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*This book is a work of fiction in its entirety, no excerpt is copied or taken from any where but my mind*

''I had wanted to run, away from the reality forming before my very eyes, away from the truth as it stood tall before me, but it was too late, I knew it and I also knew, if anyone was to ask me about the most brutal thing ever happened to me, I would've known the answer but I would still want to run. I didn't know what she was capable of until I saw it, and I saw it and I regret it. This Is The Story Of Her and My Life...


All Rights Reserved

© Sam Who, 2015


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New Beginnings

I sighed as I looked outside of our car, the breath surfaced over the window and coated a layer that blurred out the outer world. I had wanted to trace a smiley face but it was too cold to even move, so I dropped the idea. My knees were stiff as a rock and my back ached from all the sitting, everything else seemed dull and stupid in comparison.

"We should've taken the plane" I said to my father in monotone. I'm not sure if he sighed or it was just his heavy breathing due to the extreme cold, but I didn't really bother. It was his thing - sighing. I switched my weight onto the other leg and leaned back a little, sniffing the heater air that surrounded us - it's presence unable to keep our bodies warm. 

"You want some coffee, Nate?" I heard my dad say, as he pulled over to a Dunkin' Donuts outlet. It was 6:15 am and I was totally the morning coffee type, so I just nodded my head. He stepped outside and I saw his body growing smaller and smaller until it entered inside the room. A couple passed by, followed by an old man - oh the irony. I wondered if getting old really was scary. It was a scary concept to me, all along. I had always wanted to stay young ever since I turned 14, now I was 18 with the same desire, the kind that can never be fulfilled but it was there, somewhere in the cracks of my heart, trying to find a way out towards completion. I heard the car unlock, and saw my dad placing the coffee onto the dashboard, as he settled to buckle his seat belt. He motioned for me to pick mine up and I did. It tasted like shit - or probably my shitty life was the reason I had lost any kind of good creamy taste. 'Coffee is happiness' I thought. 'Life is not' I thought. Technically, I should feel neutral but I settled on the 'negativity in my life outweighs the good coffee' formula. It pretty much worked. 

"You can lie down for a good nap, once we get home." , Dad interrupted my self-conversation, "After, you can call your mom if you want to." 

"hm." I said, while my heart sank a little inside. How could he be so underwhelmed with all that happened? After, weeks and weeks of arguing and yelling, how can everything still be so normal for my dad. I remembered the day mom walked inside, I was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling while talking to Ally, my ex-girlfriend. She sat down beside me, her hands clutched together in a praying gesture. I hung up at Ally, I had to. She moved a little, just a little but I noticed she was crying, the kind where you try hard to disguise but you end up in a worse condition than if you had let it out in the first place. The next words I heard were like a bomb shell. 

"You're moving with your dad to LA, we're done now Nate." and I saw her get up and brush past me, as she made her way upstairs. I wanted to ask why? Why me? Why should I be suffering but I knew no 'why' is getting an answer. I remember Ally coming over, she kissed me but it didn't feel the same, in fact I had wanted to thrash her and send her away. She tried, and I know she did but I gave up. We gave up.

Dad took at left turn, which was rather rash. I jerked in my place, while my throat made a weird gawking noise. Everything seemed so still, I started doubting the 'early riser' theory. The sun was beginning to come out and even if my life was shitty, the sun rise in LA wasn't. It was better, it made me feel fine. We drove past a few houses and palm trees before I saw a mob of people, leaning over the road. Dad came to a halt and along with that my imagination too. He told me to sit inside and wait. I saw him move towards the group of people. He tore them apart and made a way for himself, I had probably seen a glimpse of a body. 

"I'm a doctor" I heard my dad say out loud "I'm a doctor, let me help."

He bent down and I saw his hands move in an unknown fashion. He was a doctor anyway. After what seemed like forever I saw him run back, with someone in his hands. It looked a girl, I was sure. I could tell from genders. He asked me to open the back seat, which I did. Dad, ever so cautiously leaned inside and placed the girl gently onto the seat. He rushed inside on the driver's seat and started the ignition. 

"She's serious. We have to hurry up." He said driving fast, "I'm sorry son, you're going to have to wait a little longer, for your nap. I hope that's okay by you?" I heard him say.

But I was too busy, scrutinizing the anonymous person laying at the back of our car. She had black hair, and her skin was a gold tan, with freckles on her nose. She looked pretty. Scratch that. She looked hot. I felt like throwing up realizing that the girl I just called hot might as well be dead in a few hours, now who calls a dead person hot?

Nathaniel James Alburt.

I sighed and turned around to face the road, laughing at my own deteriorating imagination.




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Moving In

"Dr. Cassandra, I may need your help." I heard my dad say as he rushed past the reception, after telling me to wait inside of his office. I carelessly dragged myself across the hallway, gliding past a group of people and nurses, and stepped inside of a room that said 'Doctor Phil Alburt'.

