"My name is Jace Overton, and I have schizophrenia." Mr. Stevenson stood from his desk, his eyes widening and surprise slapping him in the face as if he'd just discovered vibranium. "Wow, so you're a schizophrenic?" My mom told me there were three kinds of people in the world: people that didn't care, people that cared enough, and people that cared too much. He was definitely the third type of person. "No, I have schizophrenia. I am not a schizophrenic." "Is there a difference?" I stared at him blankly, "I wouldn't have corrected you if there wasn't." ----- Jace is weird. Jace has a blunted affect, a knack for memorizing, and a strong attraction to a Pakistani girl named Elizabeth. He also has a distant father, an overbearing psychiatrist and two best friends that get him into situations (some of which end with his nose [and heart] being broken). He has a sister that's ten years his senior, daily medication, serious hatred for the color white and a mere four years to accomplish the following things: 1) Make his parents fall in love with each other again. 2) Make Elizabeth fall in love with him. 3) Get people to understand that he has schizophrenia, he is not a schizophrenic. The former is attached to an identity while the latter is a label. A CampNaNoWriMo Novel

it's a place where smoke hovers and sorrows bleed. a place where one can go to dwell amongst the lost.

when all you have left of someone is a breadcrumb trail as to why they ended their life, there's not much you can do not to follow it. seven letters seven reasons why.

"Go ahead," I said, backing up against the pink wall of the shop. "Do something other than glare at me." I waited. One, two, three seconds... and nothing. I raised my chin at him. "You're boring me, mute boy." He stepped closer. Leaned toward me as his gaze burned into mine. Then... ❀ ❀ ❀ After three months in juvenile detention, it's time for Romy Pereira to help out with her family's flower shop. And it's not all bad... until they hire Jack Michel to work beside her. He doesn't speak, communicating with glares and scowls instead of words, and seems to be more interested in literal rocks than other human beings. And with an ex-convict mother, her friends drifting away, and the flower shop falling apart, the last thing Romy wants to deal with is Jack's attitude. She'll forever praise the day he screws up big time and gets himself fired, but until that day comes, it's mostly one cold-hearted girl, her silent (but still infuriating) coworker, and a whole lot flowers. [word count: 100k] [originally written in 2014-2015; re-write completed 2020-2021] ❀ Rankings ❀ #1 in #badgirl #1 in #goodboy #1 in #flowershop #1 in #sociopath

"what did you do while i was away?" he asked. and she never answered, until now.

»He needed her affection of love and she needed his heartbeats to fall asleep«

When one puts love into something, it means a whole fucking lot. [complete]

Once upon a time, we shared our wicked blisses. But in the end, they were nothing but cocaine kisses. Highest ranking: #42 in poetry

metanoia (noun): the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self or way of life.