Taylor Ayers

‘I will be back as soon as possible.’ I nodded.
‘I just don’t want you to leave. But I know you have to.’ He tucked a strand of my wet hair behind my ear.
‘I will be back before you know it.’
‘Pinky promise?’ I asked. I stuck out my pinky.
‘Pinky promise.’ We linked pinkies and shook on it.
Taylor is a normal fifteen year old girl until her father turns her world upside down. With contracts, a relentless psychopathic general and a bodyguard who has many secrets. Will she be the person she is destined to be or will she be a rebel and defy the system her grandmother set out for her? Will she find love in her world which has been thrown in the bin and burned? She has to fight even harder than she did before to attempt to keep her life almost normal.


30. The tides change


The tides change


There was a sudden scream from the already ruined engines as the plane crashed down into the French alps. The last thing she had seen was the black smoke pouring from the engines and his face. A lady lay among the wreckage floating face up. Her eyes were closed and should could have been sleeping only the blood on her face and numerous broken bones told another tale. There was blood in her hair and gushing from the wound in the side of her head, staining the snow bright red.


Climbers found her hours later when some more snow had fallen.

‘JEROME! JEROME! WE’VE ‘AD AN ACCIDENT!’ One shouted to his fellow climbers. They all scrambled up the freshly fallen snow picking their way through the damaged plane.

‘Who is she?’ A man with a pink coat on shrugged his large shoulders.

‘I dunno. I think she is someone special cuz she is the only body.’ A man in blue nodded.

‘Yah. Ones sees no more mangled homosapieans.’

‘Fred give it up. The jokes over this is serious.’

‘I think we should call 911.’ This man had an american accent.

‘We are not in America Roosevelt. It is 221 we should call.’ One of the whipped out his old brick of a phone. And dialled the required number.

‘Yeah I am reporting a plane crash. No survivors.’ There were a voice on the other end asking questions.

‘French alps. I don’t know when she died. There is snow covering her though. Like a couple of millimeters. I have not touched anything.’


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