AZRIEL. A love written in blood.

Be careful what you wish for ‘cause you never know which is true or which isn’t. As a fiction lover myself, I basically see everything on a fictional basis, and hell, I’d even wish for my own fictional bad boy. My very own Edward Cullen… or my own Jacob to spice things up.

But those are every teenage girl’s dreams, right?

So why did mine have to be taken seriously?

This should be the dream of every college girl. King-size bed. A wardrobe with every type of clothing you can imagine. A room painted in soft pink and purple, complete with a flat-screen TV that covers half the wall.

Anything you could ever want is here except one thing: freedom.

The freedom I’ve longed for, for so long.

The freedom to just leave.

To have a say in anything, even something small.

To not be eyed like prey.

To not be scared that my life could end at any second.

God, how much I wish I could take back the clock to the very night everything changed. Maybe if I’d known, I would’ve made a different choice. Maybe if I had just stayed home. Or turned back the second I sensed something was off.

OCTOBER 31st, 2052

Twirling around in front of the mirror, “What do you think of this outfit, Zoya?”

I’d moved out of my parents’ house a few months back, and this was the first Halloween I’d be spending with my roommate in our tiny apartment in Central Florida. Not like my parents care. Their work means everything to them even more than their own daughter.

Zoya sprang up from the bed and walked toward me, adjusting the wings on my vampire-inspired costume. “It’s as spooky as the word spooky.”

“You think I should add anything else? Maybe a hose or a hairband? I got a really cute one from the thrift store, it might match perfectly.”

She brought a hand to her chin, circling me with narrowed eyes. I stood still, waiting. “Hmm… I think the outfit’s just perfect. Maybe just a little ribbon in your hair. Anything more would ruin it.”

“You sure?” I asked, smoothing the hem of the dress.

The costume consisted of a tantalizing short gown with a fitted bodice that showcased my daring neckline. But the real showstopper? The bat-like wings sprouting from my shoulders and curving behind my neck. Lightweight material, intricate Gothic details freakin’ awesome.

“Absofuckenlutely,” Zoya said, bringing her fingers together in the ‘chef’s kiss’ sign.

Ding… ding… ding.

“Did you hear that?” I turned around, tracing the direction of the sound.

“Hear what?”

“I think someone’s phone is ringing.”

“Ooh…definitely mine!” Zoya bolted toward the drawer.

“Why do you keep putting your phone on silent? You’re going to miss something important one day,” I called out.

“It’s Fred,he’s asking if we’re getting ready…”

“Tell him I am. Can’t say the same for you.”

“Chill, Aya. It’s just past four. We’ve got all night.”

“That’s not the point.