The Days I Remember
- MGA BUMASA 866
- Mga Boto 6
- Mga Parte 20
Kumpleto Sun, Nov 17, 20133h 54m
When I was little I never thought this would happen. I never thought I would be here but here I am with tattoo number on my arm. I can't escape, I can't see them again, I'm here, and nobody will save me or the people I am with.
There are many of us, I can't even tell you how many people are here but I know it's past the thousand mark. We are here because of one thing, we are different.
In their eyes different is bad. I guess it is, well it seems like it is but it's really not.
See this one guy had this plan. This plan was to destroy a group of people who didn't believe in what he believed. He put it in people's mind that these people were not even human just animals and that we needed to be taught a lesson. Because we were different that was the problem.
My name is Holly Amelia Cohen and this is my story.
This story is now publish and you can buy it if you want
(http://www.amazon.com/dp/1494393867/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_xP-Psb0ES7QX416T )
All Rights Reserved
#154
nanowrimo13
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Magugustuhan mo rin ang
Before The Rebuild: The Prequel to Rebuilt
Before Mike, before the love story people know now, there was me-raw, broken, and surviving. This is the truth I never thought I'd be strong enough to tell. I was 22 years old when my life shattered. I was raped in a back alley and left bleeding, alone. When I turned to the police, hoping for help, they didn't protect me-they shamed me. They called me slurs. They asked me what I'd done to deserve it. What I had worn. Whether I had "led him on." No one believed me. Nine months later, I gave birth to my son. I named him Aerion Jace Rosier-Aj. His name means strength, wisdom and power in Greek. I gave him that name because i wanted him to have everything I felt had been stolen from me. He was my light, even in the darkest time of my life. But the darkness wasn't done with me. My two older children, Samuel and Emilie, ended up with my first ex's mother, and I lost all parental rights to them. And then came the 18 months of sex trafficking. They used Aj as collateral-my baby was the only reason i obeyed. I was forced to do what they wanted, or they would have killed him. They only let me see him for one hour each day. I was deprived of food, stripped of dignity, starved down to 75 pounds. I remember the blue car Aj was in the day the police sting finally saved us. But even after we were freed, i wasn't really free. the PTSD haunted me. I avoided certain materials, certain places, even certain sounds. And every night, I heard the voices. Every relationship after that was wrong-narcissists who broke me down even further. Men who convinced me I was unworthy, unwanted. My current ex even told my son Aj that he wasn't wanted-that he was nothing. I let it happen, and the guilt kills me. I became "the girl who never cried." I thought if I never cried, maybe none of it really happened. But the truth is, it didn't. And it changed me.
Hunted
*Completed* My name is Silver Jones, or at least it is now. I have been hiding in the witness protection program since I was a kid. I knew the rules. Stay quiet, stay invisible. If no one notices me, the less likely he will find me. But everything changes when I get to the small town of Hopesprings, Colorado. The town wasn't on a single map, so I guess my handlers thought it was the perfect place to hide. Everything goes unnoticed there, but that was until I learned the town's hidden secret. It wasn't on the map because it was built for the witness protection. This gave a whole new meaning to hiding in plain sight. I'm not the only one being hunted down. The government decided to round us all up and place us together. It almost seems like they wanted a bright red target on our heads. Now it is easier to be found. I know he's coming for me, but the question remains. Who will he bring with him? What happens when the town where everyone's hiding is found by their worst nightmares? ***** This book is selected as mature because of the violence depicted and the language used. Although it does depict much blood, it isn't overly described. If at any point, the graphics are too much, stop reading and message me about it. This novel does have spelling and grammar mistakes. This story is the first book I have ever uploaded to this site, and for those of you brave enough to read it, I applaud you. It really is horrible, like seriously bad. There are many plot holes and mistakes, so read at your own risk! This story has not been edited. All Rights reserved to me. Characters are my own. Picture on cover belongs to whoever posted it on google (i.e. Not mine) Read, Comment, Vote, and Follow.Kumpleto
