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."

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.

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?

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!!!

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.

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.

The Life, and Death, Of Donkers

Donkers, my co-pilot, looks over at me with those sparkly green eyes. There's no white to his eyes, just color with black in the middle. The blue and purple, rough hand on the control twitches slightly and we're flying toward a foreign planet with strange ways and stranger people. The people giggle when they see our ship. The air even tastes different here. It seems to have a purple-ish tint to it.
The people seem to drift away from us. All them except a group in what look like suits do. Even Donkers is acting strangely already. "Wow..." He whispers, hang on me. "Look at those cars." The cars above us zip by, faster than anything we had seen on our home planet. "I wanna try one." Tiny, pointed teeth sink their way into my ear, over and over, as he nibbles on it.
"Donkers," I say, "we have work to do." Shaking his head, he climbs into one of the blue vehicles. After a few minutes, he flicks it on. A man in a suit comes up to me, and, while watching Donkers start the car, introduces himself as Yu. Finally, Donkers is off, zipping through the air. We follow on the ground as quickly as we can. Yu tells me some interesting things about the planet, like that the air wasn't always so thick.
And then it happens.
Donkers in laughing because he's flying faster now than ever before. He's in a race with a man in a silver vehicle and is actually winning. Then CRASH the cars on the ground. Donkers is inside, screaming "Help, help me!" as the vehicle bursts into flames. Yu holds me back, shaking his head.
"You'll only get killed yourself if you try to help him." Soon, though, the screams just become those of pain, suffering. My stomach clenches and I'm bent over, actually puking. It's enough to block out the sounds of Donkers screeching. When I glance up, there's a smirk on Yu's face, as though he saw this all coming and it pleased him.

Alex's comments:
Soo, I got a book to help writing. The first prompt in there is that you're on a mission. I needed a name, so I flipped open my baby name book and used the first one I founds. Donkers.

Words Can't Express

I love you

I need to be by your side

these things I know.

I love you

More than the desert loves

the rain.

I love you

more than the beauty of

dew of grass.

I love you

more than I love

writing.

I love you

more than

words can express.

So, why can't you love

me?

Untitled.

Staring into each other's eyes

you feel awkward.

Me?

I want one thing.

I want to lean in,

peck you on the lips,

and act like it never happened.

Because it'd be meaningless

to you.

Notes:

I stared into I.M.'s eyes today. It made my heart leap.

You Need It

You know you need it when

your body shakes,

it's all your mind thinks about,

every inch of you aches for something, something...

more.

You need it and

no one can give you

it.

Well, maybe someone.

Just remember, angel,

when you think of me tonight,

I love you

so much I think I need

your love.

Alex Notes:

I spent the better part of three days with I.M. and feel like I'm craving to be around her. It hasn't even been a day.

Kiss Me

Kiss me,

for a moment of

connection.

Kiss me

just for a moment.

Kiss me

and I'm sure

you'll feel it too.

Kiss me

and I fall

harder.

So, don't.

Just don't

Kiss me.

Alex Notes:

I want I.M. to kiss me. At the same time, I don't. I guess this summed that up. =/

Just an illness

She's up all night, by his side as the sickness courses through him. Every once in a while, he'll twitch. In pain? In a dream? She's not sure which. When he's awake for even a little bit, she walks out, swearing she'll be right back, and brings him some tea. Whether he minds that it's cold now or not he doesn't sad, just allows her to read aloud the part of the book where they left off. Once he's fallen asleep again, she places the book on the side table, rises, and fills the cup up with warm tea. Then, she resumes her spot beside him. While others would find it strange that she takes care of this man who appeared in her room, she sees it as completely natural.
"Oh, so you're awake again. Let me get you some more tea." She stops when he shakes his head. It seems as though he's looking longingly at her sketchbook. "Oh! You want to draw? Alright!" Smiling, she picks up the sketch book and color pencils. As each one is sharpened, he switches what color he's using to make his creation. When all twelve are sharpened, she curls up beside him. "Can you wake me when you're done?" He nods, a smile resting very slightly on his lips.
When the gentle nudge hits her, those pale brown eyes fly open. "Yes?" Smiling, he points at the drawing...and staring her in the face is the one thing she hasn't used since high school, an Ouija Board. "You made this?" He smirks, sliding the pointer to the yes. "Have you been here the whole time?" Slowly, almost timidly, he slides it over to the S, then quicker to the I, biting his lip for a moment makes him seem like he was thinking and then it moves to the N, then C and finally E. "Since?" Finally, with the motions of a sigh, he moves it to the 1 and then the 4. "Since I was forteen?" He nods, sliding it over the YES. "I know you." Quickly he spells out AND I KNOW YOU. "You caused me nightmares...but you can't make sound. That explains a lot." Another nod and a slight roll of his eyes are the only reply she gets.
She jumps awake, glances at the corner above her bed, and then at her friend beside her. "I dreamed about it!" Screams rip through her throat, her mouth as she shakes the person beside her awake.
"You mean IT it?"
"Yeah. He was terrifying." Smiling she glances at the room around her. "A real beast of Hell."

