Read Online The Illusion of Annabella by Jessica Sorensen - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Sorensen
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like that I do, I start to grow worried. I don’t know how he got the information, but what I do know is that Miller is currently on probation for breaking and entering.
Is that what’s going to end up happening to me? Do I care? What do I care about anymore? I vibrate with anger. How am I supposed to be the Dangerous Annabella I’m pretending to be with all these thoughts in my head?
Shoving the thoughts from my head, I look out the window as Miller makes a turn down Fairfield Lane.
Extravagant two and three story homes border the quiet street lined with cherry blossom trees, and the grey sky casts shadows across the perfectly landscaped yards. The scene is almost too perfect. Like I know all too well, though, nothing is perfect, and I quickly spot the flaw—the murky streams flowing through the gutters.
I glance up at the cloudy sky as uneasiness seeps into my bones. “It’s not even dark yet. People might see us.”
“It’ll look more suspicious if we show up at night,” he replies as he turns into a paved driveway that leads to a brick mansion.
He parks in front of the garage and shuts off the engine. The rain has turned the yard and sidewalks into a giant puddle, completely ruining everything in its path.
Maybe that’s where I’m headed. Perhaps I’m becoming as destructive as the rain, ruining my life, my family’s life.
“Your truck kind of stands out,” I say, anxiously glancing at all the expensive cars parked in the nearby driveways.
“As long as we pretend like we belong here, we’ll be fine. Besides, it’s raining so goddamn hard, you can barely see.” He rotates in the seat, raking his fingers through his blue hair. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want. I know you said you were up for anything, but you always say that, and sometimes I can tell you don’t mean it.”
His words piss me off. I don’t like that he’s right. That he can see that side of me. See the good girl I used to be.
I’m not her anymore! I can’t be!
All riled up, I stretch my arm toward the door handle. Grinning, Miller hops out into the rain as the sky booms and the rain quickens. Ignoring my mother’s voice inside my head, telling me this is wrong, I follow Miller up the driveway, staggering from left to right as the liquid concoction I drank earlier sloshes around in my brain.
Squeezing between the garage and the house, we sneak around to the back door. Miller jiggles the doorknob, but it’s locked.
“Stand back,” he says as he shucks off his jacket and wraps it around his fist.
I briefly contemplate running away, just disappearing into the rain. Push through the pain and run across the grass, keep going until my limbs ache and give out on me. But then Miller’s fist slams through the window, and my chance at backing out shatters like the glass.
Shooting me an excited look from over his shoulder, he snakes his arm through the broken window, flips the lock, and pushes open the door. I hold my breath, waiting for an alarm to go off. When it doesn’t, I’m disappointed, but fear backing out. What does that say about me if I back out? How will Miller see me? Will he still want to be with me? If I don’t have him to hang around with, then what does that leave me? With nowhere to escape to anymore.
We enter the house, stepping into a massive kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and marble countertops. My head swirls with confusion as we wander into the home. I lose track of time the deeper we go, the alcohol I drank blurring my mind even more. I can’t figure out who I am. How I got here. How to get out or if I even want to. It’s not like I actually need to steal anything. Still, I pick up a crystal swan figurine off one of the shelves, stuff it into my pocket, then head through the foyer and up the winding staircase, like a lost little girl drifting through a meaningless life with no
Is that what’s going to end up happening to me? Do I care? What do I care about anymore? I vibrate with anger. How am I supposed to be the Dangerous Annabella I’m pretending to be with all these thoughts in my head?
Shoving the thoughts from my head, I look out the window as Miller makes a turn down Fairfield Lane.
Extravagant two and three story homes border the quiet street lined with cherry blossom trees, and the grey sky casts shadows across the perfectly landscaped yards. The scene is almost too perfect. Like I know all too well, though, nothing is perfect, and I quickly spot the flaw—the murky streams flowing through the gutters.
I glance up at the cloudy sky as uneasiness seeps into my bones. “It’s not even dark yet. People might see us.”
“It’ll look more suspicious if we show up at night,” he replies as he turns into a paved driveway that leads to a brick mansion.
He parks in front of the garage and shuts off the engine. The rain has turned the yard and sidewalks into a giant puddle, completely ruining everything in its path.
Maybe that’s where I’m headed. Perhaps I’m becoming as destructive as the rain, ruining my life, my family’s life.
“Your truck kind of stands out,” I say, anxiously glancing at all the expensive cars parked in the nearby driveways.
“As long as we pretend like we belong here, we’ll be fine. Besides, it’s raining so goddamn hard, you can barely see.” He rotates in the seat, raking his fingers through his blue hair. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want. I know you said you were up for anything, but you always say that, and sometimes I can tell you don’t mean it.”
His words piss me off. I don’t like that he’s right. That he can see that side of me. See the good girl I used to be.
I’m not her anymore! I can’t be!
All riled up, I stretch my arm toward the door handle. Grinning, Miller hops out into the rain as the sky booms and the rain quickens. Ignoring my mother’s voice inside my head, telling me this is wrong, I follow Miller up the driveway, staggering from left to right as the liquid concoction I drank earlier sloshes around in my brain.
Squeezing between the garage and the house, we sneak around to the back door. Miller jiggles the doorknob, but it’s locked.
“Stand back,” he says as he shucks off his jacket and wraps it around his fist.
I briefly contemplate running away, just disappearing into the rain. Push through the pain and run across the grass, keep going until my limbs ache and give out on me. But then Miller’s fist slams through the window, and my chance at backing out shatters like the glass.
Shooting me an excited look from over his shoulder, he snakes his arm through the broken window, flips the lock, and pushes open the door. I hold my breath, waiting for an alarm to go off. When it doesn’t, I’m disappointed, but fear backing out. What does that say about me if I back out? How will Miller see me? Will he still want to be with me? If I don’t have him to hang around with, then what does that leave me? With nowhere to escape to anymore.
We enter the house, stepping into a massive kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and marble countertops. My head swirls with confusion as we wander into the home. I lose track of time the deeper we go, the alcohol I drank blurring my mind even more. I can’t figure out who I am. How I got here. How to get out or if I even want to. It’s not like I actually need to steal anything. Still, I pick up a crystal swan figurine off one of the shelves, stuff it into my pocket, then head through the foyer and up the winding staircase, like a lost little girl drifting through a meaningless life with no
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