Hmm. Can you say,"EXCERPT"? (;

Okay, sorry about the weird name for the post. I didn't wanna be all,"Excerpt of______." That just sound borrringgg. Anyhow, today you'll be reading the first chapter in Kidnapped. If you're all,"What's this. . .?"

 I'll post the description first. I really, really hope y'all like this, because from Figment(The writing site I'm on[Used to be Inkpop]) people really seem to like it! :D I'm trying a new writing style on Kidnapped where my paragraphs are linked together. Yeah, so if it's crowded or anything, tell me. 

And you're probably wondering why I didn't post a Cover Contest for it, and that's because I had someone on Figment do it for me. I couldn't really find exactly what I wanted, so I asked someone to do it. I'll show the cover too.(:

 Cover:

Enjoy! 

Description:

Everyone thinks I'm dead. But they don't really know that I'm alive. They don't know that the person they found in the woods isn't me. And that guy they put in jail? He didn't kill me, he doesn't even know me. Well, I'm sure he does now, because I'm pretty famous around town as the girl who was kidnapped and killed. 

But like I said, I'm not dead. I'm fully alive, I'm healthy, and I am in love. You're probably wondering with who, because since I've been kidnapped, whoever sees me will automatically go to the police, right? Well, let me tell you. I'm in love with my kidnapper.

Chapter one: 

CHAPTER ONE: Past (November 12th, 2004)

I was eight years old when I was kidnapped. Dad had just left for work, and mom was teaching Nicholas, my older brother, how to use the washing machine. I couldn't take the noise, so I decided to go outside. I will never know if my mom heard me when I said that I was going outside, but I did try to tell her. I was playing with my little doll that I got as an early birthday present. My birthday was the next day. Anyways, while I was playing, I saw this beautiful dog walking down the street. My mother had told me many times before not to leave the yard, but there was something about this dog that made me just block that thought out and follow it. 

Every time I would get within a few feet of the dog, it would turn around and look at me for a moment before walking even faster. Finally, we reached the park. The dog ran back down the street minutes later, leaving me behind, all alone in the park. Not completely alone, though. There were a few mothers, maybe s father or two. Decided that I would go play on the swings, so I did. Suddenly, I had firm hands of someone pushing me on the swing. I hadn't thought anything of it at the time. I let him push me until I was so high I could touch the tree branch that was resting just above the swingset.

The man who was pushing me, who I now call Nathan, took hold of the chain that was connected to the seat. Him doing that sent me flying off of the swing, nearly breaking my arm. I remember him shouting,"Oh, sweetheart! Are you alright? C'mon, darling, let's go home and get your scratches cleaned up." 

I thought he was really going to take me home to help me. He didn't. He held my hand, walking me far away from my home. We went off of a road, into the country. I tried at least three times to take my hand from his, but his was too big and he kept his grip. We soon arrived in a very big field, a large SUV parked next to a small, withering tree. Nathan tightened his grip and began to kind of drag me toward the tree. By now I was crying, unaware of what could happen. A little boy, ten at the time, walked out from behind the tree with a rope in one hand, and duck tape in the other. 

They tied me up and stuck layers of duck tape over my mouth. I could barely breathe. "Aiden," Nathan laughed,"this is the one you wanted, right?" Aiden laughed with his father and nodded his head. He thanked his father, and did the "honor" of throwing me in the back of the car. I tried to scream, no words coming from my mouth, but tears streaming down my face. I soon ran out of energy and surprisingly fell asleep. When I woke up, Nathan was hauling me into a small cabin. The grass there was, and still is, turning brown. I've lived in this cabin most of my life, and have never seen that grass a beautiful green like the grass at my old home.

Anyway, the woods that the cabin was loacated at, was far, far away from where I'd lived, I soon learned. Not that I was able to go to town many times. Nathan lead me to a small room which walls were painted pink, my favorite color at the time. There, in the corner of the room laid a twin bed(which I still have), with a purple comforter with pink butterflies on it. A small bedside table, a lamp upon it, was right next to that twin bed. A dresser on the opposite side of the room. The only toy I had was my little doll.

