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Pull

by Rachel Van Dyken

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are

fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and

persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks,

service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be

the property of their respective owners, and are used only for

reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are

used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in

whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a

PULL

ISBN 978-0-9890783-0-6

Cover Art Designed by Laura Heritage

Prologue

Death is everywhere. You can’t escape it. You can’t hide

from it. And for me, the very minute I decided to embrace it as

inevitable, the planes of my universe shifted, leaving me more

confused and broken than I’d ever been in my entire life.

For me, death was the ultimate betrayal. For some, it was the

easy way out. I had no way of knowing that my life would change

so much in two short months. Maybe I wasn’t prepared for him .

I was happy in my darkness, at least that’s what I told

myself. Because life is cruel — it’s so damn cruel to give me what I

had and then rip it away. It’s cruel, because the minute I was finally

okay with being numb to the world — he showed up.

My heart wasn’t ready to be pieced together again. He did it

anyway.

My soul wasn’t prepared for heartbreak. He broke it

anyway.

My life wasn’t ready to be given to a soul mate. He stole it

anyway.

Everything has changed — even death. And all because of a

boy, who fell in love with a girl.

I sat down on the cold asphalt and bawled. I cried for me. I

cried for him. But most of all, I cried for all those minutes I was

allowed to breathe, when I deserved to be without breath. How do

you thank someone who saved your life? How do you mourn them

at the same time?

I struggled against the cop and then, I must have died,

because the very person I thought I lost not a few minutes ago was

standing over me.

“Demetri?” I gasped.

Pull - van Dyken.pdf