Reckless Mind is my first New Adult novel and it releases in 3 weeks. It can be read as a standalone, but will be the first book of the the Reckless series, and as of right now I am looking at 3 books to complete the series. The characters you meet in the first book are the characters you will see throughout the entire series, but each book will focus on a different person specifically. The first book, Reckless Mind, focuses on Kahlen Jourdan. (Check out previous post for blurb and cover!!!!)
Here you go, ENJOY!!!
Looking through the cold water covering my head in the deep round bath sitting in the middle of the room, my body long since trained not to struggle, I no longer responded. Eight small cracks covered the peeling eggshell colored ceiling. One semi large spider hung in a corner. My lungs ached, I fought against it. Dim moonlight came in through the parted curtains blowing ever so slightly with the summer breeze coming in the window. This wasn't my first, or twentieth, time in this position. I used to think my life would end this way, or another equally tragic scenario, at the hands of people who should love me.
I had long since removed my heart from everything involving my life. All I experienced and saw love be was an excuse to receive forgiveness for words cutting across wrists like knives, for hands that leaving marks behind dusting the skin in various shades of black, for meaningless relationships paraded around to break a heart, and unspeakable actions surely meant to break the mind. But as long as the words I'm sorry were uttered all was to be forgotten.
Today I'd leave the bullshit behind, start my new life. Bringing my head above water I pulled in gasped breaths through my mouth quietly, cloudy vision began to right itself. I didn't deserve to breathe, or so I was told, my mere existence ruined lives. How many lives I'm not sure. It seemed only theirs, but then again I didn't let anyone close enough to me to be certain.
They didn't know I'd leave or where I'd go. No number or address would be left behind on the pristine fake marble counter in their precious kitchen, I wouldn't take a single piece of clothing or shoes they ever begrudgingly gave me. I'd had a job for the last year and a half, secretly saving money. They never knew because that would involve caring about something other than what I could get them. To them I equaled a monthly paycheck, a flaunted pawn used in obtaining connections.
Everyone in my life wanted something from me. Everyone. If I couldn't provide what they deemed necessity I was punished, scars and memories mark my body and mind making sure I never forgot what love would do to me.
I didn't speak to the people I was forced to live with, even if I did it would fall on deaf ears. Friends were easy to come by in high school, but I played a role. I gave them what they wanted to see on the outside. Hanging out at football and basketball games, talking in school, but that's where it ended. No one ever came to my house, no one knew the real me. Guys tried to date me, they flirted, and I was well informed of certain touches and actions to make a man want me. Sometimes I found myself doing these things out of habit to the boys in school, but nothing progressed. They'd call me a tease, I'd roll my eyes and tell them they were stupid to think I'd ever want them in the first place.
At night I'd cry myself to sleep because I did, I did want them. Not any of them specifically, but I wanted even one person to want me for me. Only I didn't know who I was, not really, and I still didn't. That's why I was moving across the country. I needed to find myself, figure out who I was, and work through my shit. Old habits have to be broken, and for fucks sake, I needed to try to be a person worthy of someone actually giving a shit about me.
I hear old habits are hard to break.
Three thirty in the morning, I throw on black skinny jeans, a grey oversized shirt, and flip flops. My bags have been packed for weeks, I pulled the two small duffles out from under my bed. The cab would be here in five minutes, my plane ticket tucked into my back pocket.
Silently I tip toed down the stairs and out the front door, mentally flipping the whole place off. Not a single tear ran down my face as I walked away from the house that was a prison instead of a home. And so I repeated to myself the same thing I had been since I decided to leave.
My name is Kahlen Jourdan.
My mind is royally messed up.
I'm moving across the country to start over.
I'm going to college.
I will get my shit together.
But...I will never fall in love.
© Heather Wiginton January 2014