Freedom (Sequel)
I held my hand above my eyes, trying to survey in the back of the wild audience. Everyone was watching me. Everyone. Thousands of eyes laid on me with their mouths opening and screaming at me. "Eric! Hey Eric over here!" I tuned them out as I tried harder to look for him. I wanted to see it. I wanted to see his eyes filled with hatred. But I look back to see him with his arms crossed. The "new " Warden is what they call him. I can't believe that hell- hole of a town still exists. I look at him with disgust only to find him pull a smirk on the side of his face. I laid my hand down and look at the hundreds of people waving their hands to get my attention. "Eric! Sir please one question!" A lady screamed above everyone else in front of me. I look down to see the woman waving her arm wildly. "Sir what really happened to her? Was she left there? Why did you let this happen?" I raise my hand to her, telling her to stop. She looked at me with wide pleading eyes. I could feel a chill crawl up my with the sudden impact of nightmares. Julie. I took a deep breath, fighting the tears. "She wanted it to happen." A sequel to Let Me In.Kumpleto
In Shadows of Night
I woke to a sudden breeze invading the warmth from the heavy blanket that caressed my skin. Here, alone with my thoughts, the still, calm quiet in the atmosphere is almost painful. I feel suffocated in the clingy, static air. In quiet, still moments like these, I can almost feel Him. I don't know who "Him" is, but I can feel his presence. It's almost calming, especially on fearful, anxiety fueled nights. Usually, he was the strongest when I had a nightmare. The nightmares weren't as common now, but, right after everything happened, I was having them every night. I'd wake up and swear I was drenched in blood, my eyes and lips sticky, my nose filled with the smell of iron and fuel. After everything, that's when Him first came. From there, he just never left. I can usually sense when Him is near. Today, though, his presence is stronger. I can almost feel Him next to me, weighing down the mattress. Some nights, I roll over and imagine how he looks, envision his smile or the sparkle in his eyes. He's never there and I'm left clutching to the thought that he exists, staring into empty air. Tonight, though, I swear I can reach out and touch him. Extending my hand gently, I sweep my hand out into the darkness and meet an inexplicable warmth. A scream rips from my lungs as hands cover my face and two icy blue eyes stare back at me, daring me to speak again. A soft cloth caressed my nose and mouth before I felt myself fade into bed. All Rights Reserved. Contains graphic descriptions of violence and assault. Contains battle scene.Kumpleto
Look What You Made Me Do
"Don't tell anybody about this." "If you just ignore it, it'll stop." "There's nothing I can do to help you." And so I did everything I was told. I shut up. I put on a brave face. I followed all the rules. But that was the past and it's not who I am anymore. I will be loud. I will be angry. I will tell the truth. Look what you've done. You gave me a story to tell. ----------------- Unfortunately, a true story. DISCLAIMER: This is my side of the story and, with the exception of a few voicemails/text messages/statements from friends, it all comes straight from my memory. As is the case with most PTSD brains, my memory isn't very good so I can't 100% confirm the accuracy of anything, but it is written almost exactly as I remember it. If anyone reading this happens to know something I don't, feel free to let me know. ----------------- Thank you for reading. ----------------- Dedicated to Sketch, and Toto, and Dr. Worm, and Mia, and anyone else (real or imaginary) that I loved, but they hated.Kumpleto
The Day I Turned To Stone
They said it would only feel like a moment. Close my eyes, drift off, and wake beneath another sun. I believed them. We all did. The world was ending, and The Passage Program was our last chance to save what was left of it. Sleep through the ruin. Wake to a beginning. I don't remember falling asleep. Just the weight of the air, the pressure in my chest, the feeling that something inside me was... slipping. If I'm awake now, why can't I move? If I'm alive, why does everything feel so still? They said I'd wake to a new world. They never said what it would cost.
