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The question that most people have the answer to. Who am I? It was the question I intended to answer. One I know I have to. You know how, as a kid, you had great memories about riding your bike to your grandma’s house, where you would get a batch of warm cookies? Hmmm? Lucky you. I don’t have any memories. Not since I was changed into a vampire. I can’t even remember my own name. So, like any other living...no, that’s not the right word....like any other thing, I am curious. My friend, a nomad I met in my hometown, Burlington, named me Andrea Joyce Chourre, her mother’s name. It stuck with me, however, I did add my own special flare, I’m Andy, not Andrea. I push my Corvette faster, the trees and snow of Vermont only a blur. I don’t know where I am going, and I don’t know where to stop, but I will soon. Even with a Corvette, sleek, aerodynamic as it is, I still need gas. At least I know one thing, Forks, Washington is a long ways away.
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