Chapter one

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I have spent a joyous amount of work on this book, and being able to see the amount of views go up every day, and hear everyone's feedback has made it all the more easier for me to have the passion and dedication that was needed to finish this book. So as you continue to read this story keep in mind it hasn't been edited yet, it has a very low amount of views, but it also has a lot of hard work and effort. Though it may seem like it was sloppily written, and half the time it was, the entirety of it was made into a genuinely grand plot line that adds up around the time you get to the end. So enjoy readers ❤️ and please, leave comments and leave a vote once in a while.

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I never really thought reality mattered much. It seemed like days passed by and moments never really lingered for a long time. Everyday was an endless repeat of itself. Get up, learn, study, go to sleep. I had no joy in my own reality.

I was always in my own world. It was a curious one, with lots of famous boy bands and love stories, it was filled with lust and hope. All of which I could never find in a normal life. So I'd day dream about all these things and pretend they were real.

Even as I grew into an adult I kept my habits alive. During the day I hid them, and during the night I pulled it out and expressed it. I think that's the only thing that I really held onto as I got older.

It was a complicated story. One between me and and the inexplicable. At the time, I was only 22, and under an extremely unusual amount of stress. I came home from college every day with a painful cold sore, and a ton of homework. I was studying and trying my hardest in college, while there was a certain part of me screaming that something was particularly wrong with that scenario.

I had been going to college for a future writing career. I loved everything about it, creative writing, scripts, poetry, or just books, but then I felt that strong sensation dying. I was faced with an undeniable writers block, which can be career ending.

with this in mind, I was scared. I had no compassion towards any of the several topics to write about, and with that, I was afraid that writing wasn't going to kick off for me when I was counting on it the most, my future. My whole life depended upon this career, and I felt as if I was failing myself for not being able to do it.

Even though I had been really depressed about this feeling, I hadn't expressed these thoughts to my family and friends. It would of hurt too much to watch the disappointment mold onto their faces. It all was painful, even as i chose to ignore the problem over the next few months.

2 months before the end of college, I had to attend a weekend back home. My parents 25th anniversary was coming up, and instead of celebrating it with just each other, they wanted the family over for a nice dinner. I could of easily gotten out of it, but something inside me screamed that it was time to come home. So that Friday night I made the two hour drive back East. On the way, I had the radio on low and my mind drifted off into it's own world again. It was deep thoughts about when I was younger. Ever since I was 10 years old I wanted to be an author, and since then I'd written several books, but I never published them. They'd been hidden in bins below my bed and they were filled with several notebooks and journals. So I decided in that moment, that when I got to my parents house I'd make a point to look through them.

After determining this my thoughts drifted away and I concentrated on the road rather than what crisis I was going through.

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"Don't you freaking dare! OH HELL NO! Get your puny little ass away princess Peach!!!" Damien yelled at the top of his lungs as he yanked the wii remote side to side while trying to push the pink car away.

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