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Read books online ยป Fantasy ยป Meant Together by Lina Wells (top 10 most read books in the world .txt) ๐Ÿ“–

Book online ยซMeant Together by Lina Wells (top 10 most read books in the world .txt) ๐Ÿ“–ยป. Author Lina Wells



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Emmet Leon Donner
I lay with the blanket gathered at my waist, sun spilling from the window behind my head warming my face and chest. It would be a nice day for early December, though there was a foot of snow blanketing the ground just five feet below me. Stretching, I knew Jackyl would want to cut wood today and prepared my muscles for a good work out. This was fine by me. The more wood we chopped, the more money we'd get in town and the less mother would have to worry about the debt we were in for Gords medical bills and how we'de save our land from the bank.
Shaking my head, I leaned up and looked around the room. Taylor was tucked in the corner paralell to me, sprawled so that one leg was bent upright and the other was dangeling over the side of the mattress. Across from him was Gordan who was sleeping as he always did, rolled on his side with both hands tucked under his cheek. The red glowing numbers on Taylors alarm read 6:45 a.m.
Sighing, I pulled myself to my feet and dragged them to the bathroom. Turning the faucet on cold I cupped my hands and let the icy water run for a few seconds before filling them and splashing my face. The shock of the cold had me instantly awake. Stepping out of the bathroom, I looked out the window behind Taylors sleeping form towards mother and Jackyls cottage and saw no smoke from the chimney, a sure sign that they were still asleep. Another sigh, I sat down on the matress that was my bed and looked out at the white world before me.
In front of our two small cottages was an old dirt road, though you couldn't distinguish it through the snow. Across the gravel was a long, light blue trailor. Recenlty, the old women, Ms. Hemp, who occupied it had paid me rather well to add a porch and ramp to the front and back. The poor woman never had any company and everyone in the small town of Brookstone called her " that freaky old lady". From her appearance, I had to admit, the poor woman did look the part. Hair bleached to such a blonde it screamed white, clothes bright, vibrant, overbearing, colors clashing. Tons of necklaces and bracelets and earrings with over large, tacky beads and stones hanging from them. Definitely different, but I liked her. She was kind and paid me well for the odd jobs I did for her, such as the new porch and ramps.
I looked again towards the other cottage and saw that mother and Jackyl were awake, thick smoke now billowing from the chimney. The first thing my mother did every morning was to make coffee and cook a big breakfast for her boys. Just as my stomach started to growl from the thoughts of frying bacon and eggs, another rumbling caught my attention. A blue pick up pulled in front of the trailor. I hadn't even noticed the absence of the vehicle and wondered where the woman had gone. One old, banged up door opened revealing Ms. Hemp. She walked to the bed and pulled out a purple suite case. The passenger door opened and a young girl jumped out.
Rushing to the old lady, she took the bag, her lips moving fast. Ms. Hemp laughed, shook her head and took the suitcase back. She disappeared into the trailor leaving the girl standing there for a moment. Then she too bent to reveal a smaller, matching bag and went inside. All this my brain registered, but I couldn't take my eyes off the girl. She was on the shorter side, hair pulled up high with what looked like chop sticks. I couldn't distinguish the color, maybe dark red with some lighter tones. Curvy, yet a little on the thin side, I could tell she was beautiful. I decided right then i'de definitely need a closer look.
I stood and called out to my younger brothers to wake their butts up. "Tay, come on! Jackyl's gonna want our help today." As I shrugged out of my sweats and slipped on some worn jeans, I didn't hear them waking up. Taking a running start, I pounced ontop of Taylor. Letting out a startled screech, his eyes flew open in terror. When he saw me above him, laughing so hard my side was cramping, his eyes narrowed into angry slits. "Emmet!? What the hell is wrong with you!? You could give someone a heart attack!" Still laughing, I made my way to my youngest brothers side.
Bending down, I softly shook Gord's shoulder until he stirred to reality. "Emmet...what is it?" For a moment, I couldn't say anything as I looked into his eyes. Even after all these years they still got to me. Two large, black eyes. Not the kind where the colors were so dark they looked black either, but I mean actually black! The pupils were bigger too, dominating, leaving little white. Looking into them, you could feel yourself being sucked in, swallowed into an endless nothing. The longer you stared the more you felt yourself slipping away into something dark, cold, evil.
"But it hadn't always been like this..." a voice weasled in my head. Gords eyes had been a light, soft blue when he was a baby, but on his fourth birthday right at 12:02, he'd opened them and they were black. When he'de turned eight, he started having terrible nightmares, nightmares he never would tell us about. At twelve, the pain started, and not normal pain. They would be in his stomach one instant, then ripping down his back the next. At the three brothers birthday five weeks ago, Gords nightmares and pain got so bad that he'd wake up with a matress soaked in sweat and vomit.
"Emmet, is it time to get up now?" Gords voice was slightly worried. The doctors didn't know what was wrong. Some said night terrors, others said bad blood circulation in certain parts of his brain and muscles. Nothing but big words I can't even remember. He'd been poked and prodded, scanned and cut open until he finally begged our mother to just let him be. He couldn't take the pain of the tests and the surgeries, not to mention none of them had even come close to helping. In fact, I think they made it worse.
"Emmet, its alright I feel ok today. See, i'm as healthy as a horse. Emmet!" Gord's soft voice trying to be loud brought me out of my dark thoughts. He was bouncing on the bed in front of him, proving his health. For today at least. Shaking my head, I really needed to get a handle on the bad thoughts today, I walked to the dresser to get a shirt. "Yeah Gord, time to get up. We got a long, hard day of work ahead of us." Behind me Gord smiled even though he knew he was too sick to work.


