June

June is a month full of worries, reliefs, excitement, happiness and sadness. June is a beginning, an end, and even a middle. June is worrisome to a point where everything becomes too blurry and unknown. June is a month of graduation, a closing of one book and an opening of another. June is full of tears as you slowly bid goodbye to all your friends who you’ve known for over half your life. It is a month of happiness because all the hard work finally got paid off. Most of all, June is June, a month that no matter, you’ll never forget.

I suck, I know

I've been away for over a month and unfortunately I won't be back on until the end of this month. Exam time is brutal and I have no time for writing AT ALL. It really sucks, but I promise to post more soon. I'm going to restart my drabble challenges again, they were inspirational and I found that I kept myself useful while I wrote them. This time though, I am going to select a word that I like and then write about it...and bend the rules a little bit ;) 100 words is a little too little, don'y you think? Anyway, I will be back soon!  :)

Moving...

Hey guys, so I decided to create another blog. This one is purely based on my stories that are currently on FictionPress, FanFiction and Wattpad. Check it out if you visit this blog because of teasers. Click Here for the direct link. From now on, all my story updates will be posted there, not here. I'd rather keep this blog for creative short pieces that I sometimes write.

YTIAA- Teaser Chapter 12

A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait, I was experiencing some heavy writer's block. Please be patient. Chapter 12 is sent for editing. Enjoy :)

There were bags under his eyes. His hair was all over the place, as if he went through it more than a hundred times. He looked older -older than what I thought he was- unshaven and tired.

I didn’t feel sorry for him.

My mother had often told me that I was too naïve and good-hearted. She said there wasn’t an ounce of evilness in my soul. She called me pure. She thought I was her angel.

Right now I was so far from pure that I’d never even be able to come close to it. I hoped that he felt worse; I wished the worst for him. My heart turned so black but I didn’t take anything back. He made me feel that way. And it was never going to be fixed; I wanted to let him know that.

I was eating breakfast on the third day when his door opened. I guessed he thought that I was asleep because he looked surprised to see me on the kitchen table eating my French toast.

Accepting Me

A/N: This is dedicated to all the people who are suffering in silence. I may not know how you feel but writing this may ease your pain. I hope you know that there are people out there who will accept you no matter who you are, what you are and what you stand for. This piece is dedicated to someone special. Someone who deserves the same love and warmth that I do. Remember: We're all different but we're all the same, too.

Accepting Me

I wonder why it is so hard for you to accept me. I wonder why you deny everything that I do, why you turn your eyes to the opposite direction.

Do I disgust you? Do I make you so repulsive that you won't even see me as a person anymore?

Will you tell me why?

I never meant for this misunderstanding to occur. All I wanted was for you to love me as I am. All I wanted was to be accepted by you because I love you.

Do you know what you're doing to me?

I am hurting. I am hurting, inside, outside, everywhere. I don't want to shed these tears anymore. I don't want to cry helplessly as you take your anger out on me, over and over again.

Make me understand.

Tell me what to do and I'll fix it. Give me a sign, a word, anything just so we could smile. Just so I could turn back time when you still loved me.

Is it because I'm not like her?

I don't want to be. We're different, you know? We may come from the same blood, but we're each unique in another way. Why don't you see it? Why won't you let me in?

I don't want to close myself from you anymore. I want you back. I need you back. I crave for your love and warmth, and hope that you do too.

Why is it so hard to accept me? What had I done that was so wrong?

My Own Pace

I don't believe in love. I've never experienced nor have felt it. I don't know what it is, so don't ask me if I love you or not. I don't know. I don't want to know.

I'm afraid. Afraid of what my response will be. I'm scared to fall because if I do, no one will pick up the pieces of my broken heart. Not you, not anyone.

Let me live the way I want to. Let me stay in one piece as I lose myself in you. Let me believe what I want, no matter how absurd it may seem to be. Let me do what I think is right —not love you at all. Let me be carefree. Let me continue lying to myself, even if it isn't true. Let me stay in your arms even though our thoughts are worlds apart.

          .

