#it's prettier

Of your hands, your lips in my hair, your breathing getting deeper, your heartbeat slowing down, my love,

Growing quietly, as dawn turns the sky pink and paint the trees inky black, as we grow closer, closer, always,

Closer, and softer, these days in our future, and these days that go by, and these days in our past, these moments that fleet by.

I won't leave your bed as long as your sun is courting me.

I love where we're at, at the dawn of a "we".

for a while, she believed things were going to be okay. college was a breeze; she was a nobody in a sea of students that had no idea of what horrors she’d seen as a child. her days were filled with long classes and hard work from the part-time job she insisted on taking. her nights were plagued with nightly rituals of checking all the locks on her doors and windows, making sure she had securely hidden knives in her tiny apartment and that the safety was on as she slid her handgun under her pillow. her nights were restless, most of the time, hours stretching on and on and on till exhaustion over took her.

she was a journalist at heart, a writer who wanted justice for those whose voices had been lost. a bleeding heart who just wanted to do something and be there for the people who’d lost someone dear to them. she had to start somewhere.

she turned to her own past.

she stirred the pot a little more.

she wrote a book about her serial killer father, about the man he’d called a best friend who’d helped him in his murderous venture. they’d each killed several female victims ranging in ages from ten to twenty-five. 

except her friend. rowan was able to save her that fateful night when she went into the woods to search for her friend on her own. she came to realize what hell looked then.

when the book was published, hell opened up once more; a ghost from the past came knocking on her door. she ran. she ran and ran and ran till she fell to her knees, forcing herself to get back up and run some more. she changed her name, again - after witness protection, she legally had her name changed to something else but this time, it was different. worse. she closed her bank accounts, quit her job, sent a letter to her aunt telling her she had to disappear for awhile.

she reached out to the police, but her father had been the police once - she wasn’t sure who she could trust.

she found a home in portland, oregon.