*** Broken Perfection ***

*** Broken Perfection ***

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Summary

Monsters live all around us. They might be disguised as that nice guy next door or the man that sells you insurance. Kissandra is a normal girl living a regular life when a monster disguised as a regular guy comes into her life. Will she ever be the same? Rated Adult for violence, language and sexual situations.

Summary

Monsters live all around us. They might be disguised as that nice guy next door or the man that sells you insurance. Kissandra is a normal girl living a regular life when a monster disguised as a regular guy comes into her life. Will she ever be the same?

Rated Adult for violence, language and sexual situations.

Chapter1 (v.1) - *** Broken Perfection ***

Author Chapter Note

Monsters live all around us. They might be that nice guy next door or the man that sells you insurance. Kissandra is a normal girl living a regular life when a monster disguised as a regular guy comes into her life. Will she ever be the same? Rated Adult for violence, language and sexual situations.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 13, 2011

Reads: 1683

Comments: 14

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 13, 2011

A A A

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Some people are broken and can pick up the pieces. They can go on. Me? I'm not just broken, I've been shattered and there is no putting me back together. The pieces of what used to be my spirit are just too splintered. They say that time heals all wounds . . . my internal ones remain open and bleeding while long sleeves and pants cover the external scars. In theory, the therapist that I see every week would be helping me to overcome all that happened to me. In reality, I'm just a "fascinating case study". That's me, Kissandra Wentworth, case study extraordinaire.

Maybe I should tell you my story . . . We'll start with the downfall of our perfect little family. People say that every family has their trials but mine seem to have had more than their fair share. My younger sister, Keri, died when I was 4. She was at the babysitter's house and got into some prescription medication. By the time anyone realized that she had taken them, it was too late to save her. That's when my family really started to disintegrate. My mom died when I was 13. Watching cancer eat someone from the inside out is a hell all its own. Things really crashed and burned at home without her ability to make everything seem all right, even if it was all a glossy cover-up.

That left Grandma, my older sister Kelli, my older brother Keegan and the sperm donor they call my Dad to make up my highly dysfunctional family. My father spends most of his days inside a bottle. Grandma said that he couldn't cope without Mom. I think he couldn't cope without someone to cover up the fact that he's been drunk every day since Keri died. My brother left when he was 18 and I was 15, I haven't seen him since. He has never written, called, e-mailed or sent smoke signals. My sister got married at 21 and it didn't end well . . . but that's her story to tell.

Grandma is still kicking today at 85. She's the life of any party and is still ready to take on the world. Even now, she's my rock. Her patience and understanding are what have gotten me through the emotional minefield that has been my life. When I would have ended it all, she convinced me to go on . . . one day at a time.

Seven years ago, I was 17 and a junior in high school. That was the spring I decided that I was in love with my best friend Anita's brother. I know, how cliché. Jared was just over a year older than us, tall, dark chocolaty hair and beautiful grey green eyes. All those sports he played had given him an impressive set of muscles too. Unlike most of our friends' brothers, Jared always looked out for his sister and her friends. He never let anyone pick on us. He was going off to join the Army right after graduation and then attend college through the ROTC program at Georgia Tech. His choice was a no brainer for a protective guy like that. I had big plans too, I was going to college. I wanted to be a nurse so I could help people, save people. That was before I realized that I couldn't save others, I couldn't even save myself. My goals were derailed, changed along with the rest of what made me who I was. We'll get to the why and how soon enough.

 

Anita and I spent the summer before our senior year being typical teenage girls. We worked together at a local cafe`, serving coffee and flirting with boys. Anita never lacked for attention. She had dark red hair and shared her brother's grey green eyes. I got my fair share of attention too but I didn't take anyone up on their offers of dates. I was in love with my best friend's brother after all. We went to the lake and to bonfire parties too, just like everyone else. All the things you do as a young adult during long, hot summers in Northern Michigan.

I also spent time day dreaming about doing something so Jared finally would see me as something other than his little sister's best friend. As it turned out I didn't have to do anything at all, he just had to come home from boot camp and see me. It seemed that separation, at least in this case, really did make his heart grow fonder. He was home for ten days. After the first two days spend dancing around the fact he was interested in me, he and I spent every spare minute together. Letters, phone calls and e-mails flew back and forth after he went back to Georgia. At first Anita wasn't so thrilled about the relationship but then she decided that my being with her brother made us more than best friends, it made us sisters.

Christmas break came right after my 18th birthday. To no one else's surprise, Jared came home for break. A lot happened during those two weeks. Jared gave me a promise ring and I gave him my V card. My father was on the wagon after being arrested for drunk driving and my sister ran off to Las Vegas to get hitched. It seemed like my life was going so perfectly and it was, until that spring. Less than three months before graduation . . .


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