Cracked Coffins #1 | SAMPLE |

Chapter One - Sample

Author's Note: Here are the first 3 published chapters of Cracked Coffins Book One. I hope you enjoy! If you want to read the whole book it's now available by following this link (it's clickable on my profile as well): www.books2read.com/CrackedCoffins

Forever thanks for all the support, and I hope you enjoy the sample chapters! <3

CHAPTER ONE

Another year has passed, and though nothing has really changed, everything is different.

For the second year in a row I stare at my history quiz. Ancient Civilizations Unit Test is typed across the top of the page, the questions only half filled out. I'll be lucky to pass with a fifty percent mark, which is twenty percent more than the last time I did grade ten. I've attended more classes this time around, but still, the information I have on ancient Rome and Egypt isn't relevant enough to the questions that have me glowering at my paper.

It's unfortunate my teachers stopped mercy-passing me once I finished ninth grade.

My leg bounces as I flip back and forth through the stapled pages. I root through my brain for the answers, but only facts of unknown origins present themselves to me and I can't remember anything Mr. Derek taught us that I didn't already write down. Even if I had studied or attended every class, the feeling of impending doom that runs through me like a cold chill makes it hard to concentrate.

I do my best to focus on the test and distract myself from the fact that I turn seventeen tomorrow, but the reality that I'll likely fail again still doesn't overshadow my birthday.

With a frustrated exhale, I lean forward in my desk. Any information that might have been on its way to me is intercepted by the feeling of my cigarette pack in the pocket of my jeans as it presses into my hip bone.

I inhale sharply and tap the back of my pencil against my test. While I tuck my long sandy-brown hair behind my ear, my gaze shifts to the clock. Five minutes left.

Birthdays have always been hard for me. While most kids would celebrate their seventeenth birthday with joy, knowing that they only have one more year before freedom, the reality of it makes me want to smoke until I can't breathe anymore.

All my birthday represents to me is that I have one year left before aging out of the foster care system. I know I won't be dropped onto the street as soon as the clock strikes midnight, but the statistics and the flimsy promise of government help do nothing to aid my anxiety.

My heart thumps with each tick of the second hand, the sound echoing in the silent room. I remember to write my name quick on the test—Marianna Cortez—and leave the pencil on the desk where it was when I sat down.

As soon as the minute hand hits twelve, I stand and weave through desks before dropping my test down in front of Mr. Derek and turning back on my heels. If he says anything, his voice is lost in the sound of the dismissal bell.

Classrooms empty, the hallway of our overcrowded high school filling with the noise of rowdy students and slamming lockers as I step into it. I shove my way toward the closest exit while digging in my pocket for my lighter. The deep and familiar voice of the security guard yelling a warning at someone near the far end of the hall makes me stumble, but I continue until someone grabs a fistful of my hoodie and stops me in my tracks.

I'm pulled out of the rush of students and find myself between a pastel yellow locker and Carston—a senior who has no good reason to be in the tenth-grade hall right now.

"No," I growl as his lips part to speak, trying to shove around him so I can get outside and smoke before break is over.

He holds his hand up, flashing the dark glob of heroin in the corner of a tied and torn sandwich bag.