Chapter One Present

Amara, the only daughter of her adoptive parents sat at her laptop in her room just like every other bright summer day. "Miles Prower signed on," reported a small yellow pop up in the bottom right corner of her screen. She smiled upon recognizing Laramie's, her crush of three years, screen name.

Miles Prower: Hi

SOSmithinson: Hi, what's up?

Miles Prower: Eh not much u?

SOSmithinson: same

Miles Prower: school starts in one week

SOSmithinson: Do not remind me.

Miles Prower: your not looking forward to it starting up again?

SOSmithinson: No, I hate Parkland with a burning passion.

Miles Prower: i kind of miss the place

SOSmithinson: Right …

Miles Prower: i have that other drawing up

SOSmithinson: Oh hooray!

SOSmithinson: Just a second.

Amara loved his art almost as much as she loved him. It was one of the only things that got her through last summer and had helped her a lot this summer. She pulled down her favorites and clicked on the link that took her right to the sight were he always posted his works of art. The drawing was the very same one that he had let her watch him draw at a party they had both attended the night before. It was a comic of his typical style. The typical style that made her smile.

SOSmithinson: He he he

SOSmithinson: It is good.

Miles Prower: thanks

SOSmithinson: What happened after I left last night?

SOSmithinson: Anything of interest to me?

Miles Prower: not really

Miles Prower: pretty much the same stuff as when you were there

Miles Prower: although i did have to sleep with feo

SOSmithinson: Ewww!

SOSmithinson: Wow, I am so sorry for you

Miles Prower: yeah it was pretty gross

Miles Prower: you should have stayed longer

SOSmithinson: My mother wouldn't let me.

SOSmithinson: You know how she is about that kind of stuff.

SOSmithinson: Blech

SOSmithinson: Besides, Feo would have ended up sleeping with me and that would not be fun.

Miles Prower: ha ha ha

Miles Prower: maybe not

So continued the remaining seven days of Amara Akuji's blissful summer.


Amara stood at an intersection not far from her house apart from the other kids that were there. In her opinion, that intersection was the second worst intersection in the whole world. She shot a warning glare at the immature freshmen gathered in a tight bunch a couple of yards away. There high pitched giggling immediately quieted and they all made an obvious effort not to stare at her and hide behind each other. Amara knew they would leave her alone. They knew who she was and why she was there.

The despised bus arrived and Amara found a seat by herself near the front. When they reached the school she was immediately surrounded by a group of her acquaintances.

"Hi, Amara! What's up?" She cringed at the cliché greeting.

"Nothing new," she replied what seemed like a hundred times before she finally made it to her homeroom, were she had a quick breather before fighting her way down the school's halls to her first period class. Her first period first semester that year was gym, the most evil terrible "class: of torture that ever existed, in Amara's opinion at least.

Amara sulked into the gym and looked around hopeful for someone she at the very least knew his or her name. This is going to be a long terrible year, she thought and let out a long quiet sigh. She found a seat on the bleachers as far from the other students she could manage, sat down, and pulled out the book she was currently reading.

"Amara!" she looked around at the sound of her name and say Mae Jamil, her best friend since they had started high school two years ago. They had meet on stage crew and had clicked from the very first moment and had never fought or been mad at each other for any reason … yet. She was six-teen and a Libra. She had an average body and dressed modestly most of the time. She had quaint smile, which made you smile yourself, and green eyes that seemed to draw you into her very soul. She had a gorgeous look about her that did not scream beauty like some girls but as soon as you noticed it, you could not help but see it. It was quite surprising that she did not get a boyfriend until that year.

"Mae!" Amara gathered up her things that she had just set down and moved to a seat next to her friend.

"Thank God, I found you. I thought I was going to be miserably alone this year," she said.

"I thought so too."

"How was your summer?"

"good good, yours?"

"Good, guess what."


"I got a boyfriend!"

"Oh my gosh! really? did you really?"

"Yes, can you believe it?"

"No, I'm in shock." They both laughed. "I'm so happy for you!" Amara gave Mae a hug and did her best not to giggle girlish giggles.

"I know." Mae smiled and hugged Amara back equally excited.

"Who is it tell me!" Mae paused.

"I don't think you know him."

"Does he go to this school?"

"Yes, he does."

"Is he in our graduating class?"

"Yes, he is."

"Then why would you think I don't know him?"

"He's not the type you would hang out with. He hates emo kids."

"I'm not emo. I'm past all that stuff."

"Good, but he's still not the type you would hang out with."

"I hang out with you right, and he's your type so why wouldn't he be the type that I hang out with?"

" I guess you are right."

"Who are you going out with? Tell me!"