It was almost the same. A revolving chair was carefully settled behind an office desk. Some weird kind of headphones were placed on top of it, which I later figured to be a stethoscope. I sat down onto the chair and whirled, just like a kid on a merry-go-round. It made a weird squealing noise, disturbing the quiet air. I picked up a paper from a post-its pad and started doodling. I could've said I'm pretty good at it, but the sad truth of my life was; I was good for nothing. I didn't have any particular talents I could show off, neither did I have any interests other than reading books; all kinds - romance, sci-fi, history, fantasy, horror - you name it. I was a book hoarder, if I liked a book, I bought it even if it cost me the remains of my annual savings.

I wasn't the waiting type, so I got up and walked outside. A couple of white-dressed people with funny hats were moving around from one room to another, holding trays in their hands. I wanted to talk, about anything because I was bored - and sad. 

"Hey!" I said to a man, sitting on one of the waiting chairs. They looked uncomfortable so I just settled with standing. He looked up and scrutinized me up and down, before he greeted me back with a shy smile. His eyes crinkled and his moustache stretched a little. 

"Hey kid!" He said.

"What are you here for, sir?" I tried being as polite and respectful as possible, just in case he knew my dad. I obviously did not want to create an image of a brute son, for myself.

He heaved a sigh, and started unfolding his handkerchief. "Oh routine check-up. My girl wouldn't let go of it that easily. She's inside talking to the doctor." He said while cleaning his glasses. I smiled politely.

"Say, what are you here for?" He asked me. 

"My dad is a doctor here." I replied rubbing the palm of my hands, while raising my eyebrows like I always did.

"Oh." He let out a chuckle, "Must be hard kiddo, my father was a doctor. He said you're either a doctor or a disappointment" He laughed again while settling his glasses onto the bridge of his nose, "See, I've been a disappointment ever since."

I looked at him, and for just a fraction of a second, I saw myself in him. I saw the older, good for nothing version of me. In his grey hair, I saw mine, in his crinkled eyes, I imagined myself. I felt sad, sadder than I was before.

"It was nice talking to you, Sir." I said and started walking.

I came inside the office after my casual stroll through the hospital. A part of me wanted to call mom, but an even bigger part hated her for letting me go, for choosing her freedom over her kid, for abandoning her son. I gave up the idea. I was pretty worked up about the whole family drama to even notice the sun rays illuminating the office. They looked faded and dull. It was cold anyway, but they served as a thin cover to the cold - fortunately. I walked toward the window and breathed against the glass. 

"Nate?" I heard my dad say. I turned around to face the man standing at the desk, he wore gloves and the weird dress you wear while operating. Dad always wore it, I saw it in his videos related to his study. I wondered if he was just going to sit without washing his hands and disinfecting himself. I wasn't particularly anxious about hygiene but it made me cringe.

"Yes?" I replied. 

"She's okay. We treated her. Cardiac tamponade" he paused, "oh you wouldn't understand." he said again. 

"Maybe, if you tell me I will." I said.

"Son, she was probably stabbed, she had a massive bleeding wound right on the left side of her chest. This led to the trauma of her heart sac - the pericardium. Uh I hope you know that?" He looked at me, I nodded, "Yeah, so that's it. We had to drain the fluid and relieve the pressure off of her heart. I'm glad she's okay." He said as he turned around,

"I'm going to change. We'll be off in a few." 


"It's big." I said as we stepped inside dad's house. He had bought it 6 months ago, right after my 18th birthday. It was as big as it could get. The lounge was massive, with a sort of a royal stair case. I had lived in a house, but not a castle - I'd regard it that. It was worthy.

"Welcome to the life of a doctor, son." Dad bragged as he took me upstairs. "This" he said pointing toward a room at the extreme left of the hallway "will be you room. There's plenty to choose from but this one has the biggest window." He smiled. I smiled back and stepped inside. "Thanks dad." 

I threw my bag onto the bed and headed for the bathroom. Changing into my comfy attire, which included shorts only, I curled under the sheets. The bed was cold, probably because I was the only body that may have ever touched it in 6 months. But, it soon warmed a bit, after my unnecessary tossing and turning. I didn't know when I went to sleep, but  I slept real hard until dad knocked on my door.

"Nate? Son, I'm off to the hospital. The girl woke up. I'm on the check. Food's in the fridge. Make sure you eat it." He shut the door before I could even argue like a normal kid. 


The next thing I knew was, the girl standing. Her flailing head, settling onto my dad's shoulder. It was a week after we had come here. Her eyes scanned the house, like mine. She was weak, really weak and it showed but her eyes said otherwise. They seemed to burn through me as my gaze met hers.

"She's Katharina, and she'll be living with us Nate."



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