Don't Take The Test

Don't Take The Test

Gavin

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It was SAT day, a pivotal moment, when a text from my brother Michael – vanished three years ago – shattered the calm: "Don't take the test!" My stomach twisted. He' d resurfaced. But how? Then, my world truly fractured. My 'Mom' entered, her smile unsettlingly wide, her familiar mole bizarrely on the wrong side. Her reflection in the mirror seemed to melt. My 'Dad' also felt wrong, his touch cold, wearing a hated rival's jersey. These weren't my parents. My home, my family, had become an unnerving performance. As they subtly pressured me towards the exam, even Michael's best friend, Ethan, joined their unsettling charade. A mysterious 'Dr. Reed' called, claiming Michael was dead, that I was hallucinating his texts, suffering from PTSD. They presented a fake funeral video with glaring inconsistencies. Was I insane? Was my grief twisting reality? Deep-seated defiance screamed no. Only a single, secret promise, known just to the real Michael and me, could slice through this elaborate deception. I texted him, and his perfect, instant reply confirmed it. This world was a meticulously crafted lie. Michael was alive, trapped somewhere. I had to break free, through every twisted layer of illusion, until I hunted down the true mastermind. My freedom, and Michael's, depended on it. And I was ready to crash this reality.

Introduction

It was SAT day, a pivotal moment, when a text from my brother Michael – vanished three years ago – shattered the calm: "Don't take the test!" My stomach twisted. He' d resurfaced. But how?

Then, my world truly fractured. My 'Mom' entered, her smile unsettlingly wide, her familiar mole bizarrely on the wrong side. Her reflection in the mirror seemed to melt. My 'Dad' also felt wrong, his touch cold, wearing a hated rival's jersey. These weren't my parents. My home, my family, had become an unnerving performance.

As they subtly pressured me towards the exam, even Michael's best friend, Ethan, joined their unsettling charade. A mysterious 'Dr. Reed' called, claiming Michael was dead, that I was hallucinating his texts, suffering from PTSD. They presented a fake funeral video with glaring inconsistencies.

Was I insane? Was my grief twisting reality? Deep-seated defiance screamed no. Only a single, secret promise, known just to the real Michael and me, could slice through this elaborate deception. I texted him, and his perfect, instant reply confirmed it. This world was a meticulously crafted lie. Michael was alive, trapped somewhere. I had to break free, through every twisted layer of illusion, until I hunted down the true mastermind. My freedom, and Michael's, depended on it. And I was ready to crash this reality.

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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