Note from Alex:
So, this is based on the whole thought that my room is home to a demon. I don't mean to offend anyone. I actually wrote most of this in my room.
I've never had dreams like this and I rarely have nightmares. This room just makes me feel watched. Haha.
OH! And this one is complete. I wanted to make the whole "illness" thing its own story, but not with me or the thing in my room. Maybe a different cast of characters.

Rhyming with Blurt

When emotions you blurt

The only thing that can come is hurt,

even if you flirt.

Skip dessert,

head to that concert,

and party in that miniskirt.

Don't exert

emotions and act unhurt.

Notice from Alex:

I got really bored and pulled up rhymes for hurt. It lead to this little thing here.

Another bad love poem

It hurts,

the way you let me flirt,

without any real emotion

when this love has my full devotion.

I love you,

but I hate it too.

That's why I had my life

devoted to a knife.

It was easy,

and this makes me just queezy.

Note from Alex:

I rhymed. It was actually fun.

BTW, I never used a knife.

Random Story.

His breath comes out in puffs of warmth. The room has to be below freezing. What stands before him should make his blood run cold, but years of suicidal thoughts push away that instict. "May I have this seat?" It gestures to the ground in front of him. When he shrugs, it settles in. "How strange. You stare at the face of fear without once batting an eyelash."

"When you don't fear death, what can you fear?" A smile contorts the thing's face even farther.

"Life. You can fear all the joys and sorrows of life."

Alex's Notes:

I haven't written in ages, so I felt like writing something short and sweet and simple.

Part 3

"Thank you for the night." She said at the corner of her street. "But my mom really cannot see me with a guy." The steps she took seemed more like bounces.
"Wait!" I yelled, "Can we have a second date?" A grin with all her teeth showing crossed her face.
"Yeah, of course!"
"Where?"
"I know this candy shop on the corner of Washington Street and Addison Road."
"Will Saturday next week work?"
"Yes!" Running towards me, she looked like a bird that could just take off at any moment. She jumped right into my arms. Gently, timidly, she placed her lips on mine. Standing there, on the corner, at an ungodly hour, I kissed her with no regrets. She was the girl I was already planning my future with.
"Bye! See you at school." She dashed off, looking almost embarrassed that she managed to work up the nerve to kiss me. When I got home that night, my mom could tell that I had a wonderful night even if she didn't read my Facebook status that said "WONDERFUL night!!".
Monday, I sat by her at school, even though my friends begged me to sit with them. She talked with me about so many things. Those eyes of hers that I loved so much never once left my eyes. Everything she told me she was passionate about. She was passionate about painting and painted her own walls at least twice a year. Soccer was another one of her passions. Without my knowledge she was on the soccer team for our school.
"So... do you know about me any?"
"No. Well, I know you have porn under your mattress." When my jaw dropped, she continue, "Most guys our age do. That's why they're evil." She kissed me, though, as though to say sorry.

Another One

How many
Bad poems
can one love
have?

How many more
until I'm beyond
over you??

I can't get it out
of my head:
you used to love me.

I've always loved you.
Why couldn't we be?

Then I could love
myself,
and eat,
and not cut.

I think
FATE
wishes we were.

But we aren't
and won't be
because it's not fair.

Alex's note:
What is there to say anymore??

There's noo, no such thing as too young.

I make the plans, to drive to your house late at night, when my sense says that you're hurting. I'll bang on the door. If a parent answers, I'll run to your room and hold you. I'll sing to you if my voice isn't trashed from past mistakes. When you stop, I'll simply leave because the only thing I'll want to say is "I love you," and you don't love me. So what would the point be? I'll leave, wishing you still did, because I've loved you since I was five, wanted to kiss you since I was eight, and want to be yours.

Note from Alex:
Sorry that it's crummy. It was hard to write. Because I couldn't cry.

loneliness

I hate this bed,
it's too big for just me.

It's lonely
and makes me wish you were here,
to hold me.

Wince at the scars,
tell me you love me.

Only..you don't.
And that makes the room
seem larger,
emptier.

Notes from Alex:
At night, I get soo lonely. It's suffocating.