Just please don't bring it up. Don't ruin the perfection you’ve created for me. Don't talk about it, don’t use it against me. Lie to me, look away but still smile. I'm not ready yet. When I will be I'll tell you, I promise. Don't give up on me yet, my time will soon come.       

Until then, wait for me.

If you don’t, I might just disappear.

Remembering You

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice shaking in nervousness.

The little boy stared at the older woman in confusion and held a up the object he had found. “Mommy, who is that?” he asked, a twinge of excitement in his tone.

The young woman shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment, wishing this was all an illusion.

“It's no one Michael,” she replied, grinning halfheartedly at the child.

“But his eyes are green, mommy, just like mine,” he countered, a smile appearing on his baby features.

For a second, she had thought the colour had drained off her face. She wondered briefly how the old photograph landed in his hands, before turning her attention to the curious boy.

“Yes, just like yours,” she whispered longingly, walking closer to the boy. She grabbed the photo from his petite hands and stared at it. How long had it been since she had last seen him, 3, 4 years?

“Who is he?” the boy questioned again.

“Your father,” she replied, unaware of how much those two words were going to change their lives. “He's your father,” she repeated, more to herself rather than to him.

The Lies That Bind Us

A/N: A story I long started but never got to finish. Thought it would be interesting to put it back on :) Enjoy.

Prologue

She had to escape.

There was no way she could endure anymore pain, could not take another beating or the sound of his screaming voice.

You worthless piece of trash! No one will ever love you.

You do not fucking deserve to live!

You'll never be good enough!

You'll never be smart enough!

You'll never be the daughter I wanted you to be!

Those words.

The words that had sent her to hell every time she had heard them rang loudly in her ears.  He made his point crystal clear during the first few times.  Now, all they did was create holes in her chest. Holes that had gotten larger and larger at each beating she had received.

She needed to get out of this hell hole no matter what. She didn't care if she was left homeless or starving. Anything was better than seeing him. Anything was better that those never ending blows. Anything.

She sighed and swallowed back the tears and the lump that had formed deep inside her throat. She would not cry, she’d promised herself that much.  Looking at her watch with a hurried glance, she had noticed she had less than two hours to pack her necessities and leave without a trace.

Quickly, almost with an inhumanly speed, she packed her clothes into a single duffel bag, shoving only necessary items that she could think of.

He'll find you. You know he will. He's the chief of the police for God's sake!

No he won’t, she had tried to convince herself many times, rummaging through her mind for reasons to why he wouldn’t. She’d clear her secret bank account, take all her IDs with her and hide them until she was a legal adult. He would never find her; he’d have no reason to.

The bag was almost full. She ran downstairs and grabbed anything else that she could find, and ran back upstairs again to fill it.

She locked her bathroom and bedroom door, a technique that would probably save her time. Those places would unavoidably be the primary locations he would search. He’d most likely scream at her to come downstairs, and when he’d receive no reply, he'd barge upstairs and try to open the door. After breaking down the door, he'd be angrier than ever, and then search her bathroom which would be locked as well.

She could see the scene play almost perfectly in her head: his livid face, purple and fuming with anger when he’d find no one in the house.

She had inwardly grinned in her head. If her situation wasn’t so bad, she would have undeniably laughed. But seeing the reason for it, sadness consumed her. She had to leave her own home.

She checked to see if she had enough bus tickets and grabbed the money that was left on the counter the day before.

Unknown to him, she had been collecting money for almost two years, when all the mess had started. Fortunately Lana was smart enough to open a bank account for Scarlett just before she had died. He knew nothing of the account and Scarlett could take the money anytime she had the need for it.

Hopefully she had five grand saved there, just in case of an emergency.

Looking back one last time at the tasteless living room, she made sure she forgot nothing. With a heavy sigh, she stepped out the lonely looking door and walked out, not bothering to lock the door behind her. Her carelessness was too evident but it wasn’t her house anymore. She was a stranger the day her mother’s bloody figure was driven to the hospital. Her father had made that clear.

She took the bus to the nearest bank and cashed out all the money she had in her account. A total of 6500 dollars was what she had received from the teller, who had looked at her with a strange expression.

