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I made a promise with my all too supportive friends, that when my tiny brand new author page hit 300 likes I would post the first three pages of Breaking Faith. I guess this also proves I have actually created a book, and I am not just blowing smoke up people’s butts. So without further procrastination…

Breaking Faith

Chapter 1

“Oww, shit!” I cried, as I pulled my oozing finger back and stuck it in my mouth.

Glaring at the offending messenger bag, or more specifically the felonious paper sticking out of it, I fought back the tears and expelled a bitter laugh.

My eyes stayed glued to the awful document that signified escape. How dare it hurt me! It was a paper replica of the person it was protecting me from, a façade of security but in reality nothing but pain.

I glanced back at my injured finger to see if anymore blood came trickling out. A thin red line appeared, nothing more. No rivulets of crimson, no summoning of vampires for an all-you-can-suck buffet, just a small droplet of blood, nothing major. I grabbed a tissue to wipe it away, crisis averted. Life continued.

I snuggled further into my hoodie as the interior of my lime-green 67′ Mustang cooled in the night air. My body begged me to turn on the heater. I refused, afraid of getting too comfortable.

I was parked in front of a typical dive bar. The wood exterior was stained with matter that would horrify even the most seasoned forensic team.

A large neon sign on the top of the bar announced its name, Ray’s. It ignited the parking lot, bathing the closest cars in red. A marquee in the front boasted that Ray’s was the home of the JackholeS, a popular Portland band.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to fill myself with fake confidence, hoping this time to succeed, I didn’t.

I gave myself permission to dwell on Jason for five minutes. After that I would file him away in the dark recesses of my mind, just like the paperwork for the restraining order buried in the county clerk’s office.

Leaning back in the driver’s seat, I welcomed the images of my past as they flashed through my mind. I watched my own personal horror movie stuck on fast forward. Significant moments slowed, giving insight on how I ended up sitting in my car, outside a bar, broken and bruised.

*

When I received a scholarship out of state, excitement and heartbreak coursed through me. Oregon State University offered me an escape, the payment they required, I had to leave my dad.

My dad is a retired police chief, and my biggest supporter. My mom was the complete opposite, and couldn’t handle motherhood. Her mind was stuck in a high school mentality. On my fourth birthday she left, taking the amber-tinted bottles lining her bathroom sink with her.

After cleaning up my ruined party, my dad held me in a soul-crushing embrace, and told me it was us against the world. The older I became the more responsibilities I shouldered, taking his statement to heart.

I could never be the typical teenager my mommy-issues ran too deep. Parties and other rites of passage which shepherd a teen into adulthood, were not high on my list of priorities.