But on that bed there was a little girl who looked like me.

She had wavy brown hair, green-brown eyes, and was tall, like me. I was scared how much she looked like me. We could have been related. She had tears in her eyes as she said,"W-what are you doing with her? Are we going to be friends--there will be two of us? I--she. . .you're not getting rid of me, are you?! Where will I go?" 

Nathan nodded his head at Aiden and Aiden pulled out a small pocket knife. "Follow me, Hannah," he said, holding his arm around her chest and the knife to her throat."Now." he pulled the doll from my hand and I cried and hollered.

She followed him and that was the last I ever saw her. A few months later, the police found her in the middle of the woods behind a little grocery store. They called my parents thinking that she was me. My parents took one look at the doll and just assumed she was me--no DNA tests. Nothing. And that was that. I was dead to them. Gone. Vanished. The entire crime was over. The man who people saw lingering around the grocery store was my killer. His hands were bloody. The Hannah's body was bloody. So was my doll.

~`~`~`~

As days, weeks, months, and years have gone by, I found myself feeling as though Nathan was my father and this was home. I developed a crush on Aiden that is now a healthy relationship. At first, I must admit, I would do anything to get away. If he took me out to town, I would try to scream and do anything to be noticed, unless Aidens hand wasn't clamped over my mouth. But as the days went buy, I noticed something: I'm never going to be able to leave. I'm here forever. Not that I mind. Although, I wouldn't mind going to visit my parents and tell them that I'm safe, okay, and well, alive. I hope to do that on my sixteenth birthday, with my new identity as Erica Blackstone, daughter of Nathan Blackstone. And Aiden just so happens to have the same last name.

Everything, as Nathan would say, is going to turn out perfect.

~`~`~`~

Present (November 12th 2012)

I laugh uncontrolably as Aiden stands over Nathan, re-dying his orange hair. Earlier today, Aiden was asked to dye Nathan's graying hair blonde. But they rinsed it too quickly and it turned bright orange. Now, after spending a while looking up how to get newly dyed hair color out of your hair(on our very, so very slow Internet, I might add), we're finally re-dying it. This is the only solution we could find that wouldn't involve bleaching his hair.

"Stop laughing, Erica," Nathan says, while laughing. 

"Sorry," I reply sheepishly. "It's just hilarious seeing you with red--I mean orange--hair!" I manage to lower my laughter to just a giggle. Nathan shakes his head, letting everything go like he always does. He takes everything so smoothly. He's a very mellow person. I stand up and walk over to Aiden. 

"I told you you should've let me dye his hair. Now see what you've done?" I say playfully as he squirts more hair dye onto his gloved hand. I kiss him on the cheek and walk back over to the uncomfortable couch I was just sitting on."I can fix anything I mess up, Erica." he smiles.

Now, let me tell you something about Aiden. He's one of those quiet people that never talk. But when they do everyone listens whether or not it's important. If he's talking about school, dinner, or his friends--anything. Everyone listens. He doesn't really have a problem talking around me, though. No, really. He won't stop talking when it's only me and him. He's like one of those little house things that I used to have. You press a button and it just won't shut up. But Aiden's cute when he won't stop talking, so it's all good. I smile.

Just thinking about Aiden makes me smile. I look at him, studying his amazing features. He's tall, probably six-foot-three. He has straight brown hair that falls over his eyes in that skater boy way. He also has these intriguing eyes that are dark blue, almost black. You see them and just can't stop staring. Plus, he's mine. Seriously, I still can't get this wrapped around my head. He's mine. We're dating. We have been for three years now. Somtimes, when I get angry at him(which is rarely), I want to run away. I get so angry that he chose me.

He chose me.

