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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Aug 18, 2014
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Fiction
Social Themes
sometimes at night when you lay in bed you start thinking, thinking about your day and how it went. thinking about the guy you like and your friends. well it's hard thinking that way when you are how i am. I'm sad. not like the "down about my grade not being high enough" or "down he likes her" it's a kind of sad 'special' people have. it's the sad, that controls your life. you get these enemies, but they don't exist except only in your head. no body can hear them but you. sometimes people like me want to be saved, but don't want to be saved at the same time. those voices in your head are quietly whispering "you don't want to be happy." and "you know somebody on the other side; they're holding the door open for you, go on and walk in." these voices, it's like they're what other people think of you but you don't know who thinks of you in that way, since the world has come down to fake friends and lies you don't know...except them
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*EDITORS' CHOICE 2021*After falling for her senior year teacher, Louise learns a harsh lesson on what adulthood isn't. Louise has some trauma to unpack. Heartbreak's a bitch, and her first relationship had been anything but normal. Thinking herself mature for her age, her affair with Mr. Cain started swooningly well. Except things ended quite abruptly. It's a lot for a seventeen year old to handle. But who's really at fault for what happened? Who even is Mr. Cain, and what is he hiding? From the wreckage of her naivety and self-esteem, can Louise save her friendships and rebuild herself? Our love songs aren't telling the whole truth. How can this be? In this tale of vulnerability, adolescence and painful reckoning, the arrogance of youth demands a price. * "'You're what, Louise?' he asked. 'You're sorry? What am I supposed to do here? How can I turn this around? How can I tell you that everything you want and feel is reciprocated, when I have to go back to work and pretend none of it happened?' 'I don't know the answer!' I cried. 'Neither of us do.' I threw my hands up in defeat. He caught them before they could fall. 'But how do I go back to living without your words?' His voice became a whisper. He squeezed my fingers tightly, closing his eyes and bringing them to his chest. 'I need how you make me feel, Luiza. I need it to feel alive. I won't stay away. No one's made me feel this good before. And I can't stand myself for wanting what I want. What do I do?' I was a violin bow on the verge of splintering. Every inch of me pulsed with an ache that began from the marrow of my bones. Fate had brought us here. At this crossroads of ours, there were a hundred different choices to make. A thousand different lifetimes to choose from, stemming from and decided entirely by my next choice. And in the end, I chose incorrectly. I held his face between my hands, feeling the echoing pulse of his skin. I brought his face to mine. I kissed him."

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