Chloe's life used to be normal, that is, until she turned 17. Suddenly everything seemed sharper. She grew stronger, faster, and smarter. Of course she thought this was all about hormones, about growing up. But when she learns the deadly truth behind her past, all she can do is run from those out to get her. She thought she can do it, thought that she can someday break free, but when she runs into the all famous band member, Zayn Malik.... Can she ever truly let go. This is a story of action seeking romance and unbearable twists in a young girls life and how every thing can become okay after looking so bleak.


3. Average Joe?

"Five more minutes, Dad!" I find myself mumbleing from under my pillow. My stomach feels soar from yesterday's work out and I yawn. Then I hear my dad enter my room, 'damn it' I think to myself and sit up. The first thing I do is look at the clock. "Dad it's only five in the morning!" I yell and throw a pillow at him. It oddly a quick throw, stronger than I'd met it. My dad doges the blow. "Very good." He says under his breath. I look at him strangely, "I wasn't even trying." I say and get out of bed. He sighs, "Okay, well training today at four. We are going to the park this time." He says as I start walking down stairs, "I made eggs, honey." He yells agian behind me. "Okay!"I yell and jump down the remaining six stairs, landing perfectly on my feet. I don't really know how I am able to do it, mabey the training. I grab a plate of eggs and sit out side on the patio. The sky is now a light purple and the warm breeze is perfect. Birds start to sing as my dad comes out with some tea for us and breakfast for himself. "Beautiful morning," He says handing me my tea. I nod. He yawns and runs a hand through his dark brown hair. I look at him and laugh, "Face off today?" He groans and pops his nuckels. "Yes." He says and starts eating. I smile. Sometimes, during traIning, my dad and I will fight eachother. He is scary good, however I have beat him a couple times. I just wish he would tell me where he learned. He doesn't tell me anything about his past. Not even about how he and my mom met. Even if Ilook around the house, I have never seen a picture of his younger days. As much as I try to not let it bother me, I just can't help but shake the feeling that my dad is hiding somthing. Somthing so utterly twisted that he wound not even tell me. "Kay, well I better get ready." I say an quickley hop up. "I'm driving you to school today." He yells to me as I'm half way to my room. I roll my eyes. "Yes, sir!" I yell. He is some times over protective, especially now that I'm turning seven teen in a couple days. I don't do anything special when I get ready, I supply apply foundation and mascara. That's all I need and I some times don't get the point of caking make-up on your face.
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