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message 1: by Ruzina, RANdomATor (new)

Ruzina (usershow5549736-rose) | 2223 comments Mod
Hey guys! I know alot of you like to write books! I'm more of a reader personally but if you want to share a story you can do here! I know some of my friends (aka Ellen and Cici) like me to read their stories! Why not post it here for everyone to see!! <3


message 2: by [deleted user] (new)

THE GIRL WHO CHANGED MY WORLD
I’ll start at the beginning. Sound good? I’m Amber. A Mormon girl that had her entire world turned back on track by a single girl who had it off bad. I was in high school at the time. I was doing things I knew I shouldn’t and hanging out with the wrong crowd. Most Mormons weren’t like me. I was what you good call a girl who got into to much trouble and embarrassed most people associated with her. But I had my reasons. I was a light rebel-punk kinda girl. Not like law breaking or whatever, but definitely got a scowl from every teacher.
I had wavy black hair that I had dyed blonde streaks into. It was Sunday so I was getting ready for church. I put on dark purple eye shadow and gold eyeliner. I chose a rich black mascara and a bronze blush. I pick out a black denim dress and a black rhinestone short sleeve jacket. And accompanied my outfit with high heel sandals, black patterned leggings, couple clanky black bracelets, and a small black choker necklace. Not typical church stuff but I didn’t care. This was my style.
“Amber! You almost ready?! We’re gonna be late!” my mom called up the stairs. I sighed and went down calling, “Coming, mama bear!”
I got down stairs and mom shakes her head in disapproval. I knew she secretly was embarrassed by me. Embarrassed I wasn’t more like the other young women at church. I knew she had always been embarrassed that I was her daughter. I had never been super model pretty, or genius smart, or a musical prodigy, or a natural born athlete like other kids. I never tried to be a rock star. I never played with dollies or had many friends. I wasn’t a public speaker or a leader. Never tried out for school plays. Never been something to be proud of, and all she waned was a girl who was amazing at something. She didn’t care who I was, just what I could or couldn’t do.
I brush past mom and passes through by the den. My dad wasn’t a member of the church. He wasn’t even a Christian. You getting a feel for how messed up my life is? Or why I chose to become a light rebel-punk? Or why it drives me nuts that my mom practically worships the other girls in young women’s? Or why half the time I’m wishing somebody understood why I did things most Mormons disagreed with? I’ll put it simply. My mom would never even glance at me if I didn’t do something and my dad, well; I’m still trying to figure out what it will take to get him to take a chill pill and stop screaming at us every time he spoke.
I got in the car and buckled up. Mom got in the front seat in her full-length maxi purple dress and black long sleeve jacket. She began the drive to church. I dreaded getting there and mom putting on the charm and then the entire youth program, young women’s AND young men’s, swarming me and saying, “How do you hate your mom? She’s so nice!” It makes me gag when I hear that. They haven’t seen her toss me around like a sack of garbage at home. She was mean and didn’t care a lick about her only child.
I got there and sat in the back pew. I listened to people’s talks and tried to find one that would give me all the answers on how to fix my jacked up world. Sometimes, I’ll be honest with you, I had thought of killing myself to escape, but then I remembered the commandment, “Thou shalt not kill,” and assumed it meant yourself included.
Mom sat beside me writing down things for work tomorrow. It looked like she was taking notes at first glance, but really she paid no attention. She came for how it made her look. That’s it. That was why she did everything she did. It was always an act. Except at home. That’s when her true colors showed. No wonder dad seemed to hate us now. It made sense he hid in the den till you made him angry. It was better than forcing himself to admit he had a family as messed up as his.
Soon it was time for young women’s class. I hoped I’d get lucky and get to class before, “Amber! Hey!” Too late. Calele was chasing after me, gorgeous blonde curls flowing behind her. She wore an elegant purple knee length dress with a matching bow and sash. I groaned, “Why weren’t you at the youth activity last night? It was so fun! You totally missed out.”
“I was busy and didn’t want to go,” I replied. In truth I had been at home crying while my dad screamed at mom in their usual fights. I couldn’t drive yet so I had been stuck at home. Dad had slapped me because I had tried to get him to sign a permission slip to run for class president. He had said, “Why the heck would anyone want a girl like you as class president?!” His words had stung but she would never tell him. Or anybody else.