He was the one who pointed me out to his father. He wanted me. So whatever if we fight sometimes. He's never hurt me. I doubt he ever will. It's an hour later when Aiden's done with Nathan's hair. Aiden told me that he wanted to take me out for icecream since my birthday is tomorrow, so I'm changing my clothes, looking for something cute. Nathan gives me fifty dollars every month for clothes, so I have too much to choose from. I sigh, frustrated, and dig through my closet. I pull out a cute, casual camisol with a pink, brown, and red flower pattern on it. I pull a light brown cardigan too. Is it bad I don't remember buying any of these things?

I pull the camisol over my head with a huff. Well, this has gotten tighter since who-knows-when I last wore it, I think to myself. I dig out a pair of dark blue demin skinny jeans. 

"Erica," Adien calls,"ready to go yet?" 

I tell him that I'll be down in a minute and fish through a basket that's full of shoes. I pull out some strappy light pink sandals and quickly shove them on my feet. I walk out of my bedroom and into the hallway. I look on the walls and see the pictures that are on the walls. There are a few of me and Aiden on a beach. Me and Nathan, with Nathan's arm around my shoulders. Then, as I walk down the hallway, closer to the living room, the pictures change and I'm younger. Nathan's holding my hand and I'm staring at something with my mouth open slightly. 

A sudden feeling--I'm not sure what--runs through me. I try to think back to that day. My breath catches in my throat and my eyes fill up with tears. I remember I was looking at three people. A woman, a man, and a little boy. I can't specifically remember what they looked like, but I thought they were my parents. I'm not sure why I thought they were my parents, but I did. 

Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around to see Aiden."You okay?" he asks me. I can't read his expression.

I nod and smile at him."Yeah. Just looking at good times," we walk outside and we head to the car. Minutes later, we arrive at a small soft serve icecream joint called Icey's. We step out and my feet hits the hard, rocky gravel.  I step out of the car and shut the door. Aiden walks over to me and takes me hand in his. He holds it firmly.  My heart still flutters whenever he holds it. He guides me to the door and opens it for me, still not taking his hand from mine. It's cool in the icecream shop. My gaze flutters around the room. The walks are a baby blue and the tiles are white with blue specks in them.

It has little, gray round metal tables with matching chairs.

I look at Aiden,"I'll have a va--" Aiden cuts me off."I know," he says with a wink. I grin and excuse myself to go use the bathroom. On the way to the bathroom, you have to go through this little hallway, and there are two drinking fountains and above those are a bulletin board. On it, there's a white paper with the word "MISSING" written on it in black ink. Below the word, there's an aged picture of a girl.

And she looks just like me.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Hey! Hapy St. Patty's day! Make sure to wear something green or get pinched. (; Okay, first off, some neat facts about this St. Patrick:


Saint Patrick(hence the name) was a missionary who went to Ireland. He was born in Roman Britain to a rich Irish family. At the age of sixteen, Saint Patrick was kidnapped by Irish raiders. He was then taken captive and held as a slave. Some believe that he was being held somewhere around the west coast of Ireland. Possibly around Mayo, but nobody is sure of that.
Saint Patrick confessed that he was told by God in a dream to run away from where he's being held captive and go to a coast and go on a boat to return to Britain. When he returned, he quickly joined a church in Auxerre in Gual and studied to be a Priest.
In 432, St. Patrick said he was called back to Ireland to preach God's Word. After nearly 30 years of evangelism, he died on March 17, 461. According to tradition, he was buried at Downpatrick. There were more successful missions that when to Ireland, but Patrick was most known and the principle champion of Irish Christianity. His name is still held in the Irish church.
This was written by me, but I got my information from Wikipedia.


Did you know that originally, the color you wore on St. Patrick's day was blue? How cool. I honestly cannot tell you why people started the tradition of drinking on St.Patrick's day, seeing as thought he's a saint and all. Though, my guess is because it's been told that most people from Ireland drink.
I don't mean to bore you, so I will go onto something fun! The pole results for KIDNAPPED are in! Her previous name is Katherine(Kat) and her new name is Erica!
I would love to thank you all for participating in this poll, it means a lot(: Anyway, thanks guys, and happy St. Patty's day!


-Abbi.