Ignoring her, Scarlett placed the money in an envelope and sealed it tightly. She opened her bag and situated it deep inside, between her clothes.

She continued walking for ten minutes until she had reached the subway station. The fact that it was very close to where she had lived made matters so much easier to accomplish.

One thing she knew for certain. Brooklyn wasn’t a place she was going back to anytime soon. Her father would have to find another way to release his anger, and for once, she wasn’t going to be a victim.

As she was being carried away by the loud noise of the subway, she was recalled with a story her mom had told her when she was still a child. She closed her eyes and remembered her mother’s soft and melodic voice. As the memories started to fade away into dust, her voice still stuck to her no matter where she went.

She could never forget the kindness her mother carried within herself. She could not forget the amount of time she spent raising Scarlett. Although she had not been the most responsible, she was the best mother Scarlett could ask for.

Scarlett didn’t realize she was crying until she had opened her eyes. She forced her tears back, the promise she made herself appearing in her head. She had to be strong, if not for her then at least for her dead mother. Her mother would have wanted her to move on and that’s exactly what she was planning on doing.

She didn't know what life was going to throw on her, but she knew that something was waiting for her out there.

Change was coming.

She could feel it her bones. 

YTIAA- Teaser: Chapter 11

Pretty detailed teaser...don't you think? ;) Excuse my grammar, chapter is still not edited.

Chapter 11: Teaser

His glare was unnerving as he continued to look at me, never taking his eyes off mine. His expression was unfathomable, giving nothing away. He said nothing, moved nowhere, and stood at the exact same spot for nearly a few minutes before sighing in frustration and leaving the room.

At least he didn’t slam the door.

I snorted lightly to myself. What a joke, what a sad, pathetic joke.

I stared at the door dumbly in confusion. What the hell just happened?

Xxx

“Why did you do it?”

I snapped my head to the direction from where the voice came from, surprised there was even another presence in the room.

I stared at him in shock. How long had he been here? His eyes looked tired and for the first time I noticed a scar on his dark skinned cheek. It almost seemed to be a part of his face.

“Why did you do it?” he repeated, bringing me back to reality.

Sometimes I...

A/N: Something to keep my fingers going. I am having the biggest, most horrible writer's block in the world :/

Sometimes I...

Sometimes I feel so lazy, I don't even want to climb out of my own bed.

Sometimes I feel so weak that I want to cry, for no reason at all.

Sometimes I am so stubborn that I get into pointless fights.

Sometimes I feel like I am the stupidest person alive

Sometimes I am so angry that I really want to punch someone.

Sometimes I get so excited that I feel like singing and dancing.

Sometimes I get so inspired that I cannot seem to get my fingers of my keyboard.

Sometimes I feel so happy that I watch the same Korean drama over and over again.

Sometimes I act so silly that my mother gets so damn angry.

Sometimes I get so mad that I scream at my sister.

Sometimes I think about my crush that I stalk his Facebook pictures for hours.

Sometimes I feel so damn lazy that I do anything but school work.

Sometimes I am just not me.

Wrong

A/N: Random thought that came to my mind. I was tired of depressing pieces, so I decided to write something...lighter. Enjoy :)

Wrong

She gasped when she felt his hand touch hers, almost as if a spark of electricity jolted through them.

They glanced at each other, knowingly, and he continued running his long fingers across her skin.

It felt good, she thought to herself, tuning out the world around her; leaving them as the only two people in the room.

It was sinful, sinful as she found herself enjoying his touches, his whispers into her ear, his light kisses everywhere but her lips.

It was wrong, she knew, it was so wrong, yet it felt as if it was the most natural thing, right.

She pulled away from his unwillingly and felt his burning glaze in response.

Why did you pull away?

That unspoken questioned remained in the air she stared back at him, regretful, wanting.

It was wrong, she kept telling herself. He was her sister's lover, not hers.

Realization

A/N: I'm taking a break from the drabbles. I decided to try something else for now: write in a freestyle way. So far, I am enjoying it :)

Realization

Her hands shook as she stared at nothing.

He wasn't coming back, he had said to her.

Who was she to tell him otherwise? Who was she to beg him to stay?

