Read some chapters to my book

Nevaeh Book 1 Chapter 1Chapter One Preview


Book 1 
A book of choices 
Interval section 1 
‘Walking the halls’ 
Marcel Ray Duriez

Have a voice: 
‘The power behind words and voices is substantial to life! This book is dedicated to all of you readers, which did not have a voice at one time. Maybe you are trying to get your voice back. Nonetheless, let us not fail to remember all the voices, which will never speak again.’ 
‘Yes, be that voice with this book, this book is for you, to speak up, and be heard. 
Why? 
So, that there are no more lost and forgotten voices of life. This book is a stepping stone to abolish bullying altogether, along with your help; we can take that step forward, and forget about the past!’ At this time, I would like you all to take a moment of silence, to remember someone, that is no longer with us. So, that they are not forgotten.  

Preface: 
To understand, you have to read, lines of a story just like mine. For the reason that if you do not then you find out fast that life is going to suck, and then you make the discovery, that you are going to die alone.  At least that is what I thought; I thought I read, my story before it was written
, and this note was the last thing that I was going to
write. However, I never realize that there was so much more to life, which I did not appreciate. I came so close to the end. Yet I got additional unplanned lifespans. Yet, was the second chance what I needed?  
Nevertheless, there were things that I concerned my mind with, which was not substantial to my existence. 
 If anything- learn from me. Try to do the virtuous things I did and not the mistakes I made. Though it is up to you to decide what was good or bad, it is what you feel and believe is morally right in your mind.  
Yeah- I never really put any thought to what was going to happen to me someday, and the others that are part of my surroundings. 
However, life goes on, and the existing of what was stands for nothing but- a memory of what you can and cannot have. If you are someone like me, but all I ever wanted was someone that appreciates me. They say life is free, or is it. Do I want it- No- not really!  
‘The existence of life…!’ Is what I do not want, to have any
more. There must be away out of all this misery, that I live in day to day? ‘They say dying is easy, as well as lasting, and living is difficult and uncertain.’ While- I am going to find out! 
I guess life is all about what you want, need, and love.
Likewise, existing in life really comes down to what you cannot have in it. 
 All I have to say is don’t let anyone or anything pin you down, and make you less than whom you are. Always be whom you were meant to be, regardless of what they say… because who in the hell are they! 
My story- is somewhat graphic at times, just like looking into a black and white photo of the past in a scrapbook. All the color in it washes away over time, one way or another. Besides all that is left is still frames that keeps fading, and distorting. 
My natural life goes into much detail about me, and my loved ones. Just so, you know that ‘you’ have been informed of what to expect! Let’s go through this voyage united with a strong voice, and are heads held up. Let’s be proud of- ‘Who we are, not what we are.’ 

Chapter: 1 
Part: 1 
First Visions of Emotions 
I am standing alone bare and yes, I am completely naked to the world outside. So, unprotected by the atmosphere above and around me, so unlike like the day I was born into this hellish world. 
My life was not always like this! But as of now, I stand trembling on top of this cruel land, which I call my native country or my home town. 
Some call me by my name, and that is Nevaeh May Natalie. 
Some of the others like the kids I go to school with in this land, they have other titles for me. However, you can identify me as the name of: Nevaeh. That is if you want too. 
I do not think that even matters to you really. What my name is… it is not significant. Nor does my name matter to anyone out there for miles around. At least that is the way it seems to me. 
I feel alone! 
It is like I am living a dream. I didn’t think my nightmare of orgasmic, tragic, and drizzling emotions pouring in my mind would last this long. 
It like a thunder storm pounding in my brain. I have come home from yet another day of hell that would be called school to you. 
I don’t even go into the house, until I have this restricting
schoolgirl uniform torn off my body. I feel like my skin is crawling with bugs when it is on my figure. 
It’s mid- September and I am standing in the rain. It is, so cold,
so lonely, and so fucking loveless! 
Yet this is not usual for me, I am always naked around my house, I have my reason you’ll see. 
The rain is falling down on me, like knifes ever senses the moment I got off the damn bus. 
The rain it is matting my long brown hair on my as it lies on down my backside. 
Yet I okay with it… at last I am free. To a point! I still feel so trapped by all of them. Ten or twenty minutes have passed; I am still in the same vary spot. Just letting water follow down me. I’m actually drench! 