“Well, do you think you can come this week? It’s gonna ROCK!” she was too smiley for a girl in my world. How could she be so happy when I was hurting so much?
“I don’t know,” I continued walking to class hoping she would shut up and leave me alone. She didn’t have a clue who I was or what I went through.
“Please try. We all hate it when you don’t come,” she whined. I knew that was the biggest lie I had ever heard. I knew all had a ball when I wasn’t there. I was no idiot.
“I don’t know,” we got to class and I sat down away from all the other girls. She went and with all her friends on the other side of the room. I paid attention to the lesson and what the teacher said. Calele, Jamie, Cardith, and Merida all talked and whispered. They paid a little bit of attention and participated but you could tell they’d forget by next week. Tabitha, Grace, Lucia, Monique, Hannah, and Rachel all listened intently and took notes and hand their hand up for every question. I was the only girl in here with a half member family. Jamie and Rachel were sisters and their families were converts, but still would never understand how it felt to have a actress of a mom and a non-member dad.
Towards the end of the lesson Sister Tennels got up with an important announcement. She was the young women’s president. “I hope many of you noticed Carrie was missing lately,” I had. She normally sat over with Calele, Jamie, and them, “Her mom recently left her dad after finding out that he lost his job. Her dad has continued going to church. Her younger brother was diagnosed with cancer and is undergoing chemotherapy. Her older sister is away at seminar school three states away. I want to girls in the ninth grade to go and check up on her. Try to bring her back to church over the next few days.” I was in the ninth grade and I felt so bad for Carrie. In a way, I could relate. In a way, I knew how she must be feeling. In a way, “Amber can you? And Monique? Your in Carrie’s grade, right?” I nodded. Monique was a quiet African American girl with long pretty straight hair and an athletic build. Today she wore a short sleeved orange dress that was creased in a few places.
Monique nodded. I would give anything for her life. Her parents never fought had tremendous faith and were really nice. Monique’s family had a large house and lots of money but they were still really nice. Monique had high standards and lots of faith. She always was selfless and was there when you needed her. She was amazing at every. Oh, how I wished I could be her.
“Ok. You to work out when you can go to her house,” Sister Tennels said. I sighed. I wanted to help her but I didn’t. I was afraid I would just make everything else worse for her. It was probably the only thing I was good at. Messing up.
She let everyone go and Calele and friends immediately began laughing and talking loud enough for everyone to hear. I walked over to Monique, “So, uh, when should we go over to Carrie’s?”
“4 o’clock tomorrow after school work for you?” she asked brightly.
“Think so, ya,” I said. My parents might pose a potential problem though. They could keep me home, or fight, or I could piss dad off in the next 24 hours.
“See you then!” She said brightly as she went to pick up Joseph, her little brother from the sunbeams class.
I took my time getting all my stuff together. Double checking, and triple check I had everything. Until I couldn’t put it off any longer. I went to find my mom and go home to Nightmare land. I found her by the front door tapping her foot a cold stare in her eyes, “What in the world took you so long, Amber?”
“I have to visit Carrie tomorrow at 4,” I said. I believed everything they taught here and I had faith God could do anything; I just didn’t know how to escape all this. This world I called my life. This mess of my family and my lack of friends at school. Combined with my mass of enemies.
“Why? Why would she want you at her house?” My mom’s words stung but I pretended I didn’t care. I was always pretending around her nowadays.
“Because she hasn’t been coming lately and Sister Tennels wants me and Monique to visit her,” I replied.
Something like an obvious understanding crossed my mother’s face. Like that new information had told her the answer, “I understand now. She wanted Monique there to make her feel better and bring her back to church and you there to let her know that at least she isn’t you.”
Those sharp painful words were sadly familiar to me. And she would never say them if anyone else but me had been there. She would have pretended that she was happy for me and would make sure I got there until we got home before the insults began to rain on me. Then I would hold these tears till I got to my room. I still would.


message 3: by [deleted user] (new)