Your Thoughts On My Blog's New Design And The Pluses Of Writing

Bonjour, lovelies! I know some of you are writers and some of you are not. So, I'm not going to make this entire post about the pluses of writing. Until then, the pluses:

Pluses:

•  You get to create a unique, fabulous story, and put whatever you want in it! How cool is that? I mean, you kind of design someone and their life. Give them their own personality. You give them life! You're kind of like a mother, you know? You're with them while they grow, go through their troubles(although, you kind of are starting their troubles. . .) with them, you help them become better--or worse--people.

• This one is my absolute favorite--you create your character! You picture what they look like in your mind and put it on paper(or the computer ;D). They could have blonde hair, red hair, black, brown, pink!, blue!, green!. I mean, c'mon people! You can really do anything with your character. Full lips? Thin lips? Chinese? Polish? English? French? Anything! I encourage y'all to have fun when you're writing. Do what you want, not something that you believe that you need to do to make something "good enough." Because, the truth is, it's good enough without all of that phooey people want you to put in your writing.

• Last, but of course not least, you have an experience when you write. You can see the stressfulness of writing, the fun of it, and the time it takes. The stress may not be what you want, but trust me, it will help. It will help you deal with future stress that may come when your book is being published. It helps shape you into a person.

Now, for what you non-writers are waiting for: more fun stuff. d:

Do you like the new design? I decided I should change it--to make it more professional-looking, ya know? I think it also has this little cute side to it too. Like, it looks professional-ish, but it still looks fun-ish. As you can see, I changed the font, and some of the colors. I also added an actual "Quote of the Day" so I don't have to keep changing it everyday(yes, that was me). What do you think of it? Too serious? Not serious enough?

Anyway, I'd also like to ask about the cover for "Kidnapped" I'm thinking I want her(she doesn't have a name yet) to be standing kind of in a dark background, with a man's hand over her mouth, with her having either a happy or a surprised expression on her face. What do you think? Feel free to critique my idea and share your ideas, guys.:] I'm open to them.

Thanks!,
Abbi.

Elizabeth Scott's books and a sneak peek!

Hello, darlingggggs! It's me here(duh). I got a flash of creativity last night. Well, more like a LONG time ago, but it's been dangling in my mind, and yesterday I actually wrote it! I'll give you the prologue at the end of this post. Anyway, I'd like to blog about Elizabeth Scott's books. I've read most of them(they have a lot at my library). I do believe that they're for most of you that are pretty, I guess, mature.

I suppose what I'm saying is that it has some. . .questionable language. Maybe not some scenes that y'all would feel comfortable reading. But, alas, she's a great writer. Each of her books have there own story. Each character is unique and special. She's very good at writing problems that teenage girls go through everyday.



If you'd like, you can check her out, but I suggest you get your parent's permission.

NOW FOR THE PROLOGUE:




Everyone thinks I'm dead. But they don't really know that I'm alive. They don't know that the person they found in the woods isn't me. And that guy they put in jail? He didn't kill me, he doesn't even know me. Well, I'm sure he does now, because I'm pretty famous around town as the girl who was kidnapped and killed. 
But like I said, I'm not dead. I'm fully alive, I'm healthy, and I am in love. You're probably wondering with who, because since I've been kidnapped, whoever sees me will automatically go to the police, right? Well, let me tell you. I'm in love with my kidnapper.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WOOOHOOOO! I hope you enjoyed that little sneaky peaky. (: And the blog post. I may post the first chapter of Kidnapped(that's what it's called!^^)soon. I'm pretty close to being done with it, because I wrote A LOT.

The results are in, and the winner is. . .

COVER NUMBER 1!

Woohoo! Go all the voters! Yay! How exciting? I would like to thank all of you for this. Y'all are too amazing. This means so much that you like them, and that you thought that they were good. To thank you all. . .I'm posting a poem. I know, you're probably groaning going,"Aw, man. I though it would be something good,"

On the bright(er) side, the second chapter on WAI? should be out soon-ish! I'm 2 pgs done with it, and I plan on making it about 7-10 pages long. Again, I would like to thank all of you who have supported me with these covers, and with my stories! Thanks again!

