Nothing But Honesty - Aileen 🌸💙⚡ - Wattpad

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Nothing But Honesty

přečtení 16
Hlasy 0
Části 11
Čas 26m

přečtení 16
Hlasy 0
Části 11
Čas 26m

Pro dospělé

This isn't a story about anything hell, it's not even a story. It's the bitter truth that comes out my mouth, the thoughts being processed in my mind, and the things I see on a daily basis. It's kind of like a diary but different in a way. Inside are a set of instructions, if you do not wish or care to read them then prepare yourself for the things I have to say. I may not be the best at writing but what I type down is nothing but pure honesty. This is a way that can help myself and the things that go through my mind and if you know the feeling I have, please speak up. Don't bottle it in because it isn't healthy. Feel free to message me if you need too ♡Všechna práva vyhrazena

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Immortal (boy x boy) od Love2LoveYaoi

My life has always been terrible. I was always bullied at school. I don't know why, it just seemed that people didn't like my presence. The guys would beat me up and I'd get in trouble when I defended myself, for the teachers never saw what they did. The girls would trick me, making me think they liked me and laughing at me because of it. I was always in the principle's office for one reason or another, but I wasn't a bad student. I actually got really good grades. To make matters worse, my mother wanted nothing to do with me. She'd lock me in the basement, sometimes for days, with no food or warmth. My father would then sneak down and beat me before raping me. So, naturally, I wanted to die. But, for some reason, I can't die. No matter what I do, I can't stay dead. The thing I want more than anything is far out of my reach. Why can't I just die? Warning: mention of rape, suicide, and abuse. Also, this is a boy's love story.

Echo of the Past od KiyuMiyuu

A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.

Living for me od Batman_diane

I don't know any other proper way to express my feelings, and I think this is the best and healthiest way to do it. So here is a diary, an autobiography however you would like to interpret it. It's about me and my life. It's the way I deal with living.

Unique od KingVanity18

I am lying down in the class room bleeding; but no one pays attention to me. I gasp for air and try to speak so someone can look down to me. Nothing comes out I try to move but no one pays attention they just stare straight ahead paying attention to the lecture at hand. I start to cry out loud and cry out help but no one cares….no one cares.

My Demon Mate (BoyxBoy) od xXBrokenRecordXx

I knew I was a freak, I'm weird not stupid - even if I did act like it half the time. It wasn’t normal to be like me, to be afraid of things everyone loves, needs to survive even. I had always been afraid of it for some reason, among other things of course; I would rather die than have to face my fear. Everyone knew it but no one cared though did they? I was just another stupid kid in this stupid foster home. Another stupid kid that had been ‘dumped’ and no one wanted. At least, that's what I thought.

Just Okay od kittenite_

We've all been through ups and downs in life and not all of us can speak our minds. I'm not the kind of person that can just talk to anyone about my thoughts and problems. No I can't talk to anyone because no one knows what's going on in my life. I've tried talking to people but it just seems impossible for them to understand. My life isn't completely shit, but it's close. It's not the people in my life, it's not the things they do, it's just me and my mind.

Diary of an anorexic od iChaeryun

I use this as my diary. I write down all my thoughts and I hope it'll help me.

My Hater, My Lover (Book One) od mignoncobra

I'm slammed hard into a locker. I lose all ability to fight back. I've been down this road too many times to count. I close my eyes, wishing myself anywhere else but here. I expect the typical hit to the stomach, but instead I get the warm pressure of lips against mine. My eyes shoot open. I try to pull away but his hold on me is too strong. I cry out but I can't help hate myself by how good it feels. His kiss is tender and sweet. His tongue pushes into my mouth and my wrists are held above my head. When did my hater become my lover? Book two of the story can be found in my works, "Speed Demon Billionaire"!

Trapped in my Worst Novel od Soraya_336

Protagonists, the most important characters in stories. They're the ones that are supposed to save the world and be a symbol of hope for humanity, the ones that can defeat anything in their way if they want to, the ones whom the reader wants to win and succeed... ...Well atleast thats how a good heroic protagonist should be. I wrote three novels after dropping out of college at 20 years old. My first novel was a disaster, boring characters, recycled plot, and a protagonist so rude even I wanted to punch them. The next two? Absolutely amazing and really well-liked. I was ready to quit writing for good when i suddenly got hit by a car and woke up in someone else's body, someone i don't recognize at all, who goes to the exact same school from my first novel. Yeah. That happened, i'm screwed. Great. Now I'm stuck in a world full of arrogant, clueless students. Why couldn't i have entered one of my better stories?! And if that's not enough, the soul of this body won't stop yelling at me to "give their body back", as if i could do that, while a tiny version of them sits on my left shoulder and a tiny version of my 19 year old self from my past life rides the right shoulder. What even is happening anymore? Sigh...

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Slide 1 of 9

Immortal (boy x boy) cover

Echo of the Past cover

Living for me cover

My Demon Mate (BoyxBoy) cover

Just Okay cover

Diary of an anorexic cover

My Hater, My Lover (Book One) cover

Trapped in my Worst Novel cover

Immortal (boy x boy)

My life has always been terrible. I was always bullied at school. I don't know why, it just seemed that people didn't like my presence. The guys would beat me up and I'd get in trouble when I defended myself, for the teachers never saw what they did. The girls would trick me, making me think they liked me and laughing at me because of it. I was always in the principle's office for one reason or another, but I wasn't a bad student. I actually got really good grades. To make matters worse, my mother wanted nothing to do with me. She'd lock me in the basement, sometimes for days, with no food or warmth. My father would then sneak down and beat me before raping me. So, naturally, I wanted to die. But, for some reason, I can't die. No matter what I do, I can't stay dead. The thing I want more than anything is far out of my reach. Why can't I just die? Warning: mention of rape, suicide, and abuse. Also, this is a boy's love story.

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