Age Is Just A Number

Holly Starr is a 14 year old girl with black hair with red streaks,chocolate brown eyes,and is also emo.She was born with a low self esteem,and also without parents.They gave her up for adoption at the age of two,they didn't want her.She's been adopted twice,once when she was seven,and once when she was ten.But none of them worked out.Nobody wants an emo daughter,she's different from the other kids at the agency.One day an eighteen year old guy named Kellin Quinn comes to the agency,looking for a kid.Holly doesn't think he'll pick more to find out.


19. Busted

   Gosh what have I done? The look on Kellin's face when I told him I hated him...I can't bear thinking about it. Of course I don't hate him, I love him to pieces. It was the right thing to was my last option to get him to stay away from me. I wouldn't be able to just be friends with him and watch him love on my sister at the same time. It'd be way too much.

   I finish teasing my hair and then throw on some clothes. A white Fit For Rivals band tee and a pair of grey skinny jeans, I decide to wear my black Vans as well. I apply some thick eyeliner and a shit load of foundation, and finally pull my grey beanie on my head. I'm ready.

   While walking through the living room and towards the door I run into Charlotte. She's dressed in a dark denim jean mini skirt and a carribean blue camisole, her dark brown hair is curled into tiny ringlets and she has on her favorite pair of shoes, her black and blue Jordans. Her makeup appears all-natural of course.

   She smiles slightly and wraps her arms around my waist, I only have to lean up a bit to kiss her cheek. She's only two inches taller than I am, with a dancer's body. "Where are you going?" she whispers into my hair. My heart crumbles, how can I tell her? I can't. She musn't know until it's already happened...I just know she'll fight me away from that door if I tell her now. Tears well up in my eyes...this is goodbye.

"I love you," I whisper into her shoulder blade.

   She glances up and gives me a bewhildered look. "Why do you say that like I'm never gonna see you again," she asks. My heart clenches. Because your not, I think to myself.

   I pull away from her and shuffle out the door, down a few streets and to the local dock. My hands clench around the thick rope in my pocket. I'm not afraid of this, I never have been and probably won't ever will be. I notice a couple fishermen in a boat on the other side of the lake, when they see me alarm fills their hollow eyes. Why are they afraid of me?

   They whisper back and forth to each other and one of them gets on their cell phone. I ignore the crazies and walk up the boat dock. I go to the shallow part of the water first, find the heaviest rock I can, and tie the rope around it. I simply stand there for a few minutes, just admiring the ripples in the muddy water. After some time, I tie the other end of the rope around my ankle.

   Just as I reach the end of the dock and am about to go over it, I hear yells. I whip my head behind my shoulder and see two police men running at me with guns drawn.

"Holly Quinn get your hands in the-" one of them screams.

   I don't listen for the rest. I fling myself over the dock and into the deep waters. I sink, farther and farther. The pain in my chest begins to arrive, begging for air. A few more seconds pass and I feel arms encircle me.

   Soon I'm out of the water again, feeling crazily confused. One of the police men is soaked from head to toe, he kneels over me while withdrawing his handcuffs from his waist. I feel wet as well, my hair is dripping and my clothes are sticking to my body. My beanie is gone.

"Holly Isabelle Quinn you're under arrest for mulptiple counts of bank robbery, drug dealing, prostitution..." the wet police officer rambles on while cuffing me and pulling me off the dock, leading me to the cop car.

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