Introduction

This is like the prolouge and little story on the back of the book put together, its a little different that usual but I thought it would be fun

      The story I am about to tell you isn’t an easy one. There isn’t a happy ending, the beautiful girl doesn’t get the handsome guy by defeating the odds and true love prevailing beating all that was against them. Love is created and broken, and friends are lost. Enemies created. This story is not for the faint heart ( honestly it’s not even for anyone that has a heart to begin with). Please know that this is a true story. Me telling you this alone could get me in trouble if I’m caught, But people need to know what happened that year, this needs to be shared! 

     

     My name is Kitten frances Smith, this is how I died on my birthday. 

 

     Before you read my story I need you to know a few things. My name is Kitten, yes Kitten. No its not a nickname or I didn’t change my name, my mother named me Kitten. Please don’t ask why because I rather not tell you the story, its to insulting to my self and my mother...Anyway I’m a 15 turning 16 year old Junior, I’m ‘gifted‘ in the english language and science so I skipped a grade my freshman year. Making me a 16 year old going into my senior year.   

       I’m going to tell you something that might explain why my birthday was such an odd day for me. I have never believed in anything special, I don’t  believe in God or mystical creatures, mother nature , anything like that. I like things that make sense, like science and laws of physic, but my mom is another story. She always loved animals and nature and magic and all that mumbo jumbo, its all bull to me. My mother used to always to tell me the same story over and over when I was a child. When she was camping out in the mountains somewhere she would sleep in this small tent with four other people and lets just say they used every inch of that excuse of tent. One night right before the sun broke the horizon and brought daylight my mom looked out this little slit in the tent and watched as the sun raised up, and she tried to convince me that in the first few seconds that the sun hit the cold night everything around her lived differently. Almost like there was a different part of time that lived their life for that few seconds, as if the breaking of the two different times created something else in the world. 

     I would always nodded as if I was interested in my crazed mothers stories but the older I got the less I could fake it. Soon I was so fed up with this women’s fairy tales I told her that I never believed in her story. I never heard that story again, and I never saw that same smile my mom had on her face as she told her stories, and she never has that twinkle in her eye. Now all I see is a serious business women who married a stiff three piece suit. I know I did this to my mom, its not like I don’t like this part of her, but there's a small part of me that misses that hippie like mother I once had. 

 

                         But for some reason....I miss that story most of all

 

     So even after years of being perfectly fine with living a normal life as a teenager, how come I get this weird feeling about my sixteen birthday? I know that its the day when your supposed to take that next step into adult hood and things are supposed to change  for me, but no one was expecting this, especial for my fait. 

Author's Note

dont tell me about grammer because im coming back to read everything over again later, I know there are spelling issues.