She wished for the first time that she have told him. She wished that her mouth would open and let out that one word. Why couldn’t she? What had she been so afraid of that smiled and let him go?

She wasn't strong enough, she realized, as she looked at the piled up documents. She was too weak to say anything. She was so weak that she was repulsive to herself.

She thought of his face, happy, open, grinning as if there was no tomorrow.

For the first time in her life she admitted to her mistake.

But even after admitting it, she wondered why it hurt so much. Why it was so painful to even breath.

Revelation

A/N: I felt inspired, so I wrote this. I Listened to "Come November" by Thriving Ivory while writing. Music is a true inspiration, I am reminded by this everyday.  It's a sad piece, but I liked it. Enjoy :) 

Revelation

She silently wondered if she had lost her voice. She contemplated turning back and never showing up her face, ever again. When she looked up, she decided against it.

The tears came rushing down faster than she had anticipated. “I can't stay here anymore,” she said, her heart breaking at each word. “I can't do it, I can't look at their faces.” she shook her head as she said this, regret crossing her soft features.

He came closer but she took a step back, afraid that an closer proximity would bring those memories back. The ones that she desperately tried locking away.

“Don't,” she warned. “Please.” The pleading, the begging; how long more until she grew tired of that scene? How long until she completely burst?

“Don't do this, I promise it will be okay.” but his promise seemed empty now. How many times had he said it to her? She wondered if it was a reassurance to him rather than her.

“No, it won't,” she replied firmly, a humorless smile creeping up her face. “It hasn't for years. What makes you think it will now?” she asked. “I am sick, Danny. I am sick and tired of this.”

She felt as if she was going to break, the dread crawling into a veins like cancer. “I'll be back,” she stated, her voice cool, composed. “I'll be back when I am ready, I promise.”

his eyes pleaded her, his expression solemn and broken, almost matching her state. But she was no longer that naïve little girl. It was time to take a stand, run and never look back.

It was time to start new.

Windfall

A/N: Not very proud of this piece. Couldn't think of anything for this word :/

Drabble Challenge 7: Windfall

when I was in high school, my grandfather was obsessed with the lottery. At some point in my life I gave up on it and always told him that it was a waste of his money. When my dad joined the frenzy, I knew that they had to stop.

This addiction they had was so unhealthy that it was practically depressing. I long gave up on the fact that we'd win something, anything. They however were in their on world, spending money away on pointless tickets that brought nothing in return.

One day sometime in March, I received news that turned my world upside down. After all the unluckiness in the world, they had finally won a large sum of money.

I was really surprised and never thought of lottery as a waste ever again.

Pirates

Drabble Challenge 6: Pirates

“I have to go,” he said halfheartedly, looking at her with warmth filled eyes.

“I will wait for you,” she nodded, replying to him with sheer determination.

His eyes twinkled but he looked at her doubtfully.

They both knew the answer.

His life was going to change now; their life was going to change.

He was joining a new crew, a new ship, new mates. If he'll see her again he might be lucky. They weren't coming back, sailing to the far east with an open mind.

But that's a life of a pirate; he had chosen it.  

Passages

A/N: I found this one a bit challenging so forgive me if it isn't interesting. I tried.

Drabble Challenge 5: Passages

There were so many of them, she had lost count after the first row.

Lined up hungrily against the quiet walls of the building, they called out to her, begged her to touch them.

The room was full of them, as people came and went. They were used, new, some even untouched for years.

She stared at them, her eyes widening at each cover, each title, each work of art. She smiled and began walking.

Heaven, she thought to herself. She loved it. Loved how each one of them was another passage to another world that she would soon learn about.  

Out Of Time

Drabble Challenge 4: Out of time

The three sets of stairs never looked so never ending as they did that horrible Monday morning. She grew irritated as she climbed up, her cup of coffee growing cold as each minute passed.

She hated him.

He was a living nightmare who taunted her mercilessly. She wondered what would happen if she would have 'accidentally' spilled her drink at him.

She glanced at her watch, her eye brows knitting to form a frown. She was out of time, she realized. If she was going to continue with the never ending stairs, she would no doubt be late for work.

