Story cover for inside my mind by sienalandau
inside my mind
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Secret Mind ✓ by sadlyish
32 parts Complete
"She's right! She's right! I don't cut in the right spot." My hold tightens on my wrist. The red blood oozes out of my wrist. I slide up and grab my bag and run out of the bathroom. I don't care if people can see the blood I just want to get out. I race for the doors and shove through people. I earn a lot of glares and glances that read "weirdo." I ignore and push. I run to my house and lock myself in my bathroom. I don't bother closing the front door cause I don't care if people come in to kill me. I grab my razor and cut deep cuts into my arm and wrists falling into a pool of my own blood. • • • Evangeline has a great life. Friends? Check! Good grades? Check! Loving family? Check! But what if she has secrets that nobody knows of? What if the only thing she can trust is her secret diary? What if slowly but surly she's dying inside? How can an innocent twelve year old deal with these problems? Will she keep on facing these problem till the day she breaks. Her school burns down forcing her into a different school to meet different people and she has to fit into a different lifestyle as well. Meet Evangeline. Now at 17 years of age in a new high school. Not all girls anymore. No uniform. Meet Drake. Your classic bad-boy. He just moved to Saint Abigail high school. He is assigned partners with the quiet, calm, unnoticed Evangeline. As time progresses he finds that she isn't as happy on the inside as she is on the outside. Can he save her? Or is it too late? • • • Some rude language. Depression and cutting. Don't say I didn't warn you. Okay, I wrote this at the start of this year (may 2016) and I had very poor writing skills. This book hasn't been edited and the whole idea is cliche so I wouldn't recommend you read it but I'm not stopping you, either. Read at your own risk. • • • Copyright © 2017 by -moonlust. All rights reserved.
Release by FeelMyBreath
191 parts Complete Mature
This is a collection of my writing from the past 7 years. Before I started to write, I was a very lost individual, as are most teens, but I was lost in darkness. I was too afraid to move anywhere at all. I hid in the dark, debilitated by my own anxiety, sadnesses, anger, and hopelessness. I was desperate to be loved and feared it the most, I was a coward, I was self-destructive, I would mentally bend my thoughts to the point of bordering insanity. I was born into this world alone, and got too comfortable with it. Maybe I still am, but a fraction of what I used to be. This writing is extremely vulnerable, and potentially disturbing to others, as all my weaknesses, strengths, obsessions with making every moment sentimental, the sickening desperation I've had, the destructiveness, and the constant brutal reconstruction of my mind. Without guidance, it's been absolute intense chaos. Though, there is beauty in the darkness. Everything can be found in the darkness. You'll find that through my writing, I've somehow slowly become exactly what I've written. A living representation of my writing and what I wanted to be. Without myself even knowing it. A lot of my writing themes are based around nature, or some kind of natural aspect. The imagery I paint with natural metaphors is constant, the animals, just like you and I, the plants, and all other living things. I planted these seeds in my mind, unknowingly at the time, where I now feel the deep dark green jungle pressing at the inner walls of my skull. It's all that I want to consume my mind. There's so much to learn. The magic of nature, and it's infinite wisdom. It's as if I have been on this path all along, and I didn't even know what I was doing, yet my body and mind were passively taking care of me. Giving me and eventually showing exactly what I want, and wanted to become. I have every moment, every instance of suffering, and every epiphany to be thankful for. Soon, I'll be at peace from the raging storm.
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Nobody Was Meant to See

143 parts Complete Mature

[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-