I walked past her silently, fighting tears as usual. I wished I had somehow built up an immunity to her daily insults of stupid, and a demon, and a regret, and a mistake, and the reason my dad avoids us. The reason he let the church. She always said crap like that so offhandedly. So easily. And she smirked at the unshed tears she saw in my eyes, daring me to scream at her and get grounded. She hated me and I couldn’t do a thing about it. “Honor thy father and mother,” was the only reason and hadn’t ran away. The only reason I put up with this bullying. The only reason I ever listened to my mother. I climbed in the passenger seat of the last car in the parking lot. A lime green Mercedes. My mom hated the way it drove and the color and only drove it for looks.
We got home and I went straight to my room. I dropped my stuff and plunged straight into my pillow, burying my face in it’s tear stained softness and cried. It was nothing new but I hated it. I hated how the one place everyone at church should be a mini heaven on Earth was the one place I felt the worst.
I didn’t bother to change. I just lay there hurting at the words my mom had said. After a few hours I cried myself to sleep.

__________________________________________ .o0O0o. _____________________________________________

I woke up the next morning, dreading the day already. My mom was going to give her usual disdain and at school Tyler was going to tease me and pick on me as usual. I’d probably get landed with detention and almost be late to Carrie’s. My usual day. A thought crossed my mind. How many people would leave her alone if they knew what she faced at home?
I dragged myself out of bed honestly hoping to be late for school. I got out and took a super long shower, took my time gelling obvious layers to my hair, and tried on everything in my closet just to find something,
I eventually chose a black spaghetti strap with a black lace top on top and some black jeans. I picked out some black boots to go with. I did my make up dark and heavy.
I went down stairs and poured cereal. Mom was already picking a fight with Dad. I ate quickly. Dad’s anger was one thing I wanted to avoid at all costs. I finished my breakfast as fast as I could and grabbed my bike. I heard my dad yelling as I closed the garage behind me. I biked to school wondering what ingenious knew way of humiliation Tyler would think of today. He was a big burly kid who was technically way over weight, but it just made him scarier. He was six feet tall and loved his leather jacket and jeans almost as much as he liked my when I had a black eye. Let me tell you he liked that black eye part a LOT.
I parked my bike and went to homeroom. I had all my stuff that I needed till lunch in my bag. I always planned it that way. I sat down in the very back row as far from the teacher as I could get. Frowning at the memory of this morning combined with yesterday. I wished so bad it would all just end. Most kids wanted to grow up to be free and be cool. I wanted to grow up to get away from the memories of a rotten childhood.
The bell rang and kids flooded in, traveling in packs. First the cheerleaders, gossiping and giggling. Calele was among them. Then the football jocks. My crush, Joshua Stewart, was the linebacker for the team, so he was with them. Then the chess club. Then the super smart yet still really cool and pretty girls came in. Monique was with them. And so on until Tyler and his gang of torturers came in last.
I noticed the only seats left were the ones surrounding me. Oh. Crap. Tyler made sure to take the one right next to me with a devilish grin on his face. I was already burying my face in my hands. I was dead, so dead. If I was in less than three pieces by the end of class, it’d be a miracle. Tyler slugged me across my shoulder and it hurt like crazy, “Yo, girl. Why ain’t’cha lookin’ outta your hands? Got a problem with me sittin’ here?”
I wanted to say yes but I knew he’d just hurt me more if I did so I stayed silent. He slugged my shoulder again, harder, “I asked you a question.”
“N-n-no,” I stammered rubbing my shoulder. I knew it would be black and purple by lunch.
“Good,” Tyler smirked as he punched me again. This time across the face. Tears welled in my eyes. I wiped my eyes but my face still felt like it was on fire. Why did he have to pick on me? What had I ever done to him? I didn’t think anything.
Class started and I tried to ignore all the times he elbowed my stomach hard enough to make me gag. I tried to focus on my work but he was determined to make me miserable. And to make me hurt all over. Ugh. Today was off to a worse start than usual. I wished I could be anywhere else in the world.
Finally class ended a million sores later. I turned my work in and booked it to math. Sadly, Tyler got to me before I got to class, “Why, you runnin’, punk?”
I was so sick of him picking on me, “Maybe so I can get away from you and your fists of fury!”
He glared at me and slugged me smack in the face. I could already feeling my right swelling. I glared back, “You have no clue what you doing. You have no clue who your hurting.” I turned and ran for the girl’s bathroom. I saw a flicker of guilt or amusement, I couldn’t tell, cross Tyler’s face.
I reached the bathroom and looked in a mirror. My right eye was swollen shut. It was purple and black. I wished that I could have one good day. All I asked for was one good day. I didn’t understand what I was doing so wrong in my life. I grabbed my bag and made it to math.
I sat down in the back, away from Tyler and his gang all sitting by some poor nerdy guy with red hair. Jace, my crush, walked in. He sat by me and asked, “Is your eye ok? I don’t understand why Tyler is always beating you up.” I was stunned. He never talked to me. Maybe my prayers for a good day were finally coming true.
“Ya. Kinda. It hurts really bad though. And my sides are sore and so is my shoulder from math,” I replied. He was gorgeous. Her had messy chocolate brown hair and eyes to match. Today he wore a white t-shirt and gray jeans that tapered a bit at the bottom. He looked like he should be singing at concerts in L.A.
He smiled sadly, “You don’t deserve that.” Could this really be happening? Then I saw all his jock friends on the other side of the room ignoring him. I look him in the eye for a split second and then turned to face my desk, “Yet I get so much more than what he gives me.”
I walked past her silently, fighting tears as usual. I wished I had somehow built up an immunity to her daily insults of stupid, and a demon, and a regret, and a mistake, and the reason my dad avoids us. The reason he let the church. She always said crap like that so offhandedly. So easily. And she smirked at the unshed tears she saw in my eyes, daring me to scream at her and get grounded. She hated me and I couldn’t do a thing about it. “Honor thy father and mother,” was the only reason and hadn’t ran away. The only reason I put up with this bullying. The only reason I ever listened to my mother. I climbed in the passenger seat of the last car in the parking lot. A lime green Mercedes. My mom hated the way it drove and the color and only drove it for looks.
We got home and I went straight to my room. I dropped my stuff and plunged straight into my pillow, burying my face in it’s tear stained softness and cried. It was nothing new but I hated it. I hated how the one place everyone at church should be a mini heaven on Earth was the one place I felt the worst.
I didn’t bother to change. I just lay there hurting at the words my mom had said. After a few hours I cried myself to sleep.

