Criss-Cross Apple Sauce
- Reads 16
- Votes 2
- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Wed, Dec 5, 2018
"I'm not a kid!" he screams, raising his hands in frustration. "I'm almost an adult! I know my age, I know how normal kids my age act! I'm not stupid!"
The tears are obvious. He knows they are. He crosses his arms and turns away, his entire body simultaneously shaking with sobs and rocking on his heels, then his toes, then his heels again. Mom tries to touch his shoulder to comfort him, but he jolts away from her hand. He's upset. He's upset.
I don't know what to do, but he's scaring me. I can't form words anymore even though I can think them. I hate this.
I hate this. I don't want to meltdown in front of her when she has to deal with one of us already in the start of a meltdown.
----
The story of two autistic teenagers trying to make their way in the world without making it too obvious to their classmates that they are, this time featuring such traits as;
- meltdowns
- shutdowns
- echolalia
- stimming
- late diagnoses
- and much more that no neurotypical depiction of an autistic person ever covers, let alone covers well!
All Rights Reserved
#28
ofc
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At last | Editing
New town. New identity. Same crazy. I love it!!! (insert enthusiastic voice ) (cough, cough) Not!! I hate it. I hate having to to hide who I am. But to protect the civilians and my new home from being destroyed like my last ones, I have obey the leader's rule. No matter if I do disapprove. But all of that changes when I meet, more like bump into someone who's special. ... DOOR OPENS. "Naomi Satchel!" my mother yells as she comes blaring through the doors. "Yes?" I say as I still lie under the covers. My mother pulls my cover from my body and tosses it on the floor. I quickly sit up in my bed and glare at her. "Get your ass up now you have half an hour left before your first-period starts and you better not be late," she demands. "Mom, this isn't my school. This isn't my home. I don't want to go." I whine and beg my mother at the same time to let me stay home. What was I thinking? My mom has an image to uphold being this perfect mother who loves and cares about her little baby girl. We both know the truth. Until a few years ago, I never even knew she existed. She and my father both agreed to send me here because they couldn't stand the fact that I fell in love with a black boy. Although neither of them would ever admit, that's the only reason why I know of her. I don't want to attend a school where I'm going to have to forsake who I truly am just to fit into their liking. How can I explain that to my mom when she sees everything to be black and white.Complete
Wish You Were Here
"Do you know how old I am?" you whisper. "Mmm-hmm." A hand slips underneath the skirt of your dress and pulls you higher against his body. "Do you know how old I am?" "Yeah." "Does it bother you?" For a moment you stop. Does it bother you? you ask yourself. But then you feel his breath on your skin, open your eyes again just enough to look at him. He doesn't look his age. He doesn't act like it, either. And anyway, people are always telling you you're an old soul. Is it really that big a deal? You reach out to tilt his face back towards yours. Instead of answering, you just kiss him again. He laughs against your mouth, kisses back. And slowly he slides your body off the bench and guides you over to the bed. ====================== You are a writer in your early twenties, fresh out of a long term relationship and dying to shake up your sex life. Enter the actor, a handsome British thespian much older than you, often branded as the internet's boyfriend, who you meet on set of the movie adaptation of your novel. It's easy to convince each other that your completely inappropriate attraction is nothing but a fun, secret fling, no strings attached. But your out-of-this-world chemistry is threatened by the media, who swoop dangerously close to exposing the predatory age gap and tanking one (or both) of your careers.Complete
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DO YOU REMEMBER ME? (Completed)
.( only for 17+ ....mature language will be there...so read on your own risk...) This is My story so do not copy it... (\_/) ( °¢° ) .How could it be? When I look at you Faraway memories come back to life It's always like that When I look at you I see the lost memories from you Protect yourself from disappearing When things get hard, remember me I really wanted you So I hope you'll stop for a moment and look at me I can't stop, I'm afraid I can't control myself, what do I do? Look at me, remember me It happens even when I try When I'm in front of you Memories I want to forget come back to life Protect yourself from disappearing When things get hard, remember me I really wanted you So I hope you'll stop for a moment and look at me I can't stop, I'm afraid I can't control myself, what do I do? Look at me, remember me Protect yourself from disappearing When things get hard, remember me I really wanted you So I hope you'll stop for a moment and look at me I can't stop, I'm afraid I can't control myself, what do I do? Look at me, remember meComplete
