Isla Thatcher has given up everything she has ever loved: her looks, her confidence, and her passion for dance. The day a drunk driver takes her mother is the day her beautiful life turns bleak, and to make it all worse, she gains a personal bully. Ace Huxley, star hockey player and captain, has rigid good looks and he will do anything to pick on Isla Thatcher and remind her that her life is miserable. There has never been a particular reason why, but anyone would find someone as mysterious as her weird. But what happens on the day they are reunited, but only one can recognize the other? Isla has regained her confidence and is ready to take life head-on with everything she has missed, but she never expected she would also be given the chance of a lifetime - to bully the bully!
View MoreI once again woke up to the familiar white walls and slow beeping sounds beside my head. It seemed like too many times I was waking up here, it almost felt like a dream. But I knew it was real when I moved my toes and fingers. My head ached as I tried to sit up, but there was a heavy weight on my chest. I saw Ace asleep on top of me, one hand holding mine. I went and gently stroked his hair, but my fingers froze when I realized something. “I remember,” I muttered out loud. Holy shit, I remembered everything! From my father kidnapping me, right down to getting bashed over the head by Amber. Ace stirred below me and groaned. “Isla?” “I’m right here.” He snapped up from the bed. “Isla! Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?” “I’m okay, Ace.” I smiled gently and caressed his cheek. He grabbed my hand and clutched it tight. “Wait…do you remember?” I nodded and gripped his hand back. “I guess that second knock to the head was all I really needed to put things back into place,” I chu
I stood in shocked silence as I watched the moment in front of me unfold. I didn’t recognize the feelings of anguish and rage that took over me until Chase placed a hand on my shoulder and brought me back to reality. “It’s not what you think, trust me. Just watch,” he said. I closed my eyes briefly then opened them to see Ace push the girl away with an irritated look on his face, then shouts at her to leave him alone. “Hey, Ace!” Chase called out. “What?” he roared back and spun around. Once our eyes connected, it felt like the world crumbled and crashed around us, until we were completely alone. No memories resurfaced, but I felt a sense of comfort I had never known in the past three months of trying to find myself. I sensed a missing part of myself nestled inside the warmth of his beautiful blue eyes. I wanted to run to him and run away from him, afraid of these overwhelming feelings that had no sentiment attached to them. Like Chase had predicted, Ace pushed the girl aside a
I was packing my bags in my room when the doorbell buzzed. “Yes?” I answered on the intercom. “Miss, there is a girl here to see you.” It had to be Sylvia. I was wondering when she would turn up. I asked Chase about her, and he vouched that she was someone I knew, but we weren’t the closest of friends before my accident and some of them even suspected her of trying to harm me in the past with a suspicious fire. At the moment my heart trusted Chase more than it trusted Sylvia, but I wanted to figure out what she was planning by hanging around me suddenly. “Let her come up,” I said. There was a knock on the door a few minutes later and I opened the door to her smiling face. Even something about that made me feel off, although it was just a harmless gesture. “Hey, how have you been feeling?” she asked, but I knew what she really meant to ask was if I had remembered anything. “I’m alright, nothing much has changed.” She looked at my bags and frowned. “Are you going somewhere?” “
I stared at the text message for what felt like hours in the dark of my room, the only illumination from my phone. I read the message over and over again, the number now unknown but one name kept pushing at the forefront of my mind.Ace Huxley. I couldn’t be sure it was him, something in the back of my head screamed for me to call the number, but my fingers shook and hesitated over the screen.Before I had the chance to decide, my phone lit up once more with a phone call this time. It wasn’t the same number as the text message, which prompted me to answer it.“Hello?”“Isla, it’s me, Sylvia! Are you still at the hospital? I brought some goodies for you to eat.”I bit my lip and contemplated seeing her to ask about my bag, but I had no proof it was her and if she denied it, I would just look suspicious for no reason. I don’t know this girl, or remember her at least, and until I do my gut tells me not to trust her so easily.“I’m at home right now, I’ve been put on bed rest for a coupl
I woke up in an all too familiar place, I was back in the hospital. This time I only had an IV in my hand and breathing tubes shoved up my nose – and I wasn’t alone in the room.The girl from earlier, Sylvia, was still there waiting anxiously on the chair next to the bed. She gasped and rushed over when she saw me move.“Isla, are you okay?” she asked.I stared at her for a few minutes, but no other memories flashed in my mind.“Are we friends?” I asked.“Why would you ask that? Of course, we are! What happened to you?”I wasn’t sure if I should tell her what happened. Was she really someone I knew before?“Where did we meet?” I asked.She looked confused but proceeded to tell me about the University and the dance program we are both enrolled in, the time we met in the practice rooms and the drama we both went through with a girl named Amber.“Is she the reason you’re here? Did she do something to you?”I shook my head, feeling a little more familiar with Sylvia.“I was hit by an onco