What Lies in Lisa Lake
Returning since my departure in the book I wrote called Dev-Devine Intervention. Driving Across country from Oxnard, California to Middletown, Pennsylvania in my 1995 ford explorer. Coming full circle since leaving in the traumatic fashion. I would return to battle the demons I left a year prior. In fact a lot would change in a course of a year. My return would send shock waves through the community as my ex would transition into a female half assed since my departure. Leaching on his new host of convenience. I would start to rebuild my life by living in my car before getting a supervisor position with Sheetz. Along the way fate and rekindling friendship would bring me back to Lisa Lake. Juggling the heavy demand of my job that would work me 9pm-7:30am most days; the yelling that would affect my sleep. A visit at the Hershey Medical Center would result in a trust fall onto the concrete surface below. Partially unconscious I would get tossed around like a pizza from machine to machine. Head injury that would result in my inability to return to work and subsequently let go of my position. A turn of my luck I decided to refocus my purpose in earning my keep in where I am living. Accommodating the elderly couple and making their lives better in order to restore peace in the household. However, the dark truth is unraveling the scam behind the abuse of a 70 year old woman. How she was trapped in a marriage of convenience for her husband; The abuse that she was suffering from and how people with a hidden agenda took advantage of her with the help of her foolish husband. Understanding how it took my hard work to save her from the hell of her husband's creation. Eliminating the leaches one by one. Nobody should abuse the elderly and nobody should profit from the abuse of the elderly. I bring everything hidden in the darkness. To the light.Kumpleto
The world is ending and I have unlimited supplies
They said the world was ending, but it didn't start with fire or war. It began with a storm-just like any other. But this time, it didn't stop. The rain fell for days, then weeks, and then came the flood that drowned everything. When the sun finally broke through the clouds, people thought it was over. They thought it was hope. But that hope was a lie. The sun scorched the land. Insects bred in the rotting water. Plague spread like wildfire. Water became scarce, food even scarcer. They said Mother Earth was angry, and I believed them. I did everything to survive. Even if it meant relying on a filthy, twisted man for bread. He preyed on girls like me-young, desperate, orphaned. He fed us, clothed us, and in return, demanded we sell our bodies. He called it "the price of protection." Men came to us like vultures. They stripped away our innocence and left us hollow. And then, one winter night, starving people stormed our hideout. They came with knives and desperation. I threw myself in front of the youngest girl when one lunged to stab her. I took the blade meant for her. As my body went cold, I felt no fear. Just peace. Finally, I thought. This nightmare is over. But when I opened my eyes again... I was in my bed. Warm. Dry. Dressed in pajamas. It hadn't been a nightmare. It had been real. And now, it's happening all over again. But this time, I won't be weak. This time, I won't be used. This time... I'll survive. No matter the cost.
Before Mike, before the love story people know now, there was me-raw, broken, and surviving. This is the truth I never thought I'd be strong enough to tell. I was 22 years old when my life shattered. I was raped in a back alley and left bleeding, alone. When I turned to the police, hoping for help, they didn't protect me-they shamed me. They called me slurs. They asked me what I'd done to deserve it. What I had worn. Whether I had "led him on." No one believed me. Nine months later, I gave birth to my son. I named him Aerion Jace Rosier-Aj. His name means strength, wisdom and power in Greek. I gave him that name because i wanted him to have everything I felt had been stolen from me. He was my light, even in the darkest time of my life. But the darkness wasn't done with me. My two older children, Samuel and Emilie, ended up with my first ex's mother, and I lost all parental rights to them. And then came the 18 months of sex trafficking. They used Aj as collateral-my baby was the only reason i obeyed. I was forced to do what they wanted, or they would have killed him. They only let me see him for one hour each day. I was deprived of food, stripped of dignity, starved down to 75 pounds. I remember the blue car Aj was in the day the police sting finally saved us. But even after we were freed, i wasn't really free. the PTSD haunted me. I avoided certain materials, certain places, even certain sounds. And every night, I heard the voices. Every relationship after that was wrong-narcissists who broke me down even further. Men who convinced me I was unworthy, unwanted. My current ex even told my son Aj that he wasn't wanted-that he was nothing. I let it happen, and the guilt kills me. I became "the girl who never cried." I thought if I never cried, maybe none of it really happened. But the truth is, it didn't. And it changed me.
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