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The Forgotten Child
"Actually I do. I'm working", I said with no emotion at all. They didn't deserve it. They don't get to know how I have felt through the years without them, I'm happy here. "Nope, your coming out to dinner away from this dump with your brothers and father", He said whilst looking around in discust. I rolled my eyes at him which he looked pretty shocked at. "Look Stone, Im not that 6 year old you can just boss around and fuck over anymore, I can take care of myself, Ive been doing that for my whole life so far, so why not the rest, so either order something or get the fuck out", I said to him getting faster and faster as I spoke. The boys gasped when I swore at Stone. He, on the other hand, looked furious. Matilda is 16 years old, with 5 older brother, 5 terrifying older brothers in who she hates with a passion. They left her to deal with their father wrath, to live their own lives far away. She now lives alone, in a dangerous and dirty neighbourhood, but she doesn't care, as long as she is far away from those she is suppose to call family. But when they all turn up for Christmas, hoping for happy times and warm hugs, she is instilled with fear and pure anger. Will she accept them, or will they stop trying? She couldn't care less, she was always the forgotten child. #1 - abuse #1 - brothers #2 - family #1 - siblings #1 - forgotten #1 - independent #1 - only daughter #1 - alone #1 - BrotherComplete
𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭| 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 |𝟏𝟖+
**𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳** Panic surges through me, and before I know it, I'm turning on my heel, trying to run, to escape the impending punishment. I barely make it a few steps before I feel his hand clamp down on my hair, yanking me back with terrifying force. "Going somewhere, little girl?" "P-please let g- ahh! Please! H-Hurts me!" "Afraid, are we now, baby?" His voice is a snarl now, filled with fury. "L-leave m-me," tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I'm scared of him, scared of what he'll do to my friend, scared of what he'll do to me. His grip on my hair tightens and I wince, choking back a sob. "Oh, why? Don't you like my hands on you, baby?" He mocks hurt that instantly turns back into anger. "But you were fine when that fucker touched you, ain't that right?" Then he pulls a silver knife out of his suit, twirling it lazily between his ink-covered knuckles and my blood freezes at the sight of that psychotic grin. ***** People quaked with fear at the sound of his name and me along with them. He was Demetrios 'the God' Nikolayev and he was first in command of Russian mafia. He was a true psychopath who enjoyed hurting people, and I hated him for that. The worst thing - he owned me. "Try to accept the darkness, because from now on, it will be your only light." I tried so hard, but I couldn't understand it back then. How possibly can darkness be light? ***** This is not a vanilla romance but a dark, toxic, perverted, obsessive story. The book contains mature themes such as foul language, bdsm, sexual and abusive content, kinks, blood, manipulation, etc. Please keep that in mind.
New town. New identity. Same crazy. I love it!!! (insert enthusiastic voice ) (cough, cough) Not!! I hate it. I hate having to to hide who I am. But to protect the civilians and my new home from being destroyed like my last ones, I have obey the leader's rule. No matter if I do disapprove. But all of that changes when I meet, more like bump into someone who's special. ... DOOR OPENS. "Naomi Satchel!" my mother yells as she comes blaring through the doors. "Yes?" I say as I still lie under the covers. My mother pulls my cover from my body and tosses it on the floor. I quickly sit up in my bed and glare at her. "Get your ass up now you have half an hour left before your first-period starts and you better not be late," she demands. "Mom, this isn't my school. This isn't my home. I don't want to go." I whine and beg my mother at the same time to let me stay home. What was I thinking? My mom has an image to uphold being this perfect mother who loves and cares about her little baby girl. We both know the truth. Until a few years ago, I never even knew she existed. She and my father both agreed to send me here because they couldn't stand the fact that I fell in love with a black boy. Although neither of them would ever admit, that's the only reason why I know of her. I don't want to attend a school where I'm going to have to forsake who I truly am just to fit into their liking. How can I explain that to my mom when she sees everything to be black and white.
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