3 months later… It had been a slow process, but after a few months, I had most of my functionality back in my body. I could move more than a few steps before my legs collapsed and they no longer shook after running on the treadmill. My arms were stronger and the last of my bandages came off today. During the time I spent in the recovery ward, I met another girl around my age who suffered from the same thing as I did, total amnesia. She couldn’t even remember the accident she was in and was unable to speak her own name before two weeks of recovery. Her name is Sarah and she had been a rock the entire time I was here. I had felt so alone the first week I was there, unable to remember who I was or where I came from, the only detail I had was my only living family member tried to kill me, and I almost succeeded. He was now in jail, and I was left completely on my own, with nothing to me but my name and the clothes I arrived with. They were so f
I'm sorry everyone for not posting any new chapters! My recovery has taken a toll on me for the worst and I have been trying my best to get chapters done when I can. I hope you can enjoy this short chapter :)~*~*~We had been driving for at least a day, my hand zip tied to the door handle. Even if I get it open, I can’t take the whole door with me. My only means of escape was for him to stop somewhere.“I have to pee, shall I go here?” I asked, knowing he would say no the first time.He grunted. “So do I, we’ll pull up over here.”We got off at the next exit but to my surprise he didn’t lead us to a store – we drove straight through the forest, away from the only road. My father stopped the car and untied my hands.“Get out and go, don’t even try to escape.” He reached under his seat and pulled out a sawed off shot gun.“What the hell, that’s illegal to have!” I cried.He snickered. “You’re going to lecture me about the low now, girl? It’s a little late for that.”He was right, what
I said my goodbyes to Ace in the hospital, as hard as it was to part with him. My father was lurking outside my hospital door the minute I was discharged, there was no escaping this. If I disobeyed him and went with Ace, he would surely send guys after him and in his current condition, there was no way he could fend them off.He would be killed. That blood would be on my hands.I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. I’d rather go back to the life I’ve lived than drag him down with me. I was grown now; I could handle it and escape the first moment I got. Maybe now someone would believe me, but that was wishful thinking.“You ready to go?” my father asked.“I need to grab my things from the house first.”He shook his head. “I’m not giving you the chance to escape.”“You can wait outside; I just need to grab my clothes and personal belongings.”He grumbled but finally agreed and drove me back to the frat house. I was trying to think of ways to get myself out of this, but for right
I said my goodbyes to Ace in the hospital, as hard as it was to part with him. My father was lurking outside my hospital door the minute I was discharged, there was no escaping this. If I disobeyed him and went with Ace, he would surely send guys after him and in his current condition, there was no way he could fend them off.He would be killed. That blood would be on my hands.I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. I’d rather go back to the life I’ve lived than drag him down with me. I was grown now; I could handle it and escape the first moment I got. Maybe now someone would believe me, but that was wishful thinking.“You ready to go?” my father asked.“I need to grab my things from the house first.”He shook his head. “I’m not giving you the chance to escape.”“You can wait outside; I just need to grab my clothes and personal belongings.”He grumbled but finally agreed and drove me back to the frat house. I was trying to think of ways to get myself out of this, but for right
I have hated the majority of my life I could remember. My mother died in a car accident when I was young, on the day of my 10th birthday. From that day my father had blamed me for her death, all because I had thrown a tantrum over not having ice cream with my cake, so she went to get some and was struck by a drunk driver.That was the day the horrors of my childhood had begun. My father had become a recluse drunk who lost his job and claimed disability to sit at home and drink. He would have flashbacks of my mother and get into a drunken rage, which usually ended with me as his punching bag and anger release.I tried several times to tell an adult about it, I showed them the bruises on my legs and arms, but my father was the world’s greatest actor. Every time someone had come to the door under the suspicion something was happening to me in the house, he pretended to act like a sober and loving father, which in turn made me look like a liar.So, I stopped telling people, and I waited f
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