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Nicolette Finch (Muse: Lauren Jauregui)

Nicolette Finch (Muse: Lauren Jauregui)

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing5m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, May 14, 2025
WpInfo
Fiction
Horror
Gore and Murder
Gothic
Psychological
Just an experimental narrative essay I wrote for an English Language class assignment with Lauren Jauregui as my muse. Nicolette Finch doesn't know it yet, but the person she least expected would be her murderer. c; Note: I love writing, but obviously don't consider myself to be a Stephen King or anything remotely close. There are lots of errors that I'm too lazy to fix, things that could have been described better, and a lot to be done to make this a better reading experience overall, but I'm just posting this because of a little friendly peer pressure from some classmates I really enjoy being around! (Any feedback/critiques are welcomed as this isn't finished, however; I will be taking them with a grain of salt...if there is anyone reading, that is. XD)
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Willow's always been known as the good girl with the wealthy parents who could do no wrong. Little do they know that this seemingly perfect girl has some less than perfect secrets; and the fact that she's been sneaking out past curfew every night since the beginning of summer isn't the worst one. Distancing herself from the people at school has become lonely, but everything changes when a group of bad boys that she meets after curfew one night transfer to her school and begin to take an interest in her; one even more than the rest. But will they be able to protect her when events from her past re-surface and begin to get her into more trouble than she ever wanted? ********************** We were a circuit, electricity flowing through us at every connection, every light touch igniting a heat that was exhilarating but dangerous. Like we could catch fire and burn to the ground at any second. "Did you take your own advice? Did you ever forgive yourself?" I whispered, my words evaporating in the heat around us. He moved towards me, trapping me against the car door as his lips traced over my jaw, down to my neck. "This," he whispered, his thumb tracing the waistband of my jeans, making my breathing falter. "Allowing myself to feel this happiness, to feel you...this is me forgiving myself." He kissed me, calming the raging storm in me and igniting a new one. I wasn't sure which would cause more destruction, but I knew only one had pretty blue eyes and a effortless smile that could convince me it was all worth it. It probably was.

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