Okay, to warn you, I've never had an interest in poetry until I joined Inkpop. Something just. . .flowed. But, I must say, most of what comes out of my head is kind of depressing; not that I'm a depressing person or anything. I'm really not.(': Here I go, enjoy!

UNTIL THE END.

By: AbaGayle.

Dark.

It's a perfect day for a funeral,

dark and gloomy.

Rain is stained on the broken bricks,

and all love is lost.

Drenched in black, everyone is.

Eyes.

Covered in dark make-up,

when I cry,

My tears are black.

Perfect for the occasion.

Hate.

That you're gone.

Those times that we were together,

are all gone.

They are simply memories.

Not reality.

Fake.

Is what you did.

You faked our love.

You said that you'd never leave,

what about now?

Where are you?

Lost.

Is what I am

without you.

Tell me

please,

where you are.

Dead.

That is what I am,

because you are gone.

We were going to die together,

don't you remember?

Selfish.

Is what you are.

Ladies first,

you always said.

It was me who should

die first.

Dance.

You will do.

Dance,

dance with the Devil.

Forget. 

Forget me,

and I will try and forget you.

Cover help!

Hey, guys. So remember, like, two days ago when I posted the first chapter of Who Am I? Well, I have a cover, but I'm not such a fan of it, so I've been making some other ones. I have one problem, though: I can't choose. I need ALL of ya'll's help with this, okay? I need y'all to fire up the comments down there
                                                                                                                                               |
                                                                                                                                              V

Please and thank you. Okay, well here are the covers that I've made & put together:

My personal favorite is ^ one and

This one^

It would mean so much if you told me which ones you like and don't like. What I can add, what I can take away. I'll tally the votes on. . .next Friday. Okay, that means you have a week to vote! Hurry, hurry. (:

Thank you SO much, guys.<3

~Abbi.

Excerpt of Who Am I?

Hey, all! I know, I promised the first chapter of WHO AM I? yesterday. Unfortunately, I didn't get it up. I was quite busy. I'm surprised I even had time to post this! Anyway, I hope you enjoy. :]

 CHAPTER ONE.
"Danni!" My Mother shouted. I take out my headphones.
 "What?" I say, glaring at her. Her eyes are pleading for me to be a better daughter. By now, she should know not to disturb me while I'm listening to music. Usually, when I am, I'm thinking. Trying to find who I am. I told her that this is what I'm doing, finding who I am. She blew it off like it was nothing. Like I wasn't important. As you can see, our relationship isn't very good. When she doesn't reply, and goes back to vacuuming, I roll my eyes and clench my jaw. "What did you want, Mom?" I ask tightly. "I'd like to know."
She turns off the vacuume. "Really?" she wants to know. "Do you really?" She clenches her fists, tears about to fall from her bright green eyes.

"All I want is for a daughter to care. To help. To do somthing!"
I close my eyes and breathe. Please, God, I pray. Please don't make us get into this argument again. Mom continues to ramble on. "All I want is for you to help around the house. You do nothing--" she suddenly stops. A softer look takes over her face, as if all anger just left her body and peace settled in. "Oh. . .wait, I forgot. . .you're finding your 'Inner self.' 'Who you are' 'What you're here for.'"

