My Beating Teenage Heart
“But the light isn’t nearly powerful enough to stretch far enough. It can’t and even if it could there’s not much to see. Oranges. Vague memories of snow and ice. The knowledge that my name is Ashlyn. Ashlyn Baptiste to be precise.Grateful as I am for my lightning-bolt moment, I wanted more. A landslide of information, the story of my life flashing through my head with the speed of a super computer upload. Instead, so far I’m not any wiser about myself than I was yesterday morning. I’m that same... cutout novel I described before, name and age pasted on the cover but so full of holes it’s unreadable.The funny thing is that even with the majority of my backstory missing, I’m feeling more like myself, as though my thought patterns are homing in on my Ashlyn nature, digging down to the core and dragging up a more distilled Ashlyn, even if they don’t know what that means yet, to the surface of my being.I don’t know what any of it means yet. I can’t digest why my mind would offer up this gloomy grieving vision of Breckon and his world.MoreLess
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