Prologue

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A/N: The beautiful cover for this fiction was created by the lovely SugaWithThatTae. She has some amazing covers, and some amazing stories too! Be sure to check out How To Be A Hoe and Sexually Inclined, two of my personal all time favs!

            The truth. I am not the kind of woman the world desires me to be. At 23 years of age I really couldn't be said to fit into any of the molds I was supposed to. I didn't go to college, opting instead to work for my only friend and her family. I earned enough to survive, if barely. But my friend needed me. Or her family needed me.

To be honest my dreams were unattainable, at least this is what I had always believed. Sarah had nice, obtainable dreams... Mostly. However, her parents needed the extra help with their diner, and so I put on the apron, so that Sarah could put on the cap of her dreams.

My life... had been the stuff of nightmares. Despite that I couldn't be said to be full of anger either. I hated nothing more than the "victim game". I wasn't bitter, nor was I really particularly sad.

I think that numb would be a better description. Unlike so many others of my age, I often felt as if I was stuck in some sort of limbo. Unable to step forward, and yet refusing to look back.

           I finally managed to close the restaurant for the night, keys jangling as I locked the squeaking glass door and silently reminded myself to pick up some WD40 to fix aforementioned squeaking.

I peered at the night sky, briefly admiring the beauty of the twinkling stars and the wan, shimmering moon.

"Wouldn't it be so nice" I thought to myself "if the world was half as beautiful a place as the sky? Perhaps... Perhaps then I could really and truly be free".

With a benumbed sigh I climbed the flimsy rusted steps to my apartment above. I might not get paid a whole lot, but at least I had a space that was wholly mine. Part of the package.

It was a rundown studio, but I had internet. Getting internet had been a bitch and a half, but it was also necessary. In my free time, what little of it there was to be had, I wrote poetry and shared it online. It wasn't as if I had a huge following or anything, mostly it was therapeutic.

The room was small and open. Counters lined the rest of the wall not occupied by the front door, and above those were rickety cabinets. Although I had a sink, there was no stove, only a microwave sat atop a small fold-up card table hugging the left wall. My twin sized bed was pushed against the wall, the headboard pressed flush against the table. Beside the bathroom door was my most treasured possession of all. An old and plain desk, upon which sat my laptop.

After an unenthusiastic perusal of my shabby living accommodations I stepped through the door frame and locked it behind me before collapsing onto my bed after five long strides. I didn't even bother to change my clothes, and instead only pulled out my cellphone and checked for any messages or missed calls. There were none.

I really thought that Sarah would have called me or texted me by now. I hadn't heard from her in months. Sarah and I had been best friends for what felt like forever to me. I wasn't exactly the most social person. She always said that it was trust issues.

"How will you ever make friends if you can't open up to people?"

I'd been asked that question far more often than I really wanted to be by her.

In high school we'd done everything together. Mostly because the girl had attached herself to me when she realized that I simply ignored her. Slowly but surely Sarah had become a very important person to me. After assuring myself that she was probably just busy I tossed my phone onto the bed with every intention of rolling over and getting some much-needed shut eye. But that was when I heard it. The notification alert that changed my life.

~MYoon3 has sent you a friend request~

ACCEPT or DENY 

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