The Girl Is Wanted (Book 1)

Prologue. Amelia Morgan.

Prologue. Amelia Morgan.

Cold, wet, bruised, and homeless.

I remember that day, yes, I do. A day I knew was coming for me ever since you checked out an apartment, in fear of the person after you, thinking he wouldn't find you. Yes, I remember a manager coming into my apartment with a sheriff holding a shot gun threatening to fire, if I didn't come with them. Yes, I do.

The smell of pasta fills my noise.

The last good smell I'll ever smell.

Bang. Like the sound of a shot gun went off in the apartment hallway.

"Open the door Ms. Morgan. We won't ask again", Yells the angry manager.

The door falls down as I take the last good thing in my life, the pasta sauce, the last bit of pure freedom, dissolves on my tongue.

The manager barges in with a Vanilla folder and a sheriff with a hand gun aimed at me and handcuffs on his side belt.

"Ms. Morgan, we need you to let us check this apartment, for information of the person in the name of kyato morgan," The sheriff says as I grip the knife behind me.

Kyato morgan, My father, most wanted man alive for the death of more than a million people and for nuclear science and nuclear activity with Africans.

No, they can't find that out about him, if they do I am dead, my brother will find me and kill me. I know I have nothing left to live up to, but I must try, I want my freedom, I want a life worth living not hell.

"No!" I say trying to run out of the room to the door.

Gun fire feels my ears. Not the first time I've been in this kind of violence. When my father was alive I would always hear people screaming in his lab as he killed them, in my little bedroom upstairs. When I had no clue my brother was a terrorist, no clue that I was hugging for life upstairs in his arms.

I run out of the front door of my apartment and my footsteps echo down the halls as I throw myself out of the window on my side, falling to the grass of the one story building. I stand and not even noticing the glass sticking in my skin, I run, and run.

"No!" I scream as more gun fire sounds.

As of now, I am on the run from the world and my brother and anyone who watches the news that has me on every television. I must become a different person, an alien to anyone.

I must become invisible, and that means, I must never come out to meet anyone.