- Leituras 11
- Votos 2
- Capítulos 1
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Echo of the Past
A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.Concluída
Mind Games ♟
They say envy's the best form of flattery. But in my world that is the greatest dreadful feeling ever. You wanna know why? Well because it drives you mad; it makes say and do crazy things. Crazy things like hurting yourself, blaming yourself for mistakes others made. But it's so satisfying to the ones that think they've won. No one really wins. But for the ones who aren't being admired, we pretend to be them, and we love it. And it's when we die that's when we matter, we're no longer tortured by the obsession.Concluída
A Memory Away
[HR: #2 in Young Adult 28/3/19] ❛❛One look and I fell in love again.❜❜ ❈ ❈ ❈ "Aren't you going to say anything?" I turned around to face him. "Thanks for saving my ass." I swallowed my pride. He shook his head. "No, not that." I looked at him funny. "Then, what do you want me to say?" As if he got offended, he started blinking, trying to find something to say. "I-I don't know! Maybe about where you've been!" I frowned, not really understanding what he's saying. And for a second, I thought he was crazy. "Why are you acting like you don't know me?" ❈ ❈ ❈ After waking up from a year and a half coma, Mia had no choice but to trust her personal nurse to recover. And the fact that she doesn't remember anything about her life, didn't make it any easier... However, just when she finally recovered, her nurse convinced her to go to a private academy to build a new life in a better environment. But little did she know, she discovered that it was way more than just a regular school. Find out what happens to Mia as she discovers the dark place she's got into and the reason behind it. Or should I say, the person behind it? Find out what happens when she starts remembering things, leading to a tragic comeback from people she always wanted to forget. Because forever and always, Sebastian will be her reminder. ❈ ❈ ❈ I love you, was the last thing you said, But I didn't believe that you were dead... ❈ ❈ ❈ Previously known as 'Remember Me'. {REWRITING}Concluída![See more... [Boyxboy]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/256765174-256-k471065.jpg)
See more... [Boyxboy]
I wanted more of what has already been experienced. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to hear more about him. I wanted to see more of him.Concluída
insecurities...
[BxB].I have scars, it's not a question, it's a statement, scars inside and out. I have never loved anyone, as much as I love him, but I can't commit to anything, I won't commit to anyone. I can't seem to get out of my own head, I want him so fucking badly, but I won't be broken by love. I have commitment issues, I have anger issues, I have so many issues, and he's just one of many insecurities.Concluída
Unconsciously Mine
Love is a death of a Life and the beginning of another. All the years of apposing the idea of letting someone in and giving all of her, will it be possible to let a mysterious guy to come all along and sway away all her insecurities. The more she turns his pages, the more mystery he is. He's like an open book , easy to read but when you dig into his story the more complex he becomes and suddenly it's not him but someone she has never come across. Life will take an interesting turn and you'll ride on a rollercoaster of infinite emotions , emotions never felt before. But is all her illusion or is it happening for real .... Or it's just he's unconsciously hers ???Concluída
Dalia
She was at the pinnacle of success and one phone call ruined it all. She looked around, lost. She found shelter and solace in the wrong place. Now, she navigates her new life as bad decisions and betrayals centre themselves around her. And a new love blooms. But, how long will the play last before it all comes crashing down?Concluída![No More Running [UNDER CONSTRUCTION]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/58348871-256-k315137.jpg)
No More Running [UNDER CONSTRUCTION]
~Manipulative. Dangerous. Enticing. Sadist. Sexy. Those were just some of the ways people described him. To everyone he was like a drug. Luring. Addictive. Makes you feel good. But he could easily fuck with your mind without you even noticing. Maybe it was the way he stared at you with a look of unfulfilled promised pleasure. Perhaps it was the way he could smirk at a girl and make her go down on her knees at his mercy without him even having to ask. Whatever it was he had it.~ ***** ⚠️WARNING⚠️ : *sexual themes *language *abusive themes ------ ALSO, this book was made when I was younger so some things will not make sense and there are spelling errors but I SWEAR once you get to the second book it will be worth it!!!Concluída
A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.
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