i feel like people are leaving me and i don't know why. → hr : 2PO © 2017 freyyyaa NOTE_2020: previously had an "alllivesmatter" tag on this book. it was added when this story was first started in 2017 to share my belief that all lives matter, regardless of gender, orientation, race, ethnicity, ability, etc. that tag was absolutely NOT associated with the alllivesmatter movement - that movement does not reflect the actual belief that all lives do matter. i have removed it now as the meaning behind the phrase 'all lives matter' is associated with a white supremacist ideology that is now being used to oppose and try to silence the Black Lives Matter movement. all lives will matter when black lives, trans lives, indigenous lives, and all other oppressed groups are included in that. i hope that one day the phrase 'all lives matter' will no longer be a weapon used to suppress and silence civil rights but as a matter of fact. #BLM

Where a girl receives messages from an anonymous passerby who wants to show her the world. © tilmorning. 2013

Don't postpone what you want. Don't leave anything misunderstood. Make sure the people you care about know; make sure they know how you really feel. Because just like that, it could end. He's reckless and indignant. She harbors an all-consuming secret. Sometimes, God gives us what we never knew we needed.

I go though a lot of stuff and I never know how to let it out so I usually write stories or poems or suicide notes, I know it sounds bad but that's why I do :/ so here are a few of my poems I hope you like them :)

A young woman who was always the life of the party, quick to tell a joke, always smiling and happy, tragically dies at age 23. What her mother found after her death reflected a much different young woman, her poetry. Her words showed a young woman crying out to feel loved, wanted, beautiful and worthy. Struggling to accept herself as the wonderful, happy, beautiful young woman everyone else saw her as. Her words reflect the pain and torment she allowed another to cause her. It is her mother's most heart felt desire to reach even one young person struggling to accept themselves. To encourage them to open up and talk to someone, to know they are never alone, to know their feelings are validated. She also hopes to reach a mother that perhaps feels her daughter is perfect and completely in charge of her life, as mothers often do. After reading her poetry, hopefully it will facilitate conversation, confirm unconditional love and help to end words that a mother never hears. I am her mother and these are her words.

The story of two best friends, Noha Ali and Maysa Malik, as they navigate through high school.

Imagine the second you're born, a consultant removes you from your mother's grasp and runs a battery of genetic and physiological tests on you. Thirty minutes later they give you a score out of one hundred which denotes your level of perfection. If your score is above eighty and you work hard to maintain that score you will have a charmed life; well fed, well-rewarded, spoiled. But fall below eighty and you're labelled Flawed, and life will not be so kind. Hannah is adopted by a Flawed family when her birth parents choose their social standing over their daughter and endures a life of struggle, hunger and service. One day Hannah is escorted to the regional government office and told that the Consultant who delivered her, who labelled her Flawed got it wrong! Now, she is being relocated back to her birth parents, to live as one of the Ninety-Five- all medically and legally judged as perfect. Entering this new life Hannah has an impossible decision to make which puts not only hers, but the lives of everyone she cares about at great risk. "The Numbered- where no one wants to be number one". Authors notes: -This is a first draft of my story and will be edited soon. -2013 Began writing Flawed -2015 Watty Winner/ Named changed to The Numbered -2016 Completed The Numbered -2019 Optioned by eOne for development into a TV show.

"Oomph!" The sound rushed out of my mouth as the door opened before I could reach the handle and my body hit a wall. I took a step back and realized that it wasn't in fact a wall, but instead a very attractive male. I looked up at his head to see a very messy, but sexy, mop of black hair on top of his head. When I looked closer, I noticed that his hair was a very deep brown that was probably often mistaken for black. My gaze traveled downward to his eyes, where I found two deep, ocean blue eyes looking back at me. My gaze travelled farther down to his crooked nose, to which I assumed came from too many fights. My eyes finally found his pink, very plump lips, which were turned into a sneer. "You have got to be kidding me!" His pink lips said in a very offensive voice. My eyes turned questioning as I looked back up into his eyes. "Whatever, lets finish this. I, Ashton Carter, reject you, as my mate." He, or Ashton, said with venom lacing his voice. He quickly turned and walked down the now vacant hallway with no glance back. Rejection? On my first day? The first person I make eye contact with at this school, rejects me. I guess that's how this school works, if the hottest boy in school rejects you, you're a nobody. So much for making friends, or mates, or whatever they call people at this school. I shake those ocean blue eyes out of my head and continue into the office to start my new life.