The True Fake Life Of Kimberly Ryans by Alexis R. Chavers (most romantic novels .txt) 📖

each others gazes. "Why are you staring at me like that?" I ask Zach, walking off. He follows immediantly, and answers my question, "Your eyes." He says. I scan my face with a handheld mirror in my purse. I felt so stupid. I looked at him and I was waiting for him to say something like, "You got a pimple!" or something childish like that, thats how boys are. Whether or not their in seventh grade. But instead he surprised me. "Don't freak out. I mean their beautiful your eyes, when you smile they sparkle. It's unique." he says. I didn't know what to say, was he flirting? With me?!? Oh god, I need to go. Now. "I got to go." I say running off into the meadow and far from the track. "Kimberly!" he calls. I stop and turn around. I can't leave him, not like that. But I can't stay. "I'm sorry, thank you but I have to leave." I yell back. My voice echoes and as if on perfect timing, to much of a coincidence someone grabs me. From behind, I look ahead and Zach's gone. "Zach let go. I'm not scared." he doesn't say anything, but he breaths heavily. "If you don't answer me, I swear Zachary Foul, I will scream." I say, I can feel his hands grip tighter around my twisted arms behind my back. Zach grunts, as if he thinks I'm bluffing. "Fine. 3...2...1..." I whisper, then right when I belt out Zach he quickly clamps his hand over my mouth. I struggle to remove his greasy hand, but he puts something on a napkin and puts it under my nose. The smell, the taste in my mouth, my vision blurred and something happened.
Suddenly, my mind shut off.
'It's not Zach.'. Was my last thought.


I don't know what time it is. I haven't got a clue where I am. God, I can't even remember WHO I am. My vision is blurry, so I have to blink several times before my eyes settle. I'm on a cold, moist, concrete floor. There's not a window in the room I'm in. So I don't know whether it's night or day. A door creaks and I shut my eyes. Heavy boots pound against the floor and I hear something metal slide against the concrete getting closer. It sails toward the wall and the person leaves the dark room slamming the door, and as they do the metal bounces against the wall again. For a moment I sit there in silence. Trying to take it all in and figure out who I am. I have nothing to go off of. I look myself over and find blue bruises running along my left calf, and soon to be scars on my right arm. My right eye-sight is shady and I have a hard time making out the muddy wall in front of me. I'm guessing it's raining outside, because the whole floors filled with water. I hadn't just noticed until now, that it was ankle deep and my hair was wet since I was on the floor. I tried to remember, to pull something out of the back of my mind. But my head persistently held it back. I could only remember snippits of memories. I remember walking somewhere with a boy, around my age I guess. I could never see his face though, it blurred right through. I always tried to touch his face, or say something very important, but the words were scripted. No matter how I hard screamed 'Who Am I?' or 'Where are we? Who are you?', I always ended up saying, "Why are you staring at me like that?" and the boy answered my question with "Your eyes.". Other times when I would not dream about him, I dreamed about two little girls who were sisters. One was named Marie, but the other I never heard. Marie would call her, Kay, or sis. Maybe her name was Kay, I would never know most likely. For some reason I wanted to tug out more information about them. I loved dreaming about them, they made me smile, because they were happy. I wish the little girls were here to make me be happy, like they were. But I will probably never leave this cold, dark, empty room. I will never see the sun again, or the face of the boy I once knew. "I can't give up." I hear someone say. After seconds of silence, I realize the stiff voice, was me.
My curiosity gets the best of me, and I slide across the floor, trying to be quiet and reach the metal bowl on the concrete. Inside there's a salad, and a note. I swallow down the whole salad, so quickly with my hands that I didn't even have the crispy taste in my mouth long. I wasn't as hesitant with the salad as I was with the note. The man could've poisoned me and I wouldn't even know. After contemplating what I should expect on the paper, I open it.

In script it says, "Hello, Kimberly, I hope you like the food I made.
I will not hurt you, if you listen to me. Your
next meal will be in a couple of hours. When I
am able to trust you completely you will get
a bed, and a clock and all of your necessary
items. But for now, you shall enjoy the cott
I am bringing." Sincerely, R.S.

Who was this man? Is that my name, Kimberly? What's my last name? Who's R.S.? So many questions, so little time.


Days went by. Months it felt like. I haven't had any more messages from R.S., but I have remembered some stuff. That my name really is Kimberly Ryan. That I'm a seventh grader in middle school. I even turned thirteen a month ago, I think. I still sleep on the now dry floor. I have only seen R.S. once, and all I saw was his short black hair. He came in, thinking I was asleep and dropped off four outfits of clothes, that remained untouched in a corner closest to the door. Like he had promised he didn't hurt me....yet. I hear heavy footsteps. I must be quiet, but I can't. Our first real encounter.
The door swings open. :I see your awake." he says. "Where am I?" I ask, my voice shaking. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry." he says, setting down a cott, and sitting next to me on the floor. I scoot towards the wall, but he grabs my hand. "I wish you knew. You understood. I won't hurt you." he says, rubbing his other hand on my face. I start to cry, and without thinking bury my face into his thick T-Shirt. I didn't even feel stupid, because he was the only person I could hold onto. "It's ok." was all her said. We sat there so long, I almost forgot the fact that he kid-napped me. "Why? Why did you do this? To me?" I ask in a hush voice as if someone else is here and this is a secret only he can know. "Take you? I can't tell you. I apologize." he replied. I let go of his shirt, and stand for the first time in a long time. My knees give out, and I fall back to the ground, my head hammering against the floor. "Are you ok? Kimberly? One minute, I'll be right back." he says. My eyes are blurry, and as I watch as two of him leave the room I notice he leaves the door open. I stagger to my feet, and walk uncomfortably out of the room and up seven stairs. Light catches my eye, it springs out everywhere. I shift to my right foot and clumsily run to a door that looks as if it leads outside. "Kimberly!" I hear R.S. scream. "Where are you?" He asks angrily. "I walk out the door and run. Run where, I don't know, all I know is I don't look back. "Come back!" I hear him yell, from the porch. This is where my mistake happens. I look back at him. My balance collapses, and I hear him running. Then it feels like just the beginning.

She's lying on the ground, her feet in a tangle of branches and her hands lay helplessly in the muddy dirt. I pick her up and she tries to speak, but all that comes out is, "Yuh" and bits and pieces of other in-complete words. I am taking care of a child, when thats all I am. I don't know how I live with myself, but I just can. Even though I can, theres not a moment in my day when I don't think about my parents, murder. I was only thirteen, not that long ago, I am only fifteen now, but I feel much older. I push them out of my mind, and began to ponder what to do, once she wakes up. I enter the house, and close the front door and lock it. The last thing I need is for her to hurt herself even more.

She doesn't have any cuts amazingly, but she has a number of scratches. I set the last pillow on the cott, and lay her under the bed. Kimberly is like a beautiful nightmare, and if only she knew as much about me as I know about her, if we met differently, she might've gave me a chance. We met online, a month ago, and we talked a lot. Now that we met, I can't believe my eyes. I have dreamed about Kim every night, and she doesn't even know my name. Well, she does, but she can't remember since I took her. It's only a matter of time, till' she pieces everything together.- R.S.
Getting closer and Receiving the Message

I'M ONCE AGAIN IN THE SMALL DESERTED ROOM, but instead of being on the ground, which has a large rug covered in black fur, I am laying on a mattress with a blanket and proper pillows. I have a Tv, not a flatscreen, just a small one set atop of