A/N: So this isn't my first story on here, but I decided to start over fresh because I have improved a great deal in my writing in the last three years. The first three chapters are kind of short (under 1,000 words), but I promise they get longer. The description of this story says Romance, but I'm not sure which way I am going to go in that department. I have several different options and I believe I have found a way to mix it all in together. So enjoy the story and R&R (Flames welcomed readily)
Philosophies
Dreams are the human brains way of escaping its fears and facing its fears. My foster mother told me that when I was thirteen and I guess I never forgot it. I actually lived by it for a couple of years. As the years went by, I kind of warped that little philosophy into one of my own. I used my logic and figured that if I faced my fear in my dreams that I had automatically faced it in life. When I was seventeen I told my health teacher my philosophy. She laughed. She just flat out laughed and then advised my foster parents and my principal that I needed therapy. I guess that is where my story really began, because before that I was living in a body that actually believed people would want to really help you. I promised myself from then on that only I could know my thoughts and prayers (at one time I really believed there was a God.
I went through college never letting anyone get close to me. When anyone would get to close I would remind myself of that high pitched laughing and push them away and ask them to never contact me again. I left college with only one person ever even being able to touch the surface of who I really was. In a way, Gil was almost a father to me. He was gentle and told me that I was beautiful and that I was intelligent. Those were words I had seldom heard from my biological father when he was sober, but at the same time heard more then I could handle as he was on top of me ruining my innocence. It hurt at first to hear those words from Gil's mouth, but I realized after a while that he wasn't trying to steal anything from me. So I let him in. It was bare minimum by anyone's standards, but it sure was a hell of a lot by my own. I let him know things like what my favorite color was or what type of music I liked. He was the first person to ever really know what my favorite food was. He was just such a gentle talker that when he asked me a question I felt so comfortable sharing it with him. Through it all, I never thought of him romantically. Romance to me was nothing. I had it set in my mind that I was never going to get married, I was never going to have kids, I was never going to have the chance to cheat or do anything a woman in love does. So I left college, with one person knowing who I was and I left college almost as lonely as I had entered.
I left college never thinking of Gil again. I guess he thought of me because years went by and then one day I got a phone call. I got off the phone shaking, not believing who it was. I didn't think anyone had remembered me after I had met them. I knew that when I left SFPD that no one would remember me in a year. For the first time in my life, I was truly scared. Scared that someone had known who I was and scared that they still knew who I was. I was scared to death, but somehow found myself watching dummies flying off a roof six hours later. I truly don't remember how I got there, but I plastered on a smile for the one person who remembered me and hoped to whoever the hell received this prayer that this man wouldn't want to pick off from where he left off.
Seven years later, I wish I believed in God because boy have I gotten myself into some deep shit and I need help getting out.