Sunday, January 20, 2013

That moment when

There's a moment when you realize that everyone you every looked up to was never as perfect as you thought. I get that crashing feeling when I see my father stagger in drunk, when he tells me with slurred speech to not tell Mom. "Yeah, sure, Dad."
"That's a good boy, Kieran." He stumbles into their bedroom. He doesn't say that this will be the last time because it won't. To clear my mind, I head out to the lower section. Gently knocking on Trevor's door, happiness burst open in my stomach. Trevor flings a vase at me, and without much thought I duck and keep walking into the house. He does that when he's in a bad mood. It's aright. Before he can fling something more deadly at me, I grab both of his wrists and hold them above his head. Using the full weight of my body, I pin him to the wall, attacking his neck with rough kisses. He hisses before switching our positions. "You're doing it wrong." He mutters against my skin. I know he'll leave deep red marks.
"Trevor, this isn't what I'm here for." A smile creeps onto his face as he stands back up. The look in his eyes says he doesn't believe me. It's just one of those days.
"Everyone who comes through that door comes through it for sex. Maybe not the first, second, third, or fourth time but eventually. Even Damian." Anger explodes inside of me.
"I'm different. I don't want to buy your body." Gently resting my forehead on his, I whisper, "I want you to happily hand it over to me."

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Denying oneself of Love

The way Kieran looks at Trevor makes me want to vomit. He's nothing but someone's sex slave, a whore. Kieran is so much more. He's expensive, upper class. Kieran acts as though he would fight through hell itself to get to Trevor. Kieran and Trevor are complete opposites, but the love neither of them will admit to makes me so sick to my stomach. So I beg Daddy to try and break Trevor harder. Nothing seems to matter. Trevor has that fighting spark in his eye, as though he doesn't know his place. The way Kieran just laughed at something stupid Trevor just said makes the very pit of my stomach burn.
Kieran smiles at me and mouths "Love...crazy isn't it?" just as Kit slides into my vision. My heart jumps into my throat, racing like a rabbit's. Kit and I have had sex a few times, not that I would admit that to anyone. Someone of my class should be pure of those polluting lower class brats and virgins when we wed. However, something about the way that Kit moves his body, even just on a day to day basis, draws me to him in a way that I cannot imagine possible. Even if I think it's impossible, it happens. I find myself walking towards him even though he doesn't seem to have seen me yet. I make my presence known by him, and it doesn't matter if anyone else notices me. I chatter about nothing and Kit actually pays attention. I tell him about how Daddy is opening up a new club. He winces a little, knowing it's people of his status who will be strippers there against there will, but he still says, "Maybe you can get me into the VIP section for free," with a little laugh. Kit and I quit talking, and the moment I've dreaded for as long as I've known Kit happens. We simply stare into each others eyes, just feeling. It only lasts for a second, but it feels like forever. I continue babbling.


Notes:
Hey. These Characters have danced around in my mind for a little bit. About a couple of weeks. I've kinda been writing from all of their view points, finding out who I like, how they all think. Kieran usually goes by his middle name Ashton because he feels as though it's more of a "commoner name" than Kieran. The setting I've mentally set for this is like in the future and some war has completely changed how America runs itself. Like slavery is still technically illegal, but there are so many loopholes now that the law basically doesn't exist. There's also basically a hierarchy. There's the upper class which has an obscene amount of power and/or money. A lot is expected of the children. They have to physically look a certain way, and mental problems are ignored Then there's the middle class and they're ok. Like, they're not living in the streets, starving dirt poor, but some of them struggle to get by and fit what society wants of them. Then the lower class. They are treated like slaves by the upper class. Uhm....failed scientific experiments are just released or disposed of in the lower class section. Many of them are in "contracts" with someone who is upper which basically means they sell their body to whoever the upper says for however much the upper says.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Childhood

Pacing the room, as so many nights he does, he thinks about his childhood. The way he wanted to grow up quickly seems almost insane now. Why didn't he just enjoy having almost everything handed to him? Why didn't he just enjoy having five minutes of homework when the most stressful thing on his mind was that he wasn't playing his Gameboy Color? Now he had five hours of homework left, it was two in the morning, and all he could think was "one foot in front of the other and the pounds will wriggle off". Why did it come so quick? Why couldn't the pains disappear? Why couldn't he just be a child again?
Watching the snow fall in class all he thought about was the way he cared about everyone else when he was younger. Now, all he had to worry about was his grades and covering his cuts. Now, he only thought about how he wanted to hold the world in his hands. Pure white flakes land on the window sill. Soon, when the bell rang, the snow would be tainted also.



