It's Not All Roses
  • Reads 27
  • Votes 5
  • Parts 5
  • Time 1h 20m
  • Reads 27
  • Votes 5
  • Parts 5
  • Time 1h 20m
Ongoing, First published Dec 27, 2022
I looked over to her with wonder. I've known her for 18 years and yet, I've never looked at her like this. Her dark maroon hair flowing in the moonlight of the balcony. 

Her white dress was running with the wind. She's never looked so beautiful. I handed her the rose I had been holding this whole time. 

"Although I've seen tons of flowers, none have ever been as beautiful as you are, standing in front of me." 

They smiled, quickly covering it with their hand. 

"You really think I'm that Beautiful?" they continued. 

"So kiss me." 

___________________________________________

A lesbian tale of two girls who live their life in a small town named Graycott, but what happens when someone's mental health declines quickly and can no longer be themselves? Read and find out!

___________________________________________

Copyright: All Rights Reserved

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___________________________________________

*NOT FINISHED*
All Rights Reserved
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The Story Of Tonight

20 parts Complete

In the fall after her high school graduation, Danielle Davis has been spending her days lying alone in her shared New York City apartment. Attempting to fill the ticking time, she fills her moments painting empty canvases and ignoring her roommate as much as she possibly can without her actually noticing. But she can only go so long without seeing her, and at their once a month lunch date her roommate brings along a guest. Maren. Excerpt: She was paler than I first remember her, wearing clothes three times larger than her own frame, little effort put into her outfit compared to the first time I met her. She looked confused too for a second, and then she leaned down to pull her sandals off, making herself comfortable in someone else's home. Maren didn't seem like the kind of girl to spontaneously show up at someone's house, maybe I had misjudged her. "Beth's not here." My face remained blank while we made eye contact, she stood up, her natural height just a little taller than my own. Her gaze settled on me, her eyebrows were slightly furrowed. Head to toe, and back again her eyes flickered. She didn't answer my statement. "I didn't think you'd be here." "I live here." I deadpan, she's leaning against the door now, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "I know." *** This is my NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) project for this year! This is a raw, unfinished first draft of a story I've cooked up to keep me warm in the winter. Don't be surprised if there's incomplete sentences, memory problems, and forgotten moments. Writing a first draft is about getting the words on the paper and moving on. Editing will begin after I've finished the novel. Hmu writing buddies. ;)