17 Things I Found In Your Bedroom

17 Things I Found In Your Bedroom

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Jul 7, 2016
Ace used to be a regular busker with his guitar and top hat on the streets bordering a beach in England. To the naked eye, he was a happy eighteen year old student enjoying life the way it should be enjoyed. But there were secrets under the happy, musical side of Claire's boyfriend, and they can only be found in a diary. The diary he gave her after he committed suicide. Along with a key to his house, a flimsy notebook and a bunch of memories, Claire uncovers seventeen items to symbolize the meaning behind his death, whilst battling with depression, a concerned mother and old friends on the side. It seems like the plan all along; to write a diary on the seventeen reasons why, and to keep an item for each story. But the scrawny signatures and fluent hand writing are all it takes to realize none of it was ever intended. No, all the pain that came with the deaths, drugs, bullying and secrets in that diary was never intended. And to top it all off, there's apparently a new boy in school. He doesn't talk, wears all black, and sits at the only spare table alone at lunch.
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!!Trigger warning: suicide, Implied/Referenced Self Harm!! Warnings before sections. . This book is currently discontinued, if I find motivation to finish it it is not in the foreseeable future. . "Trust me." His voice was soft and calming, the way that a good father could be assumed to sound. "This isn't what you want, it never has been and it never will be. Confusion is difficult to work through, but if you just let me help you, I can show you that it can be worked through." He rolled up his sleeve, showing several white streaks across his skin. The other was shocked. "N-no, I'm not good for anything, I'm nothing there's nothing for me." He shook his head many times, holding it in his hands after a bit. "No." "Can I touch you?" The boy who was trying to help this poor soul had approached a few paces. His voice was now quieter, more soft, and still caring. The boy at the bridge took a moment to think, then nodded his approval. The savior gently took the boy's hands delicately in his own and gently pulled the boy back. Well, less of a pull and more of a gentle suggestion. It worked and the boy stumbled down off of the edge. The boy started to cry. How could he be so weak that a boy, the same age as him, who seemed to have the same ideas and hatred toward himself as he, could keep him from stepping off? The other simply gently led him to his vehicle and took out a water bottle out of the backseat. The boy took it and looked at it suspiciously. "It's untampered, look, it's still sealed." Upon seeing this, the boy opened it and took a few sips of water. "Thank you. For the water." The savior smiled. "It's nothing much." He shrugged. "Have a phone? If you want I can put my number in and then you'll always be able to tell someone if you're having a pissy day." Surprisingly enough, the boy agreed. . They would both be around twenty.

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