High schooler, Helena Gallagher is still recovering from life's latest tragedy when chaos occurs.
Another murder.
Only this one is much closer to home. And when fingers start pointing towards her boyfriend-Elliot-she has no choice but to intervene...
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Elliot,
I don't expect you to mourn for me. I know I haven't been good to you over the years. You might think I hate you. That I don't love you. But, I do.
The truth is, for the longest time, I hated that I did. I hated that every time I looked at your face, I wanted to hold you and kiss you. I hated your sweet, innocent voice. I hated that I couldn't tell you the truth—that I'm your mother.
Perrie told me what happened. What he did to you and Cecelia. And I'm going to be completely honest—it's what made me finally decide to get revenge on the bastard. Carl ruined my life and I let him. I let him destroy my confidence. My friendships. Don't make the same mistakes I did. Talk to people. Share your experience. And allow yourself to be loved.
You're a great person, Elliot, and I'm proud of the man you've become.
Be kind to yourself.
I love you, Sarah.
****
Because you guys are the best readers a Wattpad writer could ever wish for, I thought I'd share the opening of Simon Says...
Truth or Death is also SO CLOSE to hitting 100k reads, and I'd appreciate it if you guys could go ahead and tell your friends how amazing it is (don't mind me blowing smoke up my own ass). Ten cool points for anyone who shares it on social media and tags me in it! ;)
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Love you guys so much! Enjoy the teaser...
****
I shouldn't be here.
I should be driving around town in Sarah's ten-year-old Sedan. Making out with Dan in Rockaby park. Hell, even babysitting the Miller twins beats this.
Summer school.
Lincoln High is barely tolerable during semesters, let alone in the summer months. With bad paint jobs and worn furniture, it's a wonder it functions as a school. The place is a health and safety hazard if you as me. But that's just it. No one is asking me. They don't care. About what I feel. About how the reason I failed my junior year in the first place is because I'm dyslexic. They'd rather shove me in catch up classes and forget there's an issue. God forbid addressing the actual problem.
"Perrie!" I'm snapped from my daze by the distant sound of wheels on the pavement. "Wait up!"
I hit pause on my music and screech to a stop in my roller skates, scuffing the sides as I do so. Sarah–my best friend–comes gliding over in her much shabbier pair, frowning. Her blonde hair appears almost white, reflecting in the morning sun. Angelic. Which is ironic, given she spawns from the Devil himself.
