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.perfect imperfect.


.prologue. | .chapter one. | .chapter two.


It was one of those days. A day that seemed to be a little less-than-perfect. Although, they never saw it that way.

They saw it as an opportunity.

They saw a day where the clouds are so gray, that they almost look like fine-grained powder suspended high above the horizon.

Where the wind blows at just the right speed, that is, if you wanted to, you could pick up your feet and float away. No one would miss you.

Just an average less-than-perfect summer day.

Their town is not a small town, but one with good morals. Where you feel comforted when you walk home from school on the cracked sidewalks, kicking the stray rocks far in front of you, watching them tumble, then kicking them again.

Where the television weathermen all look like someone's daddy, and probably are.

Where you don't feel dumb for bringing the teacher an apple on the first day of school.

Where your best friends always live right down the street.

And, most significantly, where at the times when you need to talk to someone in the middle of the night, they never hesitate to awaken and aid you in your dilemmas.

In a town where it seems to be full of bliss, things are kept secret. And those secrets are those that can ruin lives, break hearts, kill the innocentor the guiltyand, most importantly, stand the test of time.

.chapter one.