"O K O K, I will tell you. Do you know Laramie Gunnar?" Amara Stared at her friend and felt nothing


"Do you know him?"

"What do you mean do I know him? Of course, I know him!"

"Oh cool, we should all get together some time then." Amara looked down at her hands and realized they were shaking as the feeling returned to her numb soul. The pain was nearly un barable.

"yeah sure" If this person who I trusted so much would do this to me after all we have been through together then there must be not be any good left in the world, she thought. The one person that she wanted to run to was the very same one she wanted to run from. Her already scared heart had been cut clear through.

"Are you O K?" Mae asked.

"yeah fine."
"No, you are not. Tell me what is wrong." Amara painfully looked up into her eyes.

"Don't know that I like him?"

"No Amara, why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry!" Mae tried to hug her but she shrunk away.

"I told you."

"No, you didn't. I wouldn't have gone out if you had." Amara went back at her clenched hands. "Amara, I'm really sorry. I really am."

"Don't worry about it I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am O K." Mae tried to think of something else to say to comfort there dear friend but no helpful words came to mind. The remainder of the class period passed in silence and both the girls went aside and busied themselves with writing for Mae and reading for Amara. She recognized the book Mae was writing in as the book in which she kept the novel she was working on and Amara was reading as she went. She wanted to read it so bad and come of the cliffhanger she had been on for the past week but the pain in her heart won over and the rest of the period passed with out her being able to work up the courage to ask to read it.

The rest of the day slipped past in much the same way, like a ghost, and Amara was even more unattached than usual. Her acquaintances who called themselves her friends noticed but did nothing by way of help or comfort thinking very wrongly that she would be O K and talk about it the next day.


Amara arrived home and pulled on the front door handle to find it locked. Mrs. Caldwell said she would be home when I got home from school today, she thought. She sighed and pulled out her house key. I never came home to an empty house before Mom, Dad, Asim, Agape, Almice, and Yitzchak died. She brushed away a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek and let her self in like she had to nearly every other day when she goes home from school. She would have actually been very surprised if one of her adoptive parents, Mr. or Mrs. Caldwell were actually home to meet her. She put her things down on the kitchen table like she usually did. She went into the kitchen to see if she could find herself a snack and found a note for her on the fridge.


Your dad and I are visiting for a bit at the Brown's this after noon. Please make dinner. Be sure to use the pork that is in the top drawer in the refrigerator. The floor also needs to be vacuumed and the living room dusted. There is a load of dishes in the dishwasher that need to be put away. Do a load of laundry. I need my black sweater with the red flowers washed for tomorrow so do not forget. You also need to do all your other chores. We will be home at five make sure you have everything done by then.

Love Mom

Amara ripped down the note in disgust. How dare she say she love me. I doubt she even knows what love really is. She sighed deeply and counted to ten. O k, let's get on track, Amara. I do not need her yelling at me on top of everything. Al right, pork, what can I make with pork? A stew? O k, I will make a stew. She went into the pantry and got a bunch of the potatoes and a bag of rice, and carrots, celery, onions, and pork out of the refrigerator. She set the potatoes out on a cutting board along with the carrots, celery and onions and began cutting every thing into bite sized pieces. Tears appeared on her cheeks and splashed down on the food. God, she said to the ceiling, I do not really believe if are there, but if you are I just don't know what to do anymore. Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you or anybody else to deserve this? The tears were coming harder and quicker now. Mae turned on me. Leramie never even liked me. My family is all dead and gone. The Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell do not care. They never cared. No body ever cared about me. She looked at the knife she had been using with a new light. There is no point in my living anymore. I do not even believe you exist but if you do I guess I will be seeing you in a little while. She held the knife posed above her wrist for a moment while she looked around as if the hoped some one would come and stop her, but no one did. She gritted her teeth and dug in the sharp tip and slid it all the way down to her elbow. She gasped surprised at how real and strong the pain actually was. The second cut came quickly after wards with out hesitation. Blood spilled over the counter and dripped down the sides. Amara stared at her gushing wounds in disbelief gasping for air. No thought passed threw her dieing mind as she slipped to the floor and passed out.

"Amara," said a voice. The voice had no gender. It had the strength of a man but the love of a woman. "Amara," It said again. She turned to where it was coming from and saw a blinding light before her.


"I am."

"Then I guess you are real."

"I am." Amara started walking toward the light.



"This in not your path."

"Then when?"



"I have great plans for you."


"Yes, you, great plans which you could never imagine."

"You must have made a mistake. I am no one." The light seemed to throb.

"Would I make a mistake?"

"No, I guess you wouldn't"

"You will be sent to the beginning of time and given a body that can not be touched by death or any of its minions. I have great plans for you."

"No, I can't do anything great."

"We will see."