"You do realize a journal is an extremely personal thing right?" His voice was raspy, low and threatening, making me take a step back in panic as he continued, "so my only question is why the fuck are you standing with mine?" - first book - - instagram acc: @thejournalofficial - - for extra material: arietem.wix.com/arietemx - All Rights Reserved 2013 © arietem

Was it her beauty that reeled me in? The mysterious, deep, color her eyes contained? Or her addictive smile, smell, or even her personality? It was none of these things. The reason she's too afraid and too sad to even talk is what made her even more mysterious and captivating to me. Not talking for six years as a side affect from a tragic accident is what I learned had caused it; her sister and mothers death traumatized her. And my goal is to help her break free, to help her gain the courage to live her life to the fullest. To speak to me.

“There are three types of people,” he murmurs while gazing at her. “Those who come face to face with death unintentionally, ones who don’t have any control over it, and ones that greet it with open arms blatantly, which is you, darling. And it’s a pity,” He crouches down in front of her and his filthy hands rest on her knees. “I’ll give you two options to choose from,” he says before faintly smiling. “You can either be the one to die or you can be the one to kill.”

"Before you can see the light you have to deal with the darkness"

Harry and Blair had been through everything together. They made it through their differences, and Blair finally decided to let herself fall in love with someone. Harry had finally noticed that he can actually love a girl, one night stands being all he used to know. And now they are married, a baby girl on the way. And this, is the story of their life.

Alex has been going to that same school for a long time and she had never actually noticed Harry. Harry was a foreign exchange student from England. Will Alex fall for the british lad?

17 year old Jessamine Taylor has just recently moved to California after her parents both get job promotions. She's very excited to be moving to a new state. The only thing that catches her off guard is one of Hamminton High School's bad boys, Harry Styles. Something is different about this boy, and she wants to find out.

Millions of Directioners—Niall girls think they know everything about their idol, Niall Horan. Little do they know, he doesn't handle hate like any usual celebrity. He feels lonely, he feels depressed, he feels the need to hurt himself, he feels the need to shoot him down whenever he tries to look good. It doesn't occur to him that many people go through what he goes through. It doesn't occur to him that he just might have found the one that could help him, the one that feels the same way. • National U.S. Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255 •

DISCLAIMER: This story was written in late 2012. I wrote Strings Attached as an adolescent with no idea how a healthy, adult relationship should function. This story is dark and twisted in a way that my teen mind couldn't comprehend at the time. There are more than a few scenes in this book with sensitive content. I--in no way--support rape culture and I do not condone my character's actions. However, as I said, this story was written in an ignorant state of mind. I will not remove this story from Wattpad. It is part of my past and though I am disappointed with the content, it shows how far I've come not just as an author but as a free-thinking adult. Thank you for reading. **Excerpt** "Say... it," She gasped, throwing her head back, cupping my face in her hands so that I was forced to meet her gaze. "You're mine." She held my gaze for a second more, before crushing her lips against my own, arms wrapping tight around my neck, pulling me down to her level. Arms sliding easily around her, she wrapped her legs around me as I lifted her up, lips traveling over her chest and collarbone. She moaned as my hands dug into her tender flesh, pulling on it, their violence a stark contrast to the gentle kisses teasing their way up her neck. Bright lines marked the paths that my nails had etched into her skin, marking her, beautiful red tattoos, spreading out over her entire body. Her small hands knotted in my hair, pulling harder and harder as she fought the urge to cry out...