Story cover for Always On My Mind (An Elvis Presley Fan Fiction) by The5thInbetweener
Always On My Mind (An Elvis Presley Fan Fiction)
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Ongoing, First published Apr 16, 2016
It's 2016 as I wake up in my sho- my shotgun shack in Memphis Tennessee?
I asked some random person what the date was
"Pardon me sir, what's the date"
"Why it's May 1st 1968"
"..............................."
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Loneliness. Depression. Broken. Scared. Devastated. Hopeless. Mournful. Disheartening. Bleak. Joyless. Somber. I have no one. Depression and Loneliness are the only things I feel. My family tries to make me happy, but I just put on a fake smile and cry about it in my room. They act like everything is alright, but everything is not. They KNOW I was devastated about Mom's murder. They KNOW I was heartbroken about Dad's sickness that eventually killed him. That's all I've thought about. Devastation and heartbroken. Just because of those two things. Never in my life I have been this devastating. Dayton, Hayden, Angel, or Monica know how to make me truly happy. Not even my own siblings know how to make me show a real smile. Suicide is all I can think about day to day and I've almost died because of that. DEPRESSION IS A REAL THING. NO ONE KNOWS HOW I FEEL EVERYDAY. NO ONE CAN JUDGE OTHERS ABOUT DEPRESSION OR EVEN MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT BECAUSE ITS A REAL THING. DEPRESSION HAS KILLED PEOPLE. EVERYONE IN MY LIFE JUDGES ME JUST BECAUSE I DON'T SMILE, LAUGH, HUG, OR DO ANYTHING NORMAL PEOPLE DO. I CUT MYSELF, I CRY, I YELL, I VENT, I PUSH PEOPLE OUT OF MY LIFE. Those are the things people are worried about me. "Go kill yourself and join your parents in hell." They say and I just shrug it off and find a private place to hide and cry it out. "I CAN'T DEAL WITH LIFE ANYMORE!!!!" I say and I use my sharp nails and cut myself then cry some more. A gun is buried within my arm for defense from my dad, but I use it in case I am tired of society. Then that's when I met the Host Club. They saw my sadness and made me a part of it to repay my debt for accidentally breaking a vase. I am now a Host for men to flatter them, but how can normal guys want me to be a Host when I wear lip earrings, eyeliner, chains, and have a gun in my arm? I'm the definition of Hell. Then he made me smile again, something that I thought I would never get back. Happiness.
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His cold eyes moved from my face to all over my white lace dress with a clenched jaw. I felt weak in my knees but I was successful in keeping my brave face. "Nina is that you? You are looking so beautiful" he said while looking at me. I blushed I was still feeling burning holes in my back I gulp down nervously. "Have some drink?" he said while taking a glass from the waiter. "No she is leaving," said the harsh voice next thing I know champagne was all over my dress staining it and making me gasp. Before I could react he gripped my hand & dragged me near the pool area where no one could see us. I snatched my hand away from his tight grip "Why the hell you ruined my dress" I half yelled. "What the fuck you are doing at my party looking like a slut" he yelled angrily while pinning me to the wall. Listening to his words my blood boiled. "Let me guess you came here to ruin my mood by showing your ugly face," he said with an angry smirk letting me know his hate. "Stop giving yourself so much importance. I'm here for your mom. My face may be ugly but ugly souls like you are not even worthy of my life's single second" I said angrily and pushed him away from me but he didn't let me go away. "I can hide my ugly soul beside this face but ugly ducklings like you carry their ugliness which can't even be hidden by beautiful dresses because they stain everything around them with their ugliness" his words were hurting my soul. I won't give him the privilege to see my tears. With all my power I pushed him making him stumble and fall into the pool. "Happy birthday," saying that I tried to walk away with a victory smirk but he didn't let me go. Things he did to me after that still send a shiver down my spine. One thing was clear that day I would never want to see his face again in this life. But I don't know why the hell I am standing in front of him in church wearing a wedding gown. Looking at his victory angry smirk plastered to his face with my glassy eyes.
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The S.U.N. and The Peter Pan Project

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The S.U.N. and The Peter Pan Project or the day I woke up in somebody else's bed... My name is Maya, I'm seventeen and I've grown up with my brothers on the Atlantic Coast in the South West of France. Nothing seemed unusual last night when I went to bed. I wished my brothers good night, went to brush my teeth and set my alarm clock before slipping into my bed. So what am I doing in this king size bed, cuddling this dark blue plush cushion, and getting high on the delicious masculine perfume somebody left on it? All this would be easier if somebody was around to answer my questions... But all I have are these bright pink Post-it notes with instructions... So what choice do I have other than to follow them? Don't judge me! What would you do?! ------------------------------------------- But what happens when the instructions lead her to a group of boys with a sun-shaped tattoo on their left wrist just like hers, and an uncanny ability to read her mind? And why are they investigating Peter Pan, the new drug that took the lives of her friends along with that of hundreds of French teenagers last year? Most importantly, why won't they answer her questions?! Sometimes, not knowing is actually safer... _____________________________________ I'd like to thank the very talented rainydays07 for the great cover!!! :)