Am I acceptable?

Am I acceptable?

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Sep 9, 2019
"Oh crap!" I heard an unfamiliar voice saying at the same time as I apologized. "Oh god... sorry!" As I watched his water bottle on the floor and my note papers taking a bath of the water that ran out of his fallen bottle, that was caused by me. As I looked up from the black boots upwards, I saw a guy. A tall guy, with a black ripped jeans and a white tshirt where his body structure was well visible under the shirt, but the black jeans jacket covering his arms. As my eyes traveled upwards to his unwelcoming blue greyish eyes. Recognizing the very known Alexander Harrington. As I watched the water dripping from his black jeans jacket, opening my mouth to say something. When I heard sound with an accent, knowingly it the sound wasn't coming from my mouth, but from his. "Ugh... Next time, watch where you're going, yeah?" he said as he brushed his brown hair away from his face with his big fingers while looking right down at my eyes. ********************************************************* This is about an immigrant girl with the name Hope Ambessa, born and raised in America. She lives with a single mother, who's not at home. Mostly working with two different jobs, so that her daughter can have a future; college. Until then, Hope goes in a high school that mostly contains rich students. This year is her last year in this high school with her friend Jessica, until one day she accidentally crashes with a guy that is mostly known as a bad and rude guy.
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!!Trigger warning: suicide, Implied/Referenced Self Harm!! Warnings before sections. . This book is currently discontinued, if I find motivation to finish it it is not in the foreseeable future. . "Trust me." His voice was soft and calming, the way that a good father could be assumed to sound. "This isn't what you want, it never has been and it never will be. Confusion is difficult to work through, but if you just let me help you, I can show you that it can be worked through." He rolled up his sleeve, showing several white streaks across his skin. The other was shocked. "N-no, I'm not good for anything, I'm nothing there's nothing for me." He shook his head many times, holding it in his hands after a bit. "No." "Can I touch you?" The boy who was trying to help this poor soul had approached a few paces. His voice was now quieter, more soft, and still caring. The boy at the bridge took a moment to think, then nodded his approval. The savior gently took the boy's hands delicately in his own and gently pulled the boy back. Well, less of a pull and more of a gentle suggestion. It worked and the boy stumbled down off of the edge. The boy started to cry. How could he be so weak that a boy, the same age as him, who seemed to have the same ideas and hatred toward himself as he, could keep him from stepping off? The other simply gently led him to his vehicle and took out a water bottle out of the backseat. The boy took it and looked at it suspiciously. "It's untampered, look, it's still sealed." Upon seeing this, the boy opened it and took a few sips of water. "Thank you. For the water." The savior smiled. "It's nothing much." He shrugged. "Have a phone? If you want I can put my number in and then you'll always be able to tell someone if you're having a pissy day." Surprisingly enough, the boy agreed. . They would both be around twenty.

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