That night we Died
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"Someone pushed. Someone shot. Someone fell. Someone died. Then you were gone. And that's the end of it" This story follows a young woman as she soldiers through life with a broken leg, a fractured memory and an unclear future.
-with some chapter titles credit is given to Emily Dickinson poems-
The chapters are usually gonna be very short (done scene by scene) but end goal is a very long story. I have a general idea of where I want to take this, but we'll see how it goes. This is my second novel, but the first one I started when I was twelve and it sucked (Ablizorm, I took it down) Please give this a chance guys.
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BORDERLINE (18+)
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OBSESSION. too personal
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When Summer Fades
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Blood in the Margins: a collection of different poems, unfinished potential
FINISHED AND COMPLEATED. Just poems, I suppose. Or maybe a scrapbook of scars. A chaotic collage of half-born stories, abandoned plots, and feelings too loud to ignore. This isn't a novel. It's a graveyard of unwritten books- stitched together with ink and impulse. A little trauma here, a little heartbreak there. Addiction. Bad parents. Dangerous love. The usual mess. I never claimed to be a poet, but pain has a way of teaching rhythm. And when the stories in my head refused to become chapters, they became verses instead. My father? A ghost in flesh. A man who cradled needles more tenderly than he ever held me. He is an addict. A lover of oblivion. And I, the daughter left behind in the smoke of his escape. Does that make me a girl with "daddy issues"? Or just a girl still learning how not to bleed from wounds she didn't choose? This book is for the overthinkers, the almost-authors, the ones who feel too much and write too little- until the words finally spill out like blood on the page. Welcome to the ride. There's no exit. But there's poetry in the wreckage. Author's Note I didn't set out to write a book. I set out to survive my own mind. This is what happens when you have too many stories, too many ghosts, and not enough discipline to finish a single novel. So instead, I wrote poems- or something like them. Fragments. Feelings. Flashbacks. A scrapbook of the soul. Some of these pieces are fiction. Some are memory. Some are just what happens when you stare at the ceiling too long and let your thoughts rot into poetry. If you've ever had a thousand ideas and no idea where to start- if you've ever felt too broken to write but too full not to- this is for you. Thanks for riding with me. There's no map. No neat ending. Just the wreckage, and the words we make from it.Lengkap
One Thousand Tears
I've tried to release this pain in so many different ways; But writing about you seems to be one of my faves. I don't understand how I find closure When I know it only lasts until the poem is over. Somehow it feels like some sort of imaginary relief to my reality. As if, the pain I feel only exists until the words are free. I know how crazy it may seem Because the heartbreak will always be there; And I will never un-feel what you've done to me.Lengkap![zombie apocalypse | the fallen (book One) [REWRITING]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/131240949-256-k153630.jpg)
zombie apocalypse | the fallen (book One) [REWRITING]
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄
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who we are (18+)
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Picking Up The Pieces
Hey guys! This book has been officially published on Amazon. It's available as an ebook or a paperback. The version available on Amazon has been edited and I even changed some of the plot. I'd love it if you went to check it out and maybe even bought it. (https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B0BF333KWH/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?ie=UTF8&qid=&sr=) Love, Sophia *** "I-" I try to say something, anything, but the words get stuck in my throat when Jonas suddenly grabs the collar of my shirt and pulls me awfully close to his face. "Shut it!" Chills shoot down my spine as if someone just dumped a bucket of ice water down the back of my shirt. What is he doing? I know he can get angry sometimes, but he wouldn't dare to lay a hand on me in public, would he? I wait and wait for him to do something, but he does nothing because we get interrupted by a loud voice that sounds through the quiet of the night. "Hey!" I dare to open my eyes a little to see where it's coming from. A tall blond guy, carrying grocery bags is standing a couple yards away. "Yes, I'm talking to you! Step away from the girl right now!" *** The story of two broken souls- Madeleine Evans, a college student in an abusive relationship, and Elias Sanders, a soldier suffering from PTSD- trying to pick up their own and each other's pieces. Warning: Mature content! (Violence, strong language, sexual assault, substance abuse...)Lengkap
I Fell in Love with a Bad Boy
CRINGE WARNING! First book I ever wrote on here!! -- "Sometimes the person who you are willing to take a bullet for is the person behind the gun." I stood peering over the cold lifeless body that lay before my eyes. I had always thought of death the enemy, but right now, I blessed it upon the person who is now at peace. Sometimes you don't need to be the smartest, or the fastest, but you do need to be wisest. They say the blood runs deeper than water, and I believe it, because even though the people that we love can turn on us and begin to hate us, they are only human, meaning that soon they will begin to see how short life really is and how it is not to be wasted. People who seem perfect and they look like they have no floors'; they are the people who are suffering, like I was. But I found my savior in the most uncommon place. He was able to look through my mask, he saw the cracks, and tried to fix the broken girl that hid away deep inside the girl who only wanted to be seen as 'fine'. I slowly began to find comfort and safety in him, and I did the same to him. We were two broken people becoming whole. Someone once said when you pass, if you can count your true friends on one hand you are beyond lucky, and I even though I did not like the person that lay before me, I know that he once had true friends, including me. I'm a 17 year old girl who has suffered more than any other, beginning to believe that 'Hope' was just another word the people throw around. Until I fell in love with a badboy. Trailer to the side -------------------> Made By @Laura__1 Cover made by @Beautiful_Tragedy8 Copyright 2014Lengkap
ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴀʟʟ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ? 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 is officially at rock bottom. Her moods are unpredictable, her impulses reckless and healing feels like a mountain too steep to climb. She's forced to leave her wild and carefree university student life behind. June struggles to come to terms with her diagnosis. Finding herself living with estranged mother in a quiet and unfamiliar seaside town, where the silence makes everything louder. 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞 knows what it means to lose someone slowly, and then all at once. Grief sharpened him into something rough. His tattoos are his armour, humour and charm his defences. He learned the hard way that loving someone sick can destroy you. Together they are a wildfire. Intoxicating and comforting, finding refuge in each other. As their lives collide, the line between love and self destruction blurs. Healing and falling into old pattens are balancing a tight rope. And some wounds refuse to heal quietly. "By the time you are reading this, I'm gone." 𝐴𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑖 𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑? A story about loving someone at their worst, and what that might cost. - Slowburn angst - Smut warning (and kink) (𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞). 🏅1 in Moving Forward 🏅5 in Love & Loss
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