obtainable desires // n.h

Prologue

Hi guys!

This is my very first fanfic, so I apologise if it's crappy and..... weird. It was just literally just the spur of the moment sort of thing when I decided to write for someone else. I have enjoyed writing for a while and I write a bit of poetry and stuff from time to time, but this is the first time I've ever put my work out there.

So please have a little patience because I may or may not be a regular updater, I still haven't decided exactly what's going to happen in this story, but I have a rough idea. Please please please spread the word about this story, vote, fan, comment I don't care. Anything like that will encourage me to write more! I don't want to one of those poeple who don't end up finishing a story, I know how annoying it can be.

With all that said, Happy Reading and I hope you enjoy 'Obtainable Desires'!

- J

thanks to @liv21101 (wattpad user & twitter) for reading my prologue, helping me ideas and such.

also a big thanks to my good pals Bree & Chantal who read have read the prologue and gave me positive feedback which motivated me to post the story! 

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Prologue

I'm over it. Over everything in general to be completely honest.

Life has fucked me over, more times than should be deemed necessary. Eighteen years it took me to realise that.

I lied down on my back, with the roof tiles pressing into my skinny spine. The sky was cloudless tonight, but filled with stars.

'Stupid, twinkling little idiots.' I muttered.

I hated the fact that the quiet and subtle darkness of the midnight sky was always invaded by a bunch of twinkling little shits that I've grown to passionately hate. Never in my life did I see the so-called beauty in stars like other people did. Stars just greatly annoyed me. It's even worse when people link them with quotes and sayings and books and shit. What's that one quote that always makes me think of stupid stars every time I watch the night sky?

Oh yeah, 'Even in darkness there is always light.'

What a bunch of bullshit. If there was always light in darkness, then why the fuck have I not seen any sort of light in my hell that I call a life. There is no fucking light in my life, only darkness. And I've grown a pair and accepted that, because I'm not wasting my time on cliché crap that doesn't even exist. I made that mistake once, and I'm not doing it again.

I sat up and fished around in my pocket for a lighter and cigarette, emptying my pockets out in the process.

Wallet, keys, coins..... that piece of paper.

I sighed, stuffing everything back in my jean pocket except the lighter, smokes and the piece of paper. I put the cigarette between my teeth and flattened the piece of paper so I could read those pathetic words that I'd ripped from my mother's journal.

"If I die, please don't cry Jay. Look at the stars and say goodbye."

A small, hard chuckle left my lips. My mother always had a thing for poetry and writing. She always used to say that life was just like poetry, but in motion.

I loved her. To be honest, she's the only one I loved in this world. We had that bond, that mother-daughter bond. But before I had time to realise, she was gone. I think the hardest part of losing my mother, wasn't that I had to say goodbye, but learning to live without her. Always trying to fill the void, the emptiness that's still left inside me after she left.

My smile faded, and I stared at the piece of paper with those piercing words, words that were practically stabbing everything in me that had the power to feel. She never gave me this piece of paper, I ripped it out of her writing journal after she had passed. It was the last entry she ever wrote.

I re-read those words for what seems like the thousandth time tonight. This time though, I scoffed.

'Another reference to those fucking twinkling shits.' I thought.

After realising that connection, the paper suddenly meant nothing to me. I scrunched the paper and stuffed it back into my pocket, lighting my cigarette shortly afterwards. I took a drag, letting the toxic haze fill my lungs, before breathing it out. I lied down on my back again and closed my eyes, thinking of school the next day. Another day of utter shit in my opinion. I groaned and opened my eyes again.

This time though, my eyes met the full moon. I sat up to support myself on my elbows, still staring at the moon. I loved seeing the full moon in the sky. To me, it represented the height of power, the peak of clarity, and the obtainment of desire.

The last representation always means a lot to me,

because I long for a certain desire.

And that

was the desire to be loved.