My Mind

My Mind

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Nov 28, 2015
To some, I am an outspoken girl who isn't quite like anyone else. To others, I am a silent girl who just isn't like everyone else. But I really am just the same. I'm not different, I'm not special. I put my layers on a little thicker with different holes here and there, but I am the same confusing, complicated organism. I am a high school freshman. I play violin. I am on the basketball team. If a stranger asked me to tell them about myself, I very well could be the same person as many across the country. I am a variation, nothing more. Sure, I don't go to 'their' parties, but I am just a name below them on the roll sheet. Sure, I don't ask for attention in quite the same ways as 'they' do, but I am also just 14 and I am greedy with other people's eyes. I need validation from my peers every once in a while, if only in small ways. I need someone to talk to when my imagination takes logic in its gaping arms. My mind is loud about different things, but I am no smarter than them. I am similar: I need, I laugh, I get jealous, I feel inadequate. I wonder, and dream, and fall, and try to start fresh. I reinvent myself when I'm not happy with the way I see and feel my perceived world. Music means different things to me than it may to someone else. But we can both love it. 'They' are not are not all the same. Those you make generalizations about and assume are different differently are not somehow except from original thought and a unique outlook on their experiences. We are human, and as baffling as it is, we can all be wired the same and have completely different things make us tick. We all have different editing processes and editors and are all authors with inescapably different voices. My voice is going to tell my story like no one else could, and that's how I, the student, can make the world, the teacher, proud.
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Save Me

I feel his dirty hands touch me once more and move up higher to my thighs. I try to jerk them away but he locks my arms in his hand above my head as a thousand hot tears leave my eyes. No...no...please... I shut my eyes, not wanting to see this face another time. I shudder in disgust as he brings his lips to my neck and starts kissing me. Suddenly, I hear a groan of pain and I get free of his disgusting hands. I don't feel him on me but I don't dare to open my eyes. Another moan is heard again and a punch. I open my eyes and see him kneeling and bleeding. I watch at the boy who saved me and he hits him hard as more blood floods from his lips and nose. It's so dark and my tears don't allow me to see my angel. My savior moves as his fist connects with his face and my angel's hair glow under the moonlight and I stop breathing. Corbyn? The boy falls to the ground unconscious as Corbyn hits him in the jaw for the tenth time. His eyes move to my glossy ones and without any thought, he comes to me and wraps his arms around my body tightly. And just like that, I start crying harder as I bury my head in his neck and tug hard in this shirt. He doesn't say a word, he just pulls me closer to him and leaves me to surrender to this cathartic cry that overwhelms me. My brain stops working and the only word that exists is 'save'. I open my mouth and after so many weeks, the first words that slip my lips between cries and sobs are "You...you saved me" ----- Amelia is a young girl with a simple life and plans for her bright future. After her parent's death, everything she thought she knew will alter. But actually, all that is about to change when a blonde annoying boy will come into her life and break everything she believed into pieces. And who knows even save her and himself...

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