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The Perfect Storm - Chapter 1
With a wild, alert look, the young boy standing on the wooden boardwalk promptly stepped forward, closer and closer to the unknown. He was alone now. His brother's sword was all he had left to his name, and he treasured it so greatly that he held it there with his left hand even as it rested in its sheath. The warm summer breeze played with his dark hair as he bit his lip in contemplation.
Before him were three great ships, all making port in the city he was forced to call home. The last one in the row he had his sights on; it was the cleanest, newest ship on the waters. With three tall masts and painted in purple and gold, it was all a boy ever hoped to sail on. The long, elegant letters painted on the side were intriguing to him. The Freeman. Smiling ever so slightly, he sauntered toward the ship that he hoped to captain one day. Then he snorted at his thoughts. "Captain," he murmured aloud. "Even Ja
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
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