I stand up and throw my iPod down on the couch. "You know what mom? All you do is NAG. Nag, nag, nag. That's all you 'do.' I try, okay? I have school, work, life. What don't you understand about this? I'm a teenager, Mom. I need time."  She puts her dark red hair into a pony tail and grabs a tissue from the end table, wiping her makeup smeared eyes. "I just want to know my daughter more," She sobs.
"I barely know you anymore. I love you, Danni. Do you not know that?"
I soften, and shape my face into a more loving look. "I love you too, Mom. I'm sorry. I really am,"
I reply. I tell her I'm going to go to bed, and take my iPod upstairs. I dress in my pajamas and lay in bed, staring at my ceiling. Who am I? I ask myself.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hi," The boy says. He has gorgeous blue grey eyes that you can barely see under his dark brown hair. His face is shaped squarely. I can't help but hope he likes me. He's perfect, I think to myself. The boys laughs when I don't reply because I'm intrigued by his amazing looks.. His laugh is like the ocean; calm and beautiful. "I'm James," He introduces himself. I smile widely, and my eyes shine. "Hello," I say softly, a little embarassed.. "I'm Danni."
My spine tingles as the sudden touch of his warm, firm hands caress my face. "We'll make it through this," He says firmly.
 I look at him, confused. "I-I'm sorry, what?" I ask curiously.

 As fast as he came, he's gone. His caress, though, is left on my face. I quickly touch my face where he caressed me. The feeling, like James, is gone suddenly. An empty feeling falls over me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



I wake up, all of the sudden. I hadn't known I was asleep. That dream; it felt so real. I wish it was real. I need it to be. I prop myself up on my elbows and lean back, happy for the silence. Usually, by the time I'm awake, my mothers up and already at work, so I don't have to deal with her. I feel more at home without her here. I begin to stretch and as I do, my back cracks and I sigh dreamily. That felt wonderful. I sit up and walk lazily to my dresser. I open my drawer and pull out a purple T-shirt and pull a pair of dark jeans from the clean laundry pile that is waiting for me to put it away. After I slip my clothes on, I pick up an empty notebook from my school supplies and begin to write.

Mom always said I needed to keep a dream journal. But, instead I'm gonna keep a diary. That sounds easier than a dream journal.
 I've now decided to because of my dream I had last night. I really don't
want to forget it. There was a boy. He said his name was James. He had the prettiest eyes I have ever seen in my life. They were a blue grey, but you couldn't see them unless his hair was out of the way of his eyes. He had dark, dark brown hair. It was so gorgeous. Just like his bone structure.
He had a square jaw and his laugh. . .It was amazing. It was so smooth and soft-- like it was floating on the air. Then, all out of the blue, he told me that we were going to make it through this. I'm not sure what he was talking about though. I wish he was real, and not just made up.

I never have the same dreams more then once, so I don't think I'll ever see him again. I'll never hear his beautiful laugh, or be able to stare at his wonderful face again. IT'S SO FRUSTRATING!!!!! I want to write more, but I have to get ready for school. I think I'll day dream about him in math class. Yeah, that sounds good.

I finish writing and put my journal under my mattress. Picking up my backpack, I remember I don't have school because of a staff meeting. If I had school, I would have been late, anyway. I begin to grin and lay back down on my bed. After a moment, I stand back up and walk downstairs, ready to make a good breakfast.When I reach the kitchen, I see that there is a sink full of dishes. I roll my eyes. Typical for mom to leave stuff for me to clean up. I start to do the dishes. Our kitchen is my favorite part of the house.

Mom likes to say that it charms the buyers. Ours is amazing. It has a gorgeous baby blue coat of paint, a greyish-white granite counter top, and it's normally always clean. It has a small, white, round table, with two white chairs around it. Mom loves her kitchen appliances. We have a stainless steel fridge, oven, sink, and dishwasher.

 When I have to do dishes, I prefer to do them by hand instead of putting them in the dishwasher, so I don't forget to put them away before I go to load it. While I watch the dishes, I can't help but notice the moving truck across the street. An idea suddenly pops into my mind: I should make cookies for them! Before I even get anything out of the cabinets, my phone rings.

"Hello," I answer.
"Hey, hey, hey, Danni! It's David, from work." The person on the other line says. David is one of my managers at the clothing store I work at.
"Oh," I laugh. "Whatcha need?"
"What's your call-in supposed to be for today?" he asks. I walk over to the fridge to check my work schedule.

