We Survived The Monsters
- LECTURAS 14
- Votos 2
- Partes 3
Contenido adultoContinúa11m
Última publicación jue, may 4, 2023
This is my story. The point in which my world changed forever. I was raped at the age of fifteen and I feel it's time for the world to no my story. I never got justice so this is how I'm getting it. I want others to know you can get past that day and still make something of yourself to not take your life. If I had taken mine nobody would have known what happened to me.
Todos los derechos reservados
Únete a la comunidad narrativa más grandeObtén recomendaciones personalizadas de historias, guarda tus favoritas en tu biblioteca, y comenta y vota para hacer crecer tu comunidad.
Quizás también te guste
You're Not Imagining
Sure I don't remember his face , but why do I seem to sense him everywhere I go. At college, at parties, at home. I have to be imaging all of this, but it all feels so real. Sure I can't remember him but, every word he speaks can be heard so clearly and every touch placed on my skin can be felt for years after. Tw: -cursing -underage drinking -stalking -drug use -panic attacks -mentions of blood -murderConcluida
Behind every mean girl...there's a tragedy
The average human being spends every second of his day fighting against the force of nature to see another day. But I'm different. I'm not afraid of outside forces to take my life away - only myself. Approximately 10 years ago, something happened to me. Something really bad. But I'm not allowed to talk about it. As a way to release my frustration, I give hell to my body and everyone I come in contact with - especially my parents. No one knows about what happened except the ones who did it...and Him. But he didn't stay. Now, he's back and he's not talking either. I want to stop hurting, I need to stop. Make me stop.Concluida
Unlovable Me {BoyxBoy}
It's been so many years and my dad continues to hurt me daily. How long can I continue to live like this before it all comes to an end. It hurts and I'm tired. Sometimes I wish someone was here to swoop in and save me from my misery. Anything is better than this. . . . . . I apologize, this story was taken off wattpad for whatever reason. I tried getting help from online workers but none replied and I couldn't get it back. I'm just going to reupload. The reason why it was taken off it beyond me. Please give it some love, I broke down like crazy when it disappeared because it was my most popular story and I had worked incredibly hard on it only for it to go poof.
Twisted Reality
" Stop trying to figure me out! Stop thinking I have this past tragic tear jerking life! Can't you just get it? Can't you just get that something didn't have to go so tragically wrong and so baffling terrible for demons to arise in my head? Can't you just get that I don't have to be a puzzle to have parts of me missing?" I've always believed that everything happened for a reason. Of course sometimes it was just that we were stupid and made stupid choices. And there was also that sometimes life just decided it hadn't played enough tricks on you. But other times,it was good. I think I was like a whirlwind and he was like the ocean.Concluida
Fallen (Undergoing editing)
I never thought it would end like this. I always thought I had a home. I always thought I had a family, but as it turns out, my past is darker than the lies they told me and the truth they kept from me.Concluida
Stories Of my Life By Pete Saunders
When I was young I was treated wrong in my eye. Years on they would never get away with treating a youngster as they did me. In Prison at Fifteen years old. some great stories that stem from those days
My new form
On my 16th birthday I thought my dad was a nut case. He talked about being a witch and werewolf hybrid mix in a long line of the almost extinct crescent moon pack. My twin brother and I would never see each other after our transition. Only the stronger twin would survive. I didn't expect it to be me. I always thought I was the weaker twin. Now I'm the lone survivor of my pack. Training starts immediately. My mother was gone, my brother was dead and apparently I was a wanted witch-wolf hybrid by powerful deadly beings. My survival depended on this training. I was the sole survivor and the most strongest alpha in the world. All I had to do was find my strength and train. I needed to build my pack from scratch. Of course my brothers best friend was my omega. Could things get worse? The answer is yes. Things could get worse. Much much worse.Concluida
Trust me. I'll catch you.
I thought I could trust them to work it out. My parents, abandoned me on the side of the road when I was about 16.. They had wanted to start fresh and I was too close to there past. How am I supposed to live? To love? To trust again? I don't know... But I was going to start again..... Until HE.... Came!Concluida
#SorryNotSorry
Story about me. Kailar. Ever thought about this bitch called life? I mean really sat there and wasted time thinking about your life. I have. Shit gets grimey. People want something for nothing and when you don't have it, they get mad like you the problem. #SorryNotSorry is gonna be about that life. How I planned it, but what the fuck kept me from gettin it. Twenty four years old and seems like I don't have a damn thing to show for it. Or so it seems.Concluida
My Life Being Dead
Hello. I’m Cassidy. I’m 16 years old, and I am helpless. I’m weak, defenseless and not to mention unassuming. I am utterly boring and uninteresting. I wouldn’t be surprised if God himself overlooked me. Maybe that’s why my life sucks so much. My face is dull and pale, and my hair is mousy brown. My eyes are black and my fingers are long and stringy. Once in junior high, a teacher likened me to ghost. I had wanted to tell her, “Yes. I remind myself of a ghost sometimes too.” But I didn’t say anything in return. I have one friend and even she doesn’t like me for me; only for the shiny new car my step dad bought me. Boys don’t notice me. And when they do it’s only to pick out my flaws and display them to everyone around. All in all, I am a sad and pathetic specimen of a human being. Why am I writing this? Because on June 3rd, 2011, at 12:31 am, I died.Concluida
Sure I don't remember his face , but why do I seem to sense him everywhere I go. At college, at parties, at home. I have to be imaging all of this, but it all feels so real. Sure I can't remember him but, every word he speaks can be heard so clearly and every touch placed on my skin can be felt for years after. Tw: -cursing -underage drinking -stalking -drug use -panic attacks -mentions of blood -murder
Más detallesPautas de Contenido