run, home. Talk about déjà vu.  

Walking to my drawer, I pulled out my purple shorts, a black muscle shirt, and then put on a pair of running shoes. Grabbing my iPod last I headed outside and I was out of the door in less than four minutes.

I set my iPod to play my favorite bands and then I was off. This was my usual routine. Wake and fight with my alarm clock, get up and get dressed, grab my iPod, and then off to run three miles every morning. It had become my norm for the past two years.

When I was fourteen I wanted to join the cross country team so badly but my parents were against it. They said it would be bad for my health so I never got the chance to compete. So instead I took up running in the mornings before the sun would come up. It doesn’t bother me anymore because I’ve realized that its always so peaceful right before the sun rises and I’ve actually come to love this time of day—Even if it did come with the price of waking up early

Making my usual rounds, I came across a house with a sign saying for sale and red tape trying to cover it saying 'sold'. I guess someone had finally bought the ratty old house.

As far as I could tell the house has been up for sale for over two years now. No one even took notice of the old house let alone buy it because it looked as if it would fall apart as soon as you touched the door knob. I guess someone was finally brave enough, or stupid enough, to buy it.

Not giving much thought to it I kept running. After hitting my halfway mark, which was exactly one-point-five miles from my house (yes, I measured it), I turned around and starting running back home.

This time when I was passing the sold house I saw a moving truck had parked in front. Now I know every instinct in my body said I should be heading back home before sunrise, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to go. So I sat under the nearest tree to the house and pretended to rest.

People were spilling out from the house towards the moving truck trying to get the furniture out of the truck and into the house. There were about five men carrying stuff inside. It was all typical stuff you’d have in a home: a couch, table, chairs, tv, boxes of varying sizes.

Bored from not seeing anything that caught my attention I got up and was about to start jogging home when a guy, around my age, stepped out of the house. Even from far away I could tell he was tall. He was built too. The way he held himself seemed so perfect and with every step he took he looked even more perfect. He had short dark brown hair that seemed to shine where the sun hit it.

“The sun? Oh crap, it’s already…” looking down at my iPod it read, “Seven forty-five! Ugh, I didn’t realize I was here so long. If I stick to the shade and walk slowly maybe I can make it.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but can I ask why you’re talking to yourself?” Mr. Perfect asked. I hadn’t realized he had come out of the moving truck holding a large statue of a dog and was staring at me.

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