Note:
I'm avoiding homework. Also, I'm starting to realize how much I miss my childhood. Dunno why it's written in the "he" form. Maybe cause it's shorter than "she" so I can spend more time on the rest of the story?

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Another Break from Studying

Lawrence closes his eyes. They burned from just how wrong the texts were. "Living through these things sucks!" Tossing the book against a wall helps get rid of some of the stress. Nicholas laughs and gently places yet another cup of coffee on the blond's desk.
"Yes, well, I'm sure if you lived nearly as long as I have, you'd think that the scientists are highly stupid for still not knowing how the dinosaurs went extinct."
"We should take a break. Or I'm going to scream." Nicholas smiles, remembering how the last time Lawrence screamed over homework, the neighbors called the police about a murder.
"Shall we go hunting? I found another one." This catches all of Lawrence's attention, something that none of his teachers had been able to do for a long.
"Are you sure it's one of them?" Nicholas pinches the very tip of Lawrence's nose.
"Of course I'm sure, child. Her name's Harper, not that you really care. They're just prey to you, aren't they?"
"They're not prey! They're the child of the monsters who destroyed me!" Throwing the scalding hot coffee at Nicholas doesn't send any pleasure through Lawrence. Nicholas just doesn't react enough to the sting of the coffee for it to be fun.
Nicholas shakes his head a little. It was their choice to try to kill him, but his body was almost perfectly intact, and it was his choice to make any sort of deal. Still, pointing these out to Lawrence would only further enrage him. Gently, with a mouth full of the cooling coffee, Nicholas presses his lips to Lawrence's. He stands there, shocked and confused, for a moment. That moment is long enough for Nicholas to transfer the bitter liquid to Lawrence's mouth. Slowly, he relaxes into Nicholas, eyes glazing.
"Let's destroy her later, Lawrence. I'm rather in need of some form of energy." Wounds that Lawrence couldn't see needed healing. Burns, now, could be added to the list of things that needed fix. Slowly, Lawrence falls asleep, and Nicholas carries him up to their room. Silently, Nicholas prays that tomorrow will be better, the stress less, the anger burn not nearly as strong. Then, he pulls out the small sowing kit that Lawrence bought a few years back when one of the people nailed him in the arm with a knife. Careful, he threads the needle, wriggles out of his shirt, and then, positioned in front of a mirror, begins to close up the wound. The pain barely registers in his mind. Small puddles of blood come out where he slides the needle into his flesh. Loudly, he curses as the flesh tears from being pulled too tight.
"If it wouldn't raise fucking questions I'd just change into something completely different!" Slamming a fist onto the sink causes it to crack. Closing his eyes, he forces himself to shove the huge amount of anger and exhaustion down. The small town and pretending to be in a relationship with Lawrence was taking a toll on his ability to feed off lust. After finally getting the wound closed, he slides down the wall, resting his head on his knees. Why did Lawrence have to fuck him over so badly?


Note:
...I get really tired of writing about documents. This is just to keep myself sane. Alright! Back to the homework. *goes to search the internet for anything relevant to this document*

Break from Studying

Lawrence stares at Nicholas, as though begging him to not share some horrible secret. "Is there anything you're hiding?" Asking again makes Chloe even more mad. She's not used to nobodies not answering her questions on the spot.
"Never, Miss Chloe, would I hide anything from you. Lawrence and I have a wonderful relationship." Nicholas smiles, easily lying to her face. Mentally, Lawrence lets out a sigh of relief. If Chloe really knew he would be branded as such a freak and have to move...again. His friend, Andrew, would have to have all memories of Lawrence removed and replaced with someone who wasn't anything like Lawrence. The thought alone almost made him nauseous.
"You lie all the time, Nicholas. I don't believe that you guys are even dating."
"Dear GOD, you're annoying." Andrew's heavy boots slam against the ground as he walks towards them. "Of course they're dating. I've never seen anyone more loving than they are. Leave 'em alone, Chloe. Just cause you want in Lawrencey's pants doesn't mean they're not dating." She blushes, tries to defend herself, gives up, and runs off.
"Thank you, Andrew. It's so annoying to have people like her constantly asking if we're together."
"I know you guys aren't really together, Lawrence. I don't get why you're pretending, but if that's what you want, then I'm going to protect that." That's one of the many reasons why Lawrence loves hanging out with Andrew. He doesn't ask too many questions.
"Thank you very much, Andrew. Would you like to come over for supper?" Nicholas flashes a smile that would have most women begging for his children.
"Naw, it's my mom's birthday. She gets really upset if I tell her I can't eat supper with her on her birthday."