I can feel the wetness as it lingers in my hair for a while, so unforgivably soaking my body even more. Counting my blessing, I feel satisfied in a way when I do feel it dropping off ends my hair. 
Like it is wiping away everything that happened to me today, away from the day of the past. 
The wetness is still running down the small of my back thirty minutes must have passed. 
At this time, it follows to the center point on my back. Then all the way down in-between my petite butt cheeks. 
It streams off my butt to the ground near my heels of my feet. I can feel as if that part of me is washed clean from the day that I had to go through. 
Some of this shower is cascading off my little face, and it slowly collects on my breasts, where it beads up, and separates into two different watercourses all the way down to my belly button. 
I eyeball it, as it goes all the way down the front of me. It trickles down on me to where it turns the color of light pink off my ‘Girly part.’ Almost like a waterfall gushing in-between my legs. Smacking my mud-covered toes. My legs are so weakly holding me upright, after stand so long. 
Eventually the pounding get rains stronger. Making me fall to
the ground with a soft thud. Where I will remain until I feel that I can get up and over what has happened to me. That’s if I can… like if I can accept it all. I feel the dropping rain is weeping for me, like God's tears. 
However, it is like it is all pounding down on me at once. I look,
up to the sky, lying on my backside. 
It hits me! 
The pain hits me! I start rolling around, like a pig in mud. I have the sensation like I have been ripped in two parts in my centered hips and vagina. 
Even with all this rain. I feel that my vagina will surely never
feel the same, or like it’s clean again. It’s all because of them! 
No! The rainwater can only wash away somewhat of what they have done to me. Never all of it… never! It cannot wash away all my fears that I have. They have sucked my bean! Tugged on the hood, until I thought they would bite it off me completely. 
That is why I’m bleeding! 
They rubbed and touched me in all the places. They ripped my black hole wide open, with their hateful fingernails and slashing teeth.
I cannot run away from them. They always find me! Always, I have nowhere to run or to hide! 
I cannot stop them from fingering, stabbing, and sucking on me! My nipples are raw! They beat me up for the enjoyment. Pledging with God saying this has to stop. Yet it goes on every school day. 
I have to get away from them. I need to get away! I just need to
okay! It is like these visions of what my life existence is about comes and goes away from me. 
Sometimes it’s like I black. I know how a candle feels, struggling not to be blown out by the rushing air. 
The air that is around me now, is making my slit labia skin hurt with burn and sting. Burning hotter than a fame, before snuffed out! 
I walk over to my book bag, and find my one pink notebook. I open it to that one page, the one that I have dog-eared. 
‘There it is!’ I say, as I rip it out. The paper is jagged and wet,
but I have the farewell note in my hand. I made it earlier in school at lunch when I was sitting alone, on this crumpled up notebook paper. 
The black ink is running like a watercolor all over all my shaky childlike penmanship handwriting. All has on it all words that need to be said, about my existing in life! 
There all there, maybe spelled incorrectly, but there regardless.
I feel like I am existing not living! 
It is as if I have all these flashbacks, to the point it haunts me. Even at the strangest times, my mind drifts off. Like I said- It is all because of them! 
I have every right to be troubled! Yes, no, maybe… what do you think? Look at me, and close your eyes tightly. 
Now can you seem me? I was never like some of you: popular and loved. Or maybe you’re like me, which fits in to everything that category is not. 
Do you see my teardrops, that splash out of my blue eyes? 
Do you? 
Do you see my brown hair that covers over them and hides my true emotions in class? 
Do you even fucking care? 
Do you feel what I feel right now? Can you feel my hurting
insides? Nope did think so, no one can feel it unless they live it! 
Have you ever had to feel just like I do? Can you see my make-
up mixing with my teardrops, as it all falls to the ground like my emotions, passions, and caring? If not you're just as heartless as them! 
It just seems that everything in my life is like trickling down my body, and away from me in every way imaginable. 
As a result, the only things I can do is get up, and raise my hands up to the heavens. While shouting the question- ‘Why did you let this happen to me?’ 
I hear that small voice in my head again it’s a small whisper
saying: ‘End it! End it!’ 
I have nothing but my split thoughts rushing in my head. Like a screaming bolt of lightning cracking in the sky above me. Shit! 
I say! Should I just end it all? I mean I’m only fourteen years old. But there is not one person around here for me. Not one which is going to miss me at all. 