__________________________________________ .o0O0o. _____________________________________________

I woke up the next morning, dreading the day already. My mom was going to give her usual disdain and at school Tyler was going to tease me and pick on me as usual. I’d probably get landed with detention and almost be late to Carrie’s. My usual day. A thought crossed my mind. How many people would leave her alone if they knew what she faced at home?
I dragged myself out of bed honestly hoping to be late for school. I got out and took a super long shower, took my time gelling obvious layers to my hair, and tried on everything in my closet just to find something,
I eventually chose a black spaghetti strap with a black lace top on top and some black jeans. I picked out some black boots to go with. I did my make up dark and heavy.
I went down stairs and poured cereal. Mom was already picking a fight with Dad. I ate quickly. Dad’s anger was one thing I wanted to avoid at all costs. I finished my breakfast as fast as I could and grabbed my bike. I heard my dad yelling as I closed the garage behind me. I biked to school wondering what ingenious knew way of humiliation Tyler would think of today. He was a big burly kid who was technically way over weight, but it just made him scarier. He was six feet tall and loved his leather jacket and jeans almost as much as he liked my when I had a black eye. Let me tell you he liked that black eye part a LOT.
I parked my bike and went to homeroom. I had all my stuff that I needed till lunch in my bag. I always planned it that way. I sat down in the very back row as far from the teacher as I could get. Frowning at the memory of this morning combined with yesterday. I wished so bad it would all just end. Most kids wanted to grow up to be free and be cool. I wanted to grow up to get away from the memories of a rotten childhood.
The bell rang and kids flooded in, traveling in packs. First the cheerleaders, gossiping and giggling. Calele was among them. Then the football jocks. My crush, Joshua Stewart, was the linebacker for the team, so he was with them. Then the chess club. Then the super smart yet still really cool and pretty girls came in.


message 4: by [deleted user] (new)