Collete Ariella Hemp
As the old truck made its way down the dirt roads, my butt kept bouncing up and down on the cracked leather seats, worse when the tires met the big pot holes sprinkled throughout the gravel. My grandmother, Ariella Virginia Hemp or Ginger as everyone including myself called her, was driving in the seat beside me, humming softly to herself. We haden't said more than a word to each other since we'de gotten on the plane back in Florida. Florida; sunny, hot, muggy Florida. I wouldn't miss it at all. I'm not very good at making friends, especially in places where every person was the same but you.
Everyone at Sunnyhills High was either bleached blonde or chestnut brown with great bods, great tans and great legs that went forever. That did not decribe me at all. Barely 5'3, plain faced, too thin, straight as a post, and pale as a ghost. Yep, thats more like it. My hair was three different colors, naturally. If one were to grab a lock and examine it, they would find every strand was either an ultra light blonde, crimson red, or coal black. It was long like the other valley girls sure, but intsead of straight, silky, and smooth it was a wild mess of frizzy, curls that forever refused to be tamed.
The main reason people had marked me as an outsider though, were my eyes. They were what scared most people off, a black so dark they were unnatural. Too large, both in size and pupil and not much white. Definitely different. Most people, a.k.a the bitches of Valleyhigh, said it was because I had no soul, that I was a freak, a witch, a satanist. Said I couldn't feel emotion, couldn't cry. Idiots! I cursed at the memories. How wrong people could be. My eyes were still swollen and red from all the crying I had done at the funeral yesterday and last night.
Shaking my head, I exstinguished the thoughts. You don't live in sunny Florida anymore. You now live in Brookstone, Colorado. Located on the base of the Rocky mountains, a tiny little town made up of only 500 people with a single paved road, buildings running down both sides. It's like they ran out of tar and all the busineses had to crowd together. The town was surrounded by thick woods, mostly evergreens and other conifers, as they disappeared up the mountain. Gravel roads led out in every direction like a large, entangled spider web.
Ginger turned down one such road and drove for what felt like forever. As we bumped along, I turned my attention to the world passing by my window. It was beautiful, everything covered with snow. It glimmered and glittered in the light of the early sun rising above the trees, the wind causing dancing flurries of powder to fly in every direction. I sighed at the peace and purity of the world I now found myslef in, the glass of the window fogging with my breath. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Beside me, my grandmother nearly made me jump out of my skin as she broke the silence of so many hours. "Here we are Lettie! Your new home!"
I looked towards Gingers pointing finger and felt my stomach drop. The trailor, oh my god a trailor, was light baby blue with a darker trim . The door was a dark red and looked like it needed paint. The windows all had plastic over them and the shutters were a crude orange. The nicest part of the trailor was an added porch with a ramp. I snuck a look at Ginger. For being 62, my grandmother looked pretty good, though her sense of style was missing. Not that I could talk seeing as how I repped the queen of boring attire title. Still, I wondered why she needed a ramp.
As we pulled in I noticed a small, square building suspened in the air between some trees across the road from the trailor. It was cute and matched the bigger home a few feet from it. Both were made of logs and had tin rooves, the bigger sporting a chimney made of what looked like polished river rocks. It was beautiful and serene nestled between the woods, surrounded by a back drop of white.
Ginger turned off the engine and jumped out. I sat in the cab for a few moments longer, trying to even out my breathing. Maybe I could get a job, save up some money, get a car and..and..and what you moron? Go back to Florida where

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