• If i could have one and only one of my many day dreams come true, it would be to fly. This has always been one of my dreams. I don't just mean in an airplane flying, I mean proper flying like a bird, but everyone thinks I'm crazy. My nan say's 'if we were meant to fly, we'd be born to.', but to me, her opinion about flying doesn't matter, because she's scared of heights. hmm, maybe she's right...
    I huffed.
    I picked up the broom sitting next to me, and continued sweeping. My step-dad thought of me as a slave.
    My Mp3 paused for a second, changing songs.
    i heard a creak and a ring of the door. a large gust of wind blew through the shop.
    "Close the door behind you please." i called to the customer, walking to the counter.
    They grumbled and turned around.
    "thank you." i smiled.
    He walked to the counter again, ringing the bell on the desk several times.
    "How can i help you?" i stepped behind the counter.
    "Do you have a copy of 'Wuthering Heights', by Emily Brontë?" he grumbled the books name.
    A grumpy old man wanting a copy of wuthering heights? Strange, but i wasn't one to ask. "Yes, i think we might have a copy over here." I ran my finger along a bookcase, looking for it. "Ah, here we are. That'll be $20, please." i put the book on the counter.
    He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, opening it and pulling out a $20 note.
    I opened the cash register and put the money inside it.
    I pulled off the sticker that said 'old book shop' which was on the cover, putting a bookmark inside.
    The old man took the book and walked off.
    i sighed and sat down in a chair beside the counter.
    There had been a total of 20 customers since i got home.
    The door burst open, making me jump.
    A guy around my ageish took a few steps forward, and collapsed.
    I blinked and ran over to him.
    "Are you ok? Wait, stupid question. What's wrong?" I asked.
    He seemed to be unconscious.
    "I hope your not drunk." i rolled him over.
    I checked his pulse.
    He was alive.
    I put my ear to his mouth, to check he was breathing.
    His breath was warm on my air.
    He didn't smell of alcohol.
    He groaned, moving slightly.
    "Lottie." His eyes flickered.
    How did he know my name?
    He suddenly opened his eyes, blinking a few times.
    His dark red eyes were reflecting my long brunette hair, lite skin and pounamu green eyes.
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    He sprung up swiftly.