I came to that gloomy conclusion a long time ago. Would anyone remember me? Would anyone really care? I should end it all right now! I think about me grabbing my uniform, and how I would do it. 
The same awful uniform that I tugged and unsnapped off
myself, an hour ago, I see it over there, like it’s staring me down. 
Calling out as it’s lying in the mud. I crawl over on my hands and knees, grabbing my minor skirt, pulling the belt out of the keepers.
To do what must be done! Holding the belt in my small hands. 
I stop and look at my finger nails, which are painted lime green
with pink straps. Fuck them all! I say, will making the black leather belt into a noose, looping, twisting, and coiling it through the shiny silver buckle to make snugger around my neck. Sure, I am thinking about the belt and it snapping my neck. But that pain is nothing like what they put me through. At least with this it’s over and done fast. But I also thinking about that last fall also, that I would take. I have the belt around my neck attached to the rope of my tree swing. 
All I have to do is swing and jump off, and it would pull me back
through the air. 
(Eye twitching) 
Oh-yes! Ha ha ha…! It would be my peace, peace at last! Sure, I don’t want to hang myself, but at the same time I do. The voice in my head is saying too, and getting more vibrant. Do I have a choice at this point? Oh Yes, I don’t! I am going to dangle! Yes, dangle off one of these old angel oak tree branches, tonight. This ancient tree is next to the rundown house! The home of loneliness, and it feels as empty inside as I do right now. Why do I want to do this? Fine: I will tell you why, mainly so that everyone from my school of hell can see me up here in the tree naked. 
That way everyone, even her would be able to see me, with their own eyes. So, they can see their wounds that they did to me. Realizing all the gashes, which they gave me over time, and the ones I give myself because of them. They all can look at me, and see it all… Just like, I see it every day when I look at my own reflection! They all can think- about what they have done to me. 
However, I do not think they would really care. If they did see me hanging there bare, lifeless, and limp. 
They have no emotions for me in their pee-brained minds, to feel anything. I ask- can you grasp me; can you feel me? Can you get the impression of me hanging there- all by myself? I am so lonesome and afraid! 
You know- I do feel as if I would be better off being dead! Don’t
you think so too? How did I let things get so out of hand? Or did I? Is this all meant to be? Really…? I just do not know what to believe anymore. I sang through the air, and jumped. I did it! But not like I planned. One way or another that made me come to my senses. I got lose from the noose, on my tree swing, and fell hard to the ground below. That is when I walked into the home, with my head down. And went up the steps up to my room dripping wet. 
While leaving my school uniform, and everything else behind, outside in the rain and the mud. My belt still entwined around the rope of the tree swing. I feel so weird, like never before. I sat stark naked in my bed soaking wet, rocking hoping for nightfall to come. Why? I know… it will only dawn another day. That’s going to repeat all the hell ones more. Yet this is my question I ask to myself, as I am laying in my bed holding onto my teddy bear. ‘Is it me who is the issue, or the ones that are all-around me?’ I answer myself- ‘I know that there is not one person on this planet, who truly cares if I am even here or not.’ Oh God- ‘Why does my life have to be like this?’ I do not think I can take any more of living in this town! 

Part: 2 
The PEOPLE, SCHOOL, EVERYONE, and EVERYTHING is so fucking FAKE! 
I feel that it is all just another way for the SOCIETY to make me feel inferior. Because they think, they are so SUPERIOR over me, and who I am to them. Every day of my life, I have felt like I have been drowning in a pool, with weights attached to my ankles. 
Of course, there is no way for me to escape the chains that are holding me down. The one and only person, that holds the key to my freedom: WILL NEVER 
LET ME GO! I live in this small dull town for too damn long. It is an UNSYMPATHETIC, obscure, lonely, totally depressed and depressing place. All these streets surrounding me are covered with filth. My old town was completely left behind, when the city made the
transformations to the main roads; just to save five minutes of driving, through this country town. Now my town sits on the one side of that highway. 
Like a dead carcass to the rest of the world, which rushes by. What is glum about this is that it is a historic miniature town, with some good old landmarks. However, the others I see downright neglect what is here, just like me, it seems. Other than me, no one cares. Yet I care about all the little things. I am so attached to all these trivial things, as if they are a part of me. It saddens me to see anything go away from me. It’s a place where the garbage bags blow a crossed the road, like the tumble-wheat’s of the past. Where if you do not look where you are going, you will absolutely, fall in or trip, in one of the many potholes or heaved up bumps in the pavement. 
