Under Glass
  • Reads 993
  • Votes 13
  • Parts 63
  • Time 6h 31m
  • Reads 993
  • Votes 13
  • Parts 63
  • Time 6h 31m
Complete, First published Feb 02, 2016
Mature
This is my first published novel Under Glass. It's out of print so I'm going to be releasing it here, chapter by chapter for free. As I uploaded I updated it a bit so it's unedited right now. 

Dedication 

There are days where a boy with brown eyes still floats into my mind. He had a lopsided grin and a great sense of humor. We dated in college where we danced and talked about all the things we wanted to be when we grew up. We broke up, it was dramatic like all college breakups are. He committed suicide while I was hanging out with my friends. His death changed my entire life.
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A girl who wanted nothing but to fall. A boy who knew nothing but to rise. Cheryl Faun and Tristan Tanner had their differences. Knowing each other since kindergarten, the two never really communicated properly. Or, well, Cheryl pushed Tristan away with any chance she got. A regular day to them would be a faceless girl trying to commit suicide, and a sunshine boy rescuing her before the gates of hell. In the past 12 years, nothing changed. Absolutely nothing. And when something happens, something completely outrageous and compelling, the two are pushed together closer than they've ever been before. Too close, maybe. But, this didn't change anything. It COULDN'T change anything. Right? If fate had other plans for them, could everything go TOTALLY wrong? Obviously... ~~~ "Stop.. trying to kill yourself!" He retorted. His eyes closed, and he began ranting. "I don't LIKE it when you think it's a good idea to KILL yourself. I don't LIKE seeing you in pain. I don't LIKE saving you because it breaks me every time your eyes seem to lull me to sleep!" I still couldn't say anything. His hands grabbed my face, and I felt him leaning in even more, his lips a mere centimeter away from mine. His eyes were still closed, but I felt a pain behind his breathing. Every small twitch and shiver from him sent a lightning bolt down my spine. He was holding up a wall, and wouldn't let anyone tear it down. My hands moved up a little, and I grabbed his arms. Water was streaming down my face- I couldn't tell if it were tears or the ocean- and he opened his eyes. The emerald green met my grey eyes, and I looked at him, letting him stare at the fallen tears. "If you hate it that much," I whispered, "Leave me here to die." Tristan's eyes gleamed in response, and he leaned over, saying, "As if that'll ever happen." [SEQUEL: LOADING GAME] [ DISCLAIMER: This concept was developed during my middle school years. I understand how underdeveloped the plot is. ]
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"I think I'm gay." I say, leaving out the part about my... exposing dream about him last night. I watched his expression, waiting for some sign that he was angry. I waited for him to call me a faggot, to curse me off and tell me he never wanted to see me again. Instead, I was greeted with his perfect toothy smile. "That's great man, I'm of proud you." He says, patting my arm as he stuffed another cracker in his mouth. "It takes some real balls to come out to someone." He says, his beautiful green eyes blazing into mine. I felt myself become flustered at his gaze. "Uh, Yeah, Thanks." I stumbled out, "You're not mad?" I ask. His expression turns to hurt as he crinkles his eyebrows. "Why the hell would I be mad?" He asks, hesitating on the crackers and pushing them away. "I just thought-it's just- well... you just always seem so pissed when someone mentions the word gay." I spit out words, scared for his reaction. He sighs, "That doesn't fucking mean I hate gays. Normally when I do that it's because someone's using the word 'gay' to hate on them, it just pisses me off, you know?" He asks, bringing the crackers back into his lap and biting into them. "Plus-" He adds on, "You're my best friend, if anything, you being gay is a blessing. I'll always support you." He says, glancing at me through the side of his eyes. I look away, towards the door to hide the crimson blush that I feel spread over my face. "Thanks." I all but squeak out. And that's the day I realized, I have a faint crush on my best friend. <><><><><< THIS BOOK IS BEING *MAJORLY* EDITED. THERES LOTS OF SPELLING MISTAKES AND NAME MIX UPS, SOME CHAPTERS WILL BE REWRITTEN Also, Please don't be mean to the characters, they aren't even close to perfect, but they don't deserve hate.
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The Suicide Girl [Completed]

76 parts Complete

A girl who wanted nothing but to fall. A boy who knew nothing but to rise. Cheryl Faun and Tristan Tanner had their differences. Knowing each other since kindergarten, the two never really communicated properly. Or, well, Cheryl pushed Tristan away with any chance she got. A regular day to them would be a faceless girl trying to commit suicide, and a sunshine boy rescuing her before the gates of hell. In the past 12 years, nothing changed. Absolutely nothing. And when something happens, something completely outrageous and compelling, the two are pushed together closer than they've ever been before. Too close, maybe. But, this didn't change anything. It COULDN'T change anything. Right? If fate had other plans for them, could everything go TOTALLY wrong? Obviously... ~~~ "Stop.. trying to kill yourself!" He retorted. His eyes closed, and he began ranting. "I don't LIKE it when you think it's a good idea to KILL yourself. I don't LIKE seeing you in pain. I don't LIKE saving you because it breaks me every time your eyes seem to lull me to sleep!" I still couldn't say anything. His hands grabbed my face, and I felt him leaning in even more, his lips a mere centimeter away from mine. His eyes were still closed, but I felt a pain behind his breathing. Every small twitch and shiver from him sent a lightning bolt down my spine. He was holding up a wall, and wouldn't let anyone tear it down. My hands moved up a little, and I grabbed his arms. Water was streaming down my face- I couldn't tell if it were tears or the ocean- and he opened his eyes. The emerald green met my grey eyes, and I looked at him, letting him stare at the fallen tears. "If you hate it that much," I whispered, "Leave me here to die." Tristan's eyes gleamed in response, and he leaned over, saying, "As if that'll ever happen." [SEQUEL: LOADING GAME] [ DISCLAIMER: This concept was developed during my middle school years. I understand how underdeveloped the plot is. ]