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by Faithy on Thu Sep 13, 2007 12:15 am
Shifting her gaze towards Antonio, Kelieahn arched a brow at his change of demeanor. He was frightened of Gregory, which unnerved her slightly. Sliding her bottom lip between her teeth, Kel chewed upon it gently, obviously deep in thought. Even as Antonio suggested that she could sleep in his spare bed and that they should leave Gregory to his business, Strider couldnāt move. It wasnāt fear necessarily that kept her stationed in one place, but something deeper. Memories perhapsā¦ of a time unknown to her young soul. The urge to assist him in plotting was long gone, chased away by what was surging through her mind.
Moving her attention towards Gregory, Kelieahn bit down hard upon her bottom lip, blood cascading down her chin. Stepping backwards until her back was planted against the wall Kel shook her head back and forth, her eyes wide in disbelief. It wasnāt trueā¦ it was just a nightmare. She was having a nightmare while awake, that had to be it. Standing in front of her wasnāt Gregory or Antonio, but a group of men, advancing upon her like she was some sort of meat. They all had alcohol in their hands and a gleam in their eyes. Behind them stood a group of people, not part of the men, but connected in some way. They were demanding that a rather familiar individual go along with what they were about to do.
Holy hellā¦ she looks like meā¦
Clenching her fists tightly against her sides as the group yanked her outside of the cabin; Kelieahn was left wondering what the hell was going on. The men in front of her finally disappeared although she could still smell their aftershave. The scent made her sick to her stomach, but the teen managed to keep from throwing up. Returning her gaze towards Antonio, Strider moved to where he was at, grabbing hard onto his hand. Jerking the boy towards the door that was away from Gregory, she vacated the cabin as fast as possible.
āWhereā¦ where do you liveā¦ Antonioā¦?ā
To say she was shaken up was most definitely an understatement. The thought of going home with him didnāt help her nerves any, but it was obvious that going home would be even worse. Curling up against him, she held onto his body for warmth, nothing more. Suddenly shivering, it was apparent just how unsettled life had gotten.
"...la maniĆØre vraie au coeur d'un homme est de six pouces de mĆ©tal entre ses nervures"
The worst part is... I would still die... for you.
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