That is one perfect way of explaining the appearance of this ghost town. There are still some reminders of the glory days, when you look around. Like: The town clock that is faded black that has chipped enamel; it seems that it is always missing a few light bulbs. The timepiece only has time pointing hands on the one side, and it never shows the right time of day anymore.  
The same can be said for the neon signs on the mom and pop shops, which flicker at night as if they're in PAIN. Why? Because of negligence! I get the feeling most of the time, as they must do, when looking around here at night. The street lamps do not all work, as they should the glass in them are cracked. 
The parking meters are always jammed, or just completely broken off their posts altogether. The same can be said, for the town sign that titles this land. It is not even here anymore. 
The town is nameless, but the post are all that is left behind. Yet I call this town- The Land of Many Steeples. Just look around from a high place, you’ll see why. 
The red brick roads have been covered over, along with the tram tracks underneath. Covered over with lumpy tar patches. I think it stripped away the beauty of the town. Don’t you think? I mean just look at the plywood that is covering over the windows of The Bayard Hotel. It seems like every other building is falling down around me, and made into a parking lot. No one cares, that it is happening. Yes, falling apart just like me! 
Yeah- ‘No postcard envy!’ 
Sometimes I walk along the railroad tracks. Which goes throughout this land, which truly has been forgotten about. Back to my home The Dwelling of Lost and Lonely Dreams, also called the homestead. This is one of the place that consumes my every moment of every day, when I not sitting in the hellhole- alias school. Yes, that is what I call the school, the hellhole! Here in this rural town, I sometimes do not think there is intelligent life. Why do I think this?
Will because, the only thoughts that go on in their minds is who is going out with whom? 
My age group it seems all they want to know, is if they are
dating, faking, or taken. As well as if, they are gay, straight or who their making. I like to say, that this sweet old town has become more like a habitation over time. Now it is a place 
‘Where the dresses go up, the pants go down, and everything goes in the HOLE.’ 
You know what I mean. It is an inhabitants; everyone knows
your name. However, they all do not even care you exists in life at all. Its occupant’s main concerns in their existence of life is the status updates, they are getting from everyone they think they know, on their cell phones, laptops, and other networking connections. 
All these kids have to be contended one way or another. It is
like the most important part of their day- surely it is. As for me I thought I could, care less about what other people SAY, DO, and THINK. That I am my OWN person that does her own thing. ‘I will not let any devices roll my life.’ That this is the problem with my generation. Like they have their heads up their ASS, and they cannot see what is going on around them. (I wanted so hard to be just like them.) But they are not seeing what they need to see. ‘Stop being so ignorant to what is going on all around you!’ (I understand this now, I didn’t them.) 
Here are some things I see on weekdays in my week. These days consist in me having to ride on these disgusting yellow school buses, with their STICKY FLOORS and RIPPED UP SEATS. While having everyone, staring at me with simple smiles on his or her faces; the bus is transporting all of us to the hellhole. I have to endure this every- day, other than Saturday and Sunday. ‘Really this is my existence in life?’ It is all repetition constantly. Saturday- I am in my room most of the day, or working around the house helping, out what I can. Sunday, it is church, homework; shower earlier than on other days, and off to bed early. 
About that time every night, that is when I put on my favorite pink nighty, which I remove, when I am under my cozy bed covers and comforter. Making sure, I am with my teddy bear and naturally, I am safe from all of them at least until morning comes. When on the school bus, I sit and watch these poor innocent kids as they are harassed myself included, yes picked on constantly; as if they are reigning towers over us, we are their victims. They smash are faces into the crud covered floor, until the words no longer hurt. With the higher authority doing nothing to STOP what is going on to us. Yet it is mostly me that is in the line of their rage. They the higher authority in this case the bus driver, she chooses to look away! Then after the fact, at school they ask this DUMB-ASS question. 
‘What did you do?’ Why the hell- should it matter… what we did or did not do? If there is BLOOD falling onto the floor, it really should not matter either way.
