This is the story of Mark Smith. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.
*Currently under construction. Thank you for your time.
**If you wish to save the story, I attached the original copy.

“Where are you going?” She shouted.

“Away,” was my reply. I slammed the door. I had had enough. I’m 19, and she still treats me like I’m 4, I thought. My things were already my car, so I turned the key and drove off.

My names Mark Smith. Simple right? Plain and simple. But I’m no simple person. You’ll soon see why. I picked up my cellphone and dialed out my best friends number.

I turned down Meridian Avenue.

No answer.

That freaked me out a little bit because Emma usually picks up the phone when I call her.

I turn down Jacobo Road, heading to her house, and I see this brown haired girl and three guys walking. Something seemed wrong. Then one pushed her down. I banked hard right and stopped close by. Stepping out of the car, I hear, “What do you want fucker?”

Great, I’m 19, and I’ve been on my own for 5 minutes and I’m already meeting hostility.

“This,” I say, slamming my fist into his face at the same time. He was out. The two friends drew knives, and advanced towards me. What a surprise

One stabbed at me, but I reversed his arm and stabbed him with his own knife. I twisted and threw him to the ground, bleeding all over himself. Friend number two was smarter, he ran off.

I held my hand out to the girl to help her stand up. She was dressed in a green long sleeve shirt, and had a big bust, and her jeans fit perfectly to her body. She was also very slim, but not freakishly thin. She was the kind of girl you bring home to your parents.

She was also Emma.

“Mark! Thank god you’re here!”

She planted her lips directly on mine and pulled me into an embrace. We held for a few seconds before she released me.

“Sorry,” she said looking at the ground, “but thanks for saving me from them.”

“Don’t feel sorry, just be glad I was here for you, and that I always will be.”

She smiled, which made me smile.