Superhuman

Zayn Malik. You know who he is, right? Of course you do. So does Kristina, but everyone calls her Is for short, because she just, is, ya know? If she could describe Zayn in one word, it would be sexy. If Zayn could describe Is in one word, it would be sexy, too. But, to Is, freak, mutant and/or, well, superhuman, would be more like it.

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1. A New Beginning

   Is's POV

   I leaned out the window of my apartment, which was on the third floor of the building. "Get out and stay out, you effing whore!!" I screamed at my just-recently-like-as-of-two-freaking-minutes-ago ex boyfriend, who, as I had clearly stated, was  an effing whore. I slammed my window shut, which kinda bounced on the sill before settling into it's almost-but-not-quite closed position. I flopped down on my bed, which squeaked. "Ugh," I groaned. I wanted to pull my hair out. Well, I guess that's what happens when your sluttly, no good "boyfriend", who has like, 20 freaking tattoos, and piercings in 5 different places (one of which I don't wanna even think about....ick) cheats on you with another total slut. I thought opposites attracted, but alrighty then.

   I went over to the mirror in my cheap, one-roomed hovel. I brushed out my light brown hair, then braiding it off to the side, letting my curls hang around my face. I inspected myself in the mirror. My brown eyes looked beaten, and tired. I was wearing a white spaghetti strap tank-top, with short jean shorts, and a knock-off brand of Toms for shoes. I frowned. This is not how I wanted to live my life- I was only 15, for cryin out loud! That sorry-ass hoe I had just dumped was 21. God, I was stupid. And where are my parents, you might ask? To tell you the truth, I didn't know. Not once in my life have I had real parents, just a few sorry excuses for 'em at foster homes and such.

   I got out my large, grayish suitcase and sloppily threw my few belongings, along with a wad of cash (about $500 I've been saving up for awhile) in. I walked out the door and never came back.

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