Right- I think so? You know I believe, most of the time- I along with some others we do not do anything to provoke the persistent bullying, in, which we all tolerate. It is just so upsetting to me; knowing that I cannot do anything to stop what is going on. Why? Because- If I would help them or even try to help myself… then I would have to endure more things that they do. I have enough shit to deal with; I do not need any more. I just keep silent. Furthermore- ‘What can I do?’ you know I have come to the realization there is nothing I can do. Since- Especially if you are a girl like me. I do not have the ranking or the power to do what most would be able to do. Do you get what I am saying- or no? I have come to believe that if you comfort others you get nothing but PAIN in return. Sadly, I have learned this one thing the hard way! Like most lessens in my life, not always by choice either. 
Let me not forget to mention, if you help or try to care about someone that is way down on the shit list, then you are going down with him or her like a ship hitting an iceberg, and you know that you do not have a lifeboat or a way out, once you start going down. Me I am observantly at the lowest point- you see. I am so low, down on the list, that in the ranking levels of popularity, I will never get back up. It is all part of life's vicious circle of torment. That makes them feel more popular, and pleased in their life- I guess. I do try to find within everyone peace. I try- to love them for who they are, and not what they are… I do- I care about each person. I do try- but what has it gotten me… other than a broken heart. 
At school, all these days- I have to sit in this hellhole! Where the only FREEDOMS I have our- the color of my socks, and the color of my fingernails. I feel like a uniformed little robot. I have to sit here, and do as they tell me to do. ‘I cannot freaking- stand this!’ I want to PULL my long HAIR OUT, with my fingers… while I am twirling it with my left hand. At the same time, out of anxiety biting on my finger nails on the right hand. All at the same time I am, being isolated in a ‘CLOSET’ that they call a classroom. I ask why. Why do I need to listen to all this mindlessness, and nonsense that WILL NOT have any purpose in my life at all! Aww-grrr! My God why? Whoever said, ‘Being a high school freshman, is supposed to be the greatest years of your life.’ you know what- they are DEAD wrong and unwise! Being a fourteen-year-old girl, you have your ranking, your PLACE in society. For example, you have your preps, jocks and nerds. What is so intriguing about me is that I do not seem to fit into any of these categories? I speculate that am not snobby enough to be in the preppy girls group. 
You know that- ‘Shaking my ass along with pom-poms is just not my thing.’ nor do they want me to be around them doing all that. Then there are these boys called Jocks they are just a grouping of boys that have no life, other than sweaty stinky sports. All they do is try to get with different girl every night, like most in school do. ‘If you know what I mean, and I think you do.’ ‘That is GROSS… is it not?’ 
 I respect myself more than that, but it is getting harder to
regardless. If that is what it takes to be popular, I do not want it. These types of guys just are not worthy of me I suppose. The other girls can have them all they want, and you know they do. Then lastly, nerds a sad and pathetic group of creatures that are so misunderstood. Really through no fault of their own. Most of the time, it is just the way they all are, and not what they choose to be. Just like most of us out there.
You know I am not even on that list either. As for me- and my category,
I would have to say that I am in the ‘Rejected classification.’ or ‘Reject!’ However- I do not want anybody's pity. I just want their RESPECT! That is just something I cannot have being in this unwanted grouping. Being in this rejected category is not always pleasant as you can see. I have learned to adapt and overcome to life's many difficulties up to now at least. 
I have learned that some people can do harmful and heinous things to others, yet they prosper. Then someone like me has to SUFFER through it all. It eats at you over time: ‘People are fake anger and frustration will eat at you like cancer.’ Until it kills you! When I look back at everything in my past, the whole photograph comes into focus. ‘I believe that revenge is not the answer, everyone gets a turn.’ It is just a matter of time. They will get there’s ‘Those who speak lies will pay dearly for their slanderous phrasing.’ Individuals who talk shit behind your back, and put on a front for others. They think they are deceiving you. Then again, you know what they have been saying.
They're not fooling anyone. I have been living under their false rumors, it has been problematic. But never this bad. In the past I have succeed and prosper for the most part. I have not done anything to any persons; I just really want to help people and to get to know them, that’s all. 
But I can’t have friends, they won’t let me. 
I know WHO they are that stop me for having a life, as well as I know all the lies that they have been saying about me. But I know something that everyone else doesn’t know in this town. Individuals like them are pathetic for destroying innocent lives like mine. Those people need to get lives of their own! Why so that girls like me can have ours. The ones that are saying this slander needs to stop, and think about their actions, before they write or communicate lies. ‘Just remember you think it is thrilling now, but you will have consequences to face before it is all said, and done.’ That everything you do may come back and haunt you forever! 
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