Thoughts of killing her boss passed through her, and she grinned to herself. She would get her revenge somehow, even if she'd have to suffer beforehand.   

Secrets

Drabble Challenge 3: Secrets

Her eyes watered as he held tightly onto the object, his grin widening at her horrified expression.

“If you really want, come and get it.” his smirk taunted her as she took a step forward to his tall figure. she gulped down her saliva and breathed deeply.

He wouldn't open it, he wouldn't dare go through each entry, reading each word. He wouldn't be interested, there was nothing good in those heartbreaking pages. Nothing but her deadly secrets that she knew she could never share.

“Give it back,” she pleaded, her voice sounding pathetic even to her own ears.

Misunderstandings- Prologue

Decided to start something new. Completely Cliche but still fun nonetheless.

Misunderstandings- Prologue

Monday 8:28 AM

I shove my way through the elevator and wait exactly thirty seconds. Before I know it, a loud ‘ding’ opens the door and I am back in my desk.

Welcome to another day in Decio & Co.

“Good morning Olivia, Mr. Decio is waiting for you in his office.”

“Thank you Mia, tell him I’ll be right there.”

“Oh and he says to bring with him the files with all the models’ names for AFGT.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes.

Demanding much?

Xxx

8:32 AM

“You’re late.” That’s the first thing I hear when I walk into his spacious office.

“By two minutes, Mr. Decio. That hardly counts.” I raise my eyebrows at him.

He sighs and grunts but says nothing. “Do you have the folder?” he asks expectantly.

I hand him the folder, smirking at his surprised expression. “I’ve worked for you for two years. I know you Mr. Decio.”

He nods and regains his composure. “Yes, I was just…pleasantly surprised,” he clears his throat but smiles at me.

“What’s on today’s agenda?”

“You have a meeting,” I glance at my watch, “in 23 minutes with BCBG’s representative. At 11 you are supposed to be at Bella’s for brunch with the new agency, and at 3, you’re expected to show up for the new opening of your new cosmetics line,” I say, not bothering to look at my organizer. After all, I was the one who was responsible for those events anyway.

“What’s the meeting about?” he asks, completely clueless. I roll my eyes and hand him another folder.

“You’re supposed to review their new line and comment about it. It’s your models they are using, so make sure the style is different and unique than the rest,” I explain as I point to the e-mail sent to him by the BCBG team. Seriously, the things I do for him…

“Why can’t you just go instead?” he bluntly questions.

“I don’t own this company Mr. Decio. My job is to tell you what’s on your agenda, not do it for you,” I remind him.

He sighs again, this time more in frustration rather than anything else.

“Can’t you just tag along, then?”

I shake my head in false regret. “I’m truly sorry, Sir.”

“Yeah right,” he rolls his eyes at me. “I bet you’re dancing from happiness in that pretty little head of yours,” he says, sarcasm laces in his tone.

I smile, “You’ve got me.”

Xxx

10:37 AM

“When is Mr. Decio supposed to be back? There’s a woman named Selena asking for him,” Mia asks me while I gulf down my granola bar.

I roll my eyes. The incident becomes a little bit more than common for the past couple of weeks. “Tell her he won’t be back until 5,” I say with my mouth still full.

I hear a huff and a puff, and then silence.

When I hear the sounds of the heels clicking nearing the elevator, I know she’s gone.

Typical.

My boss is such a man-whore

Xxx

5:11 PM

“Welcome back,” I say when Mr. Decio walk in. he glares at me and I smirk.

“Did it go well?” I ask innocently, ignoring his angry glare.

“Splendid, Olivia, splendid.” he continues to scowl at me, loosening his tie in the process.

“I knew it! We’re so proud of you Mr. Decio. Congratulations on your new line!”

I feel waves of anger being transmitted to me, but I smile against them as he silently explodes in anger.

“Selena was here, by the way. She was calling for you,” I call out when he starts walking away.

“Go to hell Olivia.”

I grin and slump back into my seat.

Decio-0, Olivia-1.

Take that Andreas. Take that and burn.

Xxx

A/N: I like the verb tense. It's fresh. I've never written a story in present tense before. The time thing is my favourite though...