My love means your death - Part 1 -

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Sarcastic Rayne is sixteen years old, and doesn’t talk... but by choice. Because whenever she gets emotionally attached to someone, they die a mysterious death. She has resorted to the life of a mute... until the she meets the new kid.

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My name is Rayne. My real name is actually Skyler, Skyler Rayne Daniels. Haven’t talked since I turned eight. Go ahead, ask me why. Go ahead, ask. Well I can’t tell you. Because I don’t talk. Remember?

I only think. And I keep that to myself. Because I have a terrible secret… anyone that I become close to dies. Mysteriously. It started when I was about two. Probably, since that’s the first death. Right when I was beginning to actually develop feelings, not just need for survival, but actual feelings for mommy and daddy… BOOM. Plane crash. Out of the blue. They were the only people that died because of the way the plane hit the ground. The pilot had just enough time to slow down the plane so nobody should get hurt. But some lady’s computer flew out of her hand and hit dad on the head. Mom had a heart attack. That’s what they say, anyways.

Then I was shipped off to Nevada, to live with my aunt. She raised me until I was seven. Then, BOOM. Shot. Drive by. Dead. But not how you would think. Actually, her coffee was the thing that got shot. It poured hot coffee on her lap and she kind of spazzed I guess. She wasn’t paying attention and went off into the other lane. She got hit by the car coming from the opposite direction. Died instantly.

Do you want to know how I know this? Yes? I thought you might. When the person I know is about to die, I get terrible headaches. Then I zone out, and I’m sucked into the place where the person is about to die. For instance, I was in the car with my Aunt. I had tried to take over the wheel when she poured coffee on herself, but it’s as if I am a ghost. She doesn’t know I’m there, screaming for her to pull over the car and get back in her lane. I’m just the passenger, riding along for their death. Nice.

I was then sent to my Grandma, down California. It was a nice change of scenery after Nevada. I loved my Grandma. That was, until of course, a tragic turn of events occurred. I was in my classroom, about nine years old doing a presentation on something. All of a sudden, I fell to the floor with my head in splitting pain. After a minute where I thought I was most certainly going to die, my ‘vision’ occurred. I was walking with grandma, pleasantly in her old Victorian home. She was going to water the plants outside, a daily task. I saw in slow motion a drop of water fall from her watering can. She walked down the hall towards her huge awkwardly positioned grandfather clock. “Grandma NO!” I shouted, but of course she can’t hear me. She hummed a sad tune as she walked. She slipped on the water. This caused the great grandfather clock to fall.

Her time was up.

 - Flashback to age 8 –

I awoke to my class and teacher standing around me. My teacher, Mrs. Ellis, was in hysterics.

“Call the ambulance! Get the school nurse down here! For Christ’s sake somebody DO SOMETHING!”

she yelled at the eight and nine year olds. I felt dizzy, but I was scared to death and didn’t want my teacher to feel the same way.. I slowly sat up.

“It’s ok Mrs. Ellis. Really I’m ok. I just… needed to use the bathroom.” I told her innocently. She looked at me for a moment, trying to decide whether to send me to the nurse or the bathroom.

“Go to the restroom, honey. Then I’m going to take you to the nurse.” Apparently the woman had no choice making skills.

“Ok Mrs. Ellis, but really, I’m ok.” I told her. She patted my back and sent me to the bathroom. But, unfortunately, I couldn’t get out the door before I heard,

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