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Alive
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing11m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Mar 10, 2016
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Fiction
Social Themes
What started off as a lingering sadness, turned into something much deeper. - During the summer leading up to James Reeson's sophomore year, his father is killed in a car cash. With the traumatic event consuming his life, he falls into a deep depression over the course of one year. But now that he is in recovery one year later, everything seems to change when he is assigned a new therapist. With a new atmosphere and a new way of coping with his emotional health, he meets new people, too. One person in particular. And her name is Clara. - As the two meet once and for all, they are connected not by their mental illnesses, but also by each other's hearts. When the two grow closer as time stretches on, James begins to question if Clara is benefiting him for better or for worse. But there is only one way to find out. That way may be too late for the two and their toxic friendship but James just can't seem to get away when Clara seems to be the only one who can make him feel alive.
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She swears she hates him. He's convinced he hates her more. But when secrets, lies, and late-night whispers begin to blur the line between enemies and something they wouldn't even consider, neither of them is ready for what's coming. *** Aliana is loud, impulsive, and dangerously unpredictable. She lies when she's scared, smiles when she's breaking, and keeps everyone away with her endless sarcasm and sharp tongue. She doesn't need anyone. Especially not him. Ali is silent storms and cold stares. The boy with the bad reputation, a past no one talks about, and a temper that makes people flinch. He wants nothing to do with drama, especially when it wears red lipstick and calls him names. They can't stand each other. So why do they keep ending up alone in the same room? Why does every fight feel like foreplay? And why does hating him hurt more than it should? ~~~~~~ He kisses me, again and again, raw and consuming, and then pulls away; I can feel his green eyes piercing my soul. "What you told me last time, say it again," he whimpers breathlessly. "What?" I manage to ask, confused, and reel him in again for another kiss. He pulls back again, his breath hot against my skin. "That you hate me, tell me that you hate me." "I hate you," I tell him almost instantly, the lie burning on my tongue. He kisses me harder and more hungrily, and the words slip out again from my tongue: "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." His murmurs deepen into groans, and at this exact moment, I ask myself how I'm still standing, still breathing, still present. ~~~~~~

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