Thursday: Call-in: 1:30-5:00.
"It says one-thirty until five." I reply.
"Alright," he says. "Cool, cool. You busy?"
I roll my eyes like I didn't see that coming. I smile happily. "No, I'm not. Need me to come in?"
There's a pause on the end of the phone. "Now every time I call, why do you automatically assume I need you to come into work?" He asks playfully.

I stifle a laugh. He does this all of the time. It's like a game. He calls for me to come into work, but when I ask if he needs me to, he says I don't need to.
"Oh, so I don't need to come into work?" I ask.
"I never said that," He says. I can just see him now, his signature smirk on his face.
"I'll be there in ten," I say.
David chuckles. "Okay," he says. "But I'm only making you stay until three, since you're coming in early."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk into the my works front doors, twirling my car keyes around my finger. Phaedra greets me with a smile. "Hey, girl. Why are you in here early?" I return her smile and point to David. He laughs guiltily, but smiles. "Well, it's cool," Phaedra says. "We like havin' you here."
I first met Phaedra when I was shopping here, and I asked for an application. When she wrote down her name I had to ask how to pronounce it.

"Fay-Druh," she said, understandingly. "My parents are Greek."
I just nodded and said, "It's beautiful."
I walk in the employee only room to put my keys and my wallet in my locker. After I put them away, I put on my headset and walk out the door into Woman Area One of our store, and start re-folding jeans. Phaedra walks up to me, and we start folding jeans together. "How was your day off yesterday?" She asks in her light southern accent.

"It was pretty nice, actually," I say. "Except for the fact that my mom was being a jerk."
She laughs. "How is your mom bad compared to mine?" She re-folds a pair of our Favorite Boyfriend jeans. "Your mom ain't got nothin' on mine, girl. Trust me."  I laugh lightly, doubting her word.

"Yeah," I scratch my shoulder and smile. "I'm so happy I work here. You know that, Phaedra?" She smiles and looks down.
"I do, as a matter of fact. We're so happy you're here. You've been a real blessing. You're so good at your job."
I grin sheepishly."Aww, thanks." She nods and walks off to the mens area.

I go over to our clearance to neaten up. I find a extra large graphic T-shirt in the smalls, and walk around the rack to put it in the smalls. A petite woman walks up to me, her hips swaying back and forth as she does. "Ma'am," she snaps. I clear my throat and glance at David, who is standing at the cash register, checking a teenager out. He looks over at me for a moment, but then goes back to checking the customer out. "Yes? May I help you find something, Ma'am?" I say.

She squints her eyes. "I had a shirt sitting here a moment ago that I was going to pick up after I tried on my jeans. Where is it?" Her eyes blink furiously. I try my hardest not to roll my eyes. Customers like this always come up to us and say the exact same thing.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I suppose someone could have come and picked it up. If you tell me what it looks like, I may be able to help." She looks at me skeptically.

"I'm sure you're not going to find it, even if I do tell you what it looks like. It was the last one."
I blink."Hmm, why don't you tell me what it looks like, and I'll see if we have another." I fake a smile.
"It is a pink and yellow plaid flannel shirt. Size medium." She sighs, looking at me as if I were wasting her time. I glance around the store. "Be right back," I tell her.

I quickly walk into Woman Area Two, and look through our shirts and tanks. Suddenly there is a noise coming from my headset. "Good luck with her," the voice says. It sounds familiar, but I can't tell where I've heard it before.

 I look around the store looking for David. It's probably him. He's nowhere in sight. "Yeah," I mumble into my ear piece. The person laughs on the other end. I look on the bottom of our white wooden shelf. It's not there. I check under it. Not there either. I walk around the store looking for the shirt, but can't find it. I walk up to the woman again.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I can't find it." I say, shrugging.
She crosses her arms angrily. "I had it right here," she points to the top of the clearance rack. "Someone moved it. It is your responsibility to know where it is. It is your fault someone took it."

I sigh lightly and clench my jaw, and repeat the exact same thing I say to every person who comes in saying they lost something in the store, and it's our fault.

