Ashley is basically the Queen of Nerds at her stereo-type filled high school, and being abused at home doesn't really help. But what happens when the most popular boy at school sees her bruises? ______________ "Here let me help." It was Jason. He was in the girls bathroom, the girls bathroom. "That's ok." I mumbled turning away. The bruise was starting to show. "No I insist." He grabbed my arm and turned me around. I winced and looked up at him. He started to dab like I was doing, then he started to rub. He stared at my arm intently. "Is that a bruise?" He asked looking at me then the bruise and back and forth. "Yeah, I, um fell off my um...bike! Yeah my bike!" I said. He rolled his eyes and let go of my arm. "Well whatever just get that checked out." He said smiling. "Why do you care?" I asked. "Because I'm trying to be nice," Then he mumbled, "It's not like you have friends anyway." "Hey! That's not nice." I said furrowing my eyebrows. He held up his hands in a no offense motion. "I'm just saying you could use some friends." He said. -------------- Cover by @QueenCourtneyLynn

It was dark until he lit the match. I thought he was lighting the way, but little did I know he was leading me to my death. **** Luna Ludwig is one of the most average girls that you will ever meet. Tate Marks is one of the most dangerous guys that you will ever meet. They hate each other right away. They fight. They prank each other. They are just plain mean. When Luna's ex moves back into town... well let's just say all men are territorial, even over their enemy. Gangs, Lust. Betrayal, and Secrets lead to someone's untimely death.

"I tried to forget but you grew roots around my ribcage and sprouted flowers just below my collarbones all day I pluck their petals but I have not yet ascertained whether you love me or not." He's cold, he's stubborn, and he's driving Vixen West wild. Although the wise thing would be to leave while she's ahead, she's not ready to give up on the infamous Slade King just yet. She will save him, even if it means losing herself in the process.

Alexa Grey. Brandon Flemming. Sebastian O'Connor. Girl. Boxer. Fighter. --- excerpt --- A boy around my age was getting mercilessly beaten by someone with their back to me. I recoiled in horror at the sight of blood everywhere and the cracking of his ribs as punch after punch knocked through him. The boy must have noticed that I was there as he lifted his head, looking at me with a desperate plea for help. Then his attacker turned around and my eyes nervously met Sebastian's. Within milliseconds, anger overtook me and I stormed over. "Leave." Sebastian growled, barely even glancing at me as he pushed me straight into a brick wall. "Stop hitting him," I gasped, trying to get my breath back as I moved away from the wall. "Get out of here." There was nothing but stone cold harshness in Sebastian's voice as he ordered me once again to leave. "No." My breath had been regained and I was standing taller now, my confidence for some reason soaring. "I said," He spat out the words, turning away from the boy and towards me, "to get out of here." "Make me." I didn't even blink as I locked eyes with him, daring him to lay another finger on me. "Fine." Sebastian slammed me back against the wall, grabbing my bandaged wrist and twisting it. There was nothing I could do to hold back the small scream that escaped my lips as he applied more and more pressure. Yet I made no attempt to move away. "Don't touch him." I managed to say, desperately trying to keep my voice as smooth as possible. "I don't have to listen to you," He scoffed. "You don't. But you should." "Oh, and why should I?" Sebastian had visibly calmed down now, it was obvious. Even the tight grip on my wrist had loosened completely. "Because you're better than that." I replied softly, moving myself away from the wall and glancing down at the semi-conscious boy. "You over-estimate me then." With that, Sebastian dropped back and walked off without a single look behind him.

"You're just too much fun to mess with," he jokes, his smile transforming into a glowing smirk. My cheeks heat, but this time with anger. My tolerance has worn completely thin. "Would you let me go?" I ask spitefully. I feel like a broken record. He pushes off of the desk and takes a step back. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I slap him square across the cheek. Shock is plastered on his face, and I'm sure it is on mine too. I stand there in awe of what I just did. It was so sudden I'm not even sure I decided to do it but rather my indignation controlling me. Steadily, Damon's face morphs from shocked to entertained. I immediately regret my action, but I'm not completely stupid; I race for the door like there's no tomorrow. "You'll regret that!" I hear Damon yell as I'm running away. ~Sugar, spice, and everything nice~ A story about drama, sarcasm, love, and twists, with a little bad boy guilty pleasure mixed in between.

Dark was a strange man, full of mystery. No one knew much about the man himself, but they knew of heavily of his past, and knew to stay away from him. He was full of secrets that he kept only to himself. But will those secrets come out when he meets Wintry Storm? A young girl who stumbles upon him and his friends one dark night. What will Wintry do when she discovers what Dark's secret is and she's forced to take part in it. Will she make it out ok in the end?

❝It's called Lucifer's Effect, sweet Adelaide. In which those that are good and pure can be corrupted.❞ full description inside | copyright © indievibes 2016

*DISCONTINUED Vincent Knight was the mask of complete insanity marked in the deepest oceans of anguish. They contoured the word psychopath on his pale, canvas skin as if it belonged there. He had the grin of a mad man and the fists of the insane, putting people in pain and he didn't even realize. He didn't realize the pain he caused. He didn't realize his grey eyes were the ones filled with real insanity. You could see the madness in his eyes, but if you look a little closer, you can see the hurt that hides behind pills and beer bottles.

I am a sociopath. I am manipulative, emotionless, superior, cold. I lie, and I do not love. I'm not locked up in a prison cell, but rather the confines of ignorance. I am more than my medical label. I am creative, and intelligent, and beautiful. But I'm still a sociopath. How could anyone not adore me? But how can anyone love me?

And the stalking begins. (This is the rewritten version)