Story cover for AMOR ENTRE DOS REYNOS by AteneaMikaelson
AMOR ENTRE DOS REYNOS
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  • WpHistory
    Time 18m
  • WpView
    Reads 233
  • WpVote
    Votes 3
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 18m
Ongoing, First published Feb 23, 2018
Me llamo Terra Yasharan soy una diseñadora de moda, vivo en Madrid y comparto piso con una de mis mejores amigas ,Meltem . Tengo un mejor amigo que se dedica al mundo de youtube hace poco me di cuenta que estoy empezando a sentir cosas por el , pero tengo miedo de que el no sienta lo mismo y que por culpa de eso nuestra amistad se rompa. 
Estar enamorada de mi mejor amigo intentado aparentar que todo va normal es mas difícil de lo que pensaba por que  cuando le miro a los ojos me muero por besarle y cuando estoy cerca suyo solo quiero abrazarle .
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The Rich Emo: Ouran High School Host Club by graciegreat
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The Rich Emo: Ouran High School Host Club

21 parts Complete Mature

Loneliness. Depression. Broken. Scared. Devastated. Hopeless. Mournful. Disheartening. Bleak. Joyless. Somber. I have no one. Depression and Loneliness are the only things I feel. My family tries to make me happy, but I just put on a fake smile and cry about it in my room. They act like everything is alright, but everything is not. They KNOW I was devastated about Mom's murder. They KNOW I was heartbroken about Dad's sickness that eventually killed him. That's all I've thought about. Devastation and heartbroken. Just because of those two things. Never in my life I have been this devastating. Dayton, Hayden, Angel, or Monica know how to make me truly happy. Not even my own siblings know how to make me show a real smile. Suicide is all I can think about day to day and I've almost died because of that. DEPRESSION IS A REAL THING. NO ONE KNOWS HOW I FEEL EVERYDAY. NO ONE CAN JUDGE OTHERS ABOUT DEPRESSION OR EVEN MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT BECAUSE ITS A REAL THING. DEPRESSION HAS KILLED PEOPLE. EVERYONE IN MY LIFE JUDGES ME JUST BECAUSE I DON'T SMILE, LAUGH, HUG, OR DO ANYTHING NORMAL PEOPLE DO. I CUT MYSELF, I CRY, I YELL, I VENT, I PUSH PEOPLE OUT OF MY LIFE. Those are the things people are worried about me. "Go kill yourself and join your parents in hell." They say and I just shrug it off and find a private place to hide and cry it out. "I CAN'T DEAL WITH LIFE ANYMORE!!!!" I say and I use my sharp nails and cut myself then cry some more. A gun is buried within my arm for defense from my dad, but I use it in case I am tired of society. Then that's when I met the Host Club. They saw my sadness and made me a part of it to repay my debt for accidentally breaking a vase. I am now a Host for men to flatter them, but how can normal guys want me to be a Host when I wear lip earrings, eyeliner, chains, and have a gun in my arm? I'm the definition of Hell. Then he made me smile again, something that I thought I would never get back. Happiness.