"I'm sorry to have to say this, Ma'am, but it is not our fault. I suppose you misplaced it. I'm very sorry to hear that. If you need anymore help, find one of us and we'll be willing to do our best to help you. Until then, I'm afraid I have to get back to work." I give her my best sincere smile and continue to fix the clearance rack.

The woman walks away to the check out counter, where David sends her away happy. Or at least as happy as that lady can be. Once she leaves I walk up to the counter, and lean on it, my arms reaching the other side of the counter and curling at the edge.

I yawn lightly. David rests his hand on my head, pressing down. "Hey!" I protest, lifing my head up, laughing. He grins at me. "Rude," I laugh. He rolls his eyes and laughs at me. "Get to work, child." he smirks.

"Who are you calling a child, child?" I say as he walks off. "Minor!" he calls behind his back. I smile and look a the clock. It's two thirty. I came in at twelve, so that means I've been working for two and a half hours. Lunch break, here I come! I find David hanging around the dressing rooms. He lifts an eyebrow as I approach him.

"Hey, David," I say slowly and sweetly. "I was just wondering. . .if I can take my lunch break?" I widen my eyes, trying to look adorable. David's back slumps.
"Hey, Danni," he says, mocking me. "You totally can, but I'm coming with you, 'kay?"
I laugh. "Whatever," I say. And with that, we walk out of our little store, and he takes his car, and I take mine.

Last than a minute later, we arrive at a fast food joint. That's a good thing about working in a small store up in the mall--there are restaurants, diners, and fast food places surrounding it for that break from shopping. I park the car a few spaces from the door, and David parks beside me. We walk up the the counter together. David laughs and catches me when I slip on a spot on the ground where someone spilled their drink.

I thank him, smiling sheepishly. I tell David my order and he orders. The cashier hands me two cups, and I walk over to the yellow colored drink counter to fill them up. As I'm filling up my drink with diet Dr. Pepper, a young boy, probably eight years old, runs out of nowhere, up to me. He grins widely until someone calls him back over to their table. "See you later!" he calls over his shoulder.

I turn back to the counter, confused. I begin to fill up David's drink with Coke, like he told me to, not being able to stop thinking about the little boy and his words. See you later, see you later, see you later. What was he talking about? Was he just saying that to freak me out? David walks up to me with a tray that's filled with food. He inturrups my thoughs when he says "Hey,"
He starts picking up handfulls of ketchup. I snort. "Got enough ketchup there?" He glances at me, clearly amused.

"I like ketchup. Plus, if I bring a whole lot home, I don't have to buy as much ketchup from the store. So, think. For three dollars, that's including my meal only, okay? I can get a sandwich, fries, a drink, and probably thirty packs of ketchup. For only three dollars." he winks at me, continuing to fill up the tray with ketchup.

"Frugal, are we?" I wink back and go to find a table. David walks over to me, the tray overflowing with ketchup. I laugh out loud, covering my mouth quickly. "Sorry," I grimace. He nods and sets down the tray.

"Wow," he says. "I just noticed this is my first time I've gone to lunch with you." he laughs.
"Yeah," I reply. "Surprising, huh?"
He nods and gives me my chicken sandwich "So how do you like your four months of working here so far?" I take a bite of my sandwitch and swallow before replying,"I really like it, actually."

"Actually?"he laughs."Well, I'm happy you like it. I like having you here. I never really feel like I'm friends with Phaedra or anyone else at work, really. But it's different with you," he looks down and I take a bite of my chicken sandwich as he continues."I feel like I can talk to you like we're friends, not just co-workers, you know?"

I smile at him."Yeah, I think I do." David flicks his sleek black hair to the side and finishes his off his fries. He asks me if I want him to refill my drink while I eat. I say sure and focus on finishing my food. He comes back a minute later as I'm eating my last bite. He hands me my drink. "Thanks for letting me come to lunch with you."

"No problem, I had fun," I say, rising from my chair. He smiles and we walk back to our cars and drive back to work.


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BLLLLOOOOOOOOPPPPP! I hope you liked it!<3

Love, love, love,
Abbi.