Note:
So, these character (except Andrew) are characters I was actually planning on using. Andrew came out of nowhere. Literally. I don't know where I got him, but I know where I can fit him. *starts revising* Oh, wait, I'm not done talking about this. So, I'm actually trying to write a story (not gonna call it a novel and then never finish it and be all disappointed with myself). Right now, it's interesting me. I don't really know where it's going to go. Basically, Lawrence has been around since the 1200's (the story's set in modern times). He's...kinda like a vampire (I don't wanna say too much!), but Nicholas (who Lawrence named) is basically there to make sure he doesn't completely mess up everything. Lawrence cusses...a lot. Which I always feel weird about writing because I don't really cuss. Nicholas is really polite to most people, but once he realizes that they're going to be around him a lot and are starting to realize who he kinda is, he drops the act and becomes either observant or sarcastic. Lawrence is generally nice (...I don't believe that. That's how I have it in the little bio that I did before writing anything, but he's become kind of a jerk), but he's got this whole revenge thing going on...so he kills people. Only certain people. And he does it in a very sadistic kind of way. When I get tired of actually writing this story, you guys will get to read the weirdness that comes to me when I write. The kind of stuff that I want to put in the story, but doesn't really fit. Kind of like author written fanfiction! Wooo!!!

Friday, April 6, 2012

Running home

When he walked onto the top of the hill, she caught her first glimpse of him for the first time in months. Still, she just stared blankly at him. Part of her mind couldn't register that it was him that there, the other part didn't want to. Her frail body flies out of the swing, her foot running across the ground.
"You're not supposed to be here!" It was her world. She couldn't have ever imagined him in the small town. "You're supposed to be at school, doing homework or getting completely fucking wasted!" Still, he was there and her screams were ringing out through the silence. Concern is spread all over his face as he examines her tiny frame. The dress that she was wearing fell until it hit her hip bones. Then it came out a lot before falling down to just above her knees. Her thin, almost white, purple streaked hair fell just below her collar bone, which stood out between the thin straps of her dress, even though it was teased. Still, what stole his attention was the look in her eyes and the bright red, still bleeding cuts on her arms.
"Why did you call me? Why me? Why not your girlfriend!?" His own screams are full of concern and vocalize the tears in his eyes. The anger leaves her, making her look even smaller.
"I thought...maybe I could die to that voice. Have my last memory be the calmest thing in the world." No more words could be said as he picked up her tiny body. Resting against his warm body, she realized how much she'd actually missed the warmth that a normal human gives off. When he set her in the car, he turned the heat way up, and didn't complain even though he began sweating half a mile away. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on the seat.
"I'm going to die, you know."
"No you're not!"
"Have you been drinking?"
"No."
"Then you're not driving fast enough." Her eyes open only part way, a faint smile on her face. He doesn't take his eyes off the road, but pulls his phone out of his pocket, called the hospital and told them that he was bringing in a suicide attempt. "I'm not gonna die," she laughed as she said it. "I've survived long about four hours now." He still won't slow down until he threw the car into park and carried her tiny body into the ER.



Noteeesss:
Sorry for the constant change in verb-tense. I wanted it to be past tense and it kept changing because I'm more used to present. This little thing came from thinking about one of my girlfriend's friends and how I could not imagine him in the little town I call home. And then I remembered the scene from Skins where Cassie attempted suicide.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Dancing with Darkness

She doesn't know how to dance. There's been no professional training. Still, in the wide open living room, she twirls, twists, and simply moves. When she's done, she bows to the audience that she can't see, but feels like is there. Whether it be monster or angel, she really doesn't know or care. It doesn't clap or even move. So she raises out of her bow, smiles proudly, and continues into the next step that she sees in her mind. All the while, she knows that she's not as beautiful as she sees in her mind, but the movement, flow, tensing and untensing of muscles, makes her feel gorgeous.
Although she can't see it, they sit, one across the room from the other. One stares at her as though he's seen it all before, yet finds the child's attempts amusing. The other grins at the fun that she's having and almost wants to rise from his seat and join in.
Finally, sweaty and tired, she slips into her room, changes out of the sweaty clothes and into something comfortable, and just goes to bed. When he's sure that she's sleeping, the one who enjoyed her fun curls up next to her, still smiling, happy that she allowed herself a moment of healthy release.

Note: I read one of my other posts on here (this onee) which gave me a small, itty bitty plot bunny who grew into this. I had fun writing this, honestly.