Monique was with them. And so on until Tyler and his gang of torturers came in last.
I noticed the only seats left were the ones surrounding me. Oh. Crap. Tyler made sure to take the one right next to me with a devilish grin on his face. I was already burying my face in my hands. I was dead, so dead. If I was in less than three pieces by the end of class, it’d be a miracle. Tyler slugged me across my shoulder and it hurt like crazy, “Yo, girl. Why ain’t’cha lookin’ outta your hands? Got a problem with me sittin’ here?”
I wanted to say yes but I knew he’d just hurt me more if I did so I stayed silent. He slugged my shoulder again, harder, “I asked you a question.”
“N-n-no,” I stammered rubbing my shoulder. I knew it would be black and purple by lunch.
“Good,” Tyler smirked as he punched me again. This time across the face. Tears welled in my eyes. I wiped my eyes but my face still felt like it was on fire. Why did he have to pick on me? What had I ever done to him? I didn’t think anything.
Class started and I tried to ignore all the times he elbowed my stomach hard enough to make me gag. I tried to focus on my work but he was determined to make me miserable. And to make me hurt all over. Ugh. Today was off to a worse start than usual. I wished I could be anywhere else in the world.
Finally class ended a million sores later. I turned my work in and booked it to math. Sadly, Tyler got to me before I got to class, “Why, you runnin’, punk?”
I was so sick of him picking on me, “Maybe so I can get away from you and your fists of fury!”
He glared at me and slugged me smack in the face. I could already feeling my right swelling. I glared back, “You have no clue what you doing. You have no clue who your hurting.” I turned and ran for the girl’s bathroom. I saw a flicker of guilt or amusement, I couldn’t tell, cross Tyler’s face.
I reached the bathroom and looked in a mirror. My right eye was swollen shut. It was purple and black. I wished that I could have one good day. All I asked for was one good day. I didn’t understand what I was doing so wrong in my life. I grabbed my bag and made it to math.
I sat down in the back, away from Tyler and his gang all sitting by some poor nerdy guy with red hair. Jace, my crush, walked in. He sat by me and asked, “Is your eye ok? I don’t understand why Tyler is always beating you up.” I was stunned. He never talked to me. Maybe my prayers for a good day were finally coming true.
“Ya. Kinda. It hurts really bad though. And my sides are sore and so is my shoulder from math,” I replied. He was gorgeous. Her had messy chocolate brown hair and eyes to match. Today he wore a white t-shirt and gray jeans that tapered a bit at the bottom. He looked like he should be singing at concerts in L.A.
He smiled sadly, “You don’t deserve to have him pick on you like that.” I was stunned. He was Jace O’Lindel, football champion, sophomore, jock, and guy from my church. Could he honestly like me?
“Yet, he’s the least of my problems,” I looked at his beautiful eyes and noticed black specks in his chocolate brown irises.
He did something I had only seen him do in my dreams. He hugged me close to him. He whispered softly in my ear, “I’m so sorry, Amber. I had no clue.”
“What?” he pulled away with a puzzled expression.
“I thought someone had already told you. I thought you would have known. My mom just called to tell me you might need a ride to Carrie’s cuz your parents split up this morning. I thought you knew,” Jace said sadly. I wasn’t surprise. It had been coming for years, but I still wished it hadn’t happened. I looked away.
“I didn’t. They were fighting when I left for school. It must have happened then. I wish it hadn’t happened though. Home was already messed up enough without this to,” I stared at a stray pen mark on the desk. He was being so nice to me. I wished he had been my friend even before this. I could tell he’d listen to me.
“I’m so sorry, Amber. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you,” He said. I forced a small sad smile.
“Thank you, Jace. I do need a friend right now,” I said. He would listen when I told him everything later. I would tell him cuz I knew he’d listen to me and believe me. The teacher started class and Jace stayed beside me as my friend. No wonder every girl in young women’s liked him.
Soon lunch came around and I bought my lunch and sat at my table in the back of the lunchroom where no one ever sat. I began to eat my lunch and Jace came and sat by me, “Mind if I join you?” He flashed his gorgeous smile of perfect teeth. I smiled back. A real smile. One I never used anymore, “Of course not.”
“You know, Amber, you should smile more. It’s really pretty,” He said as he took a bite of his hamburger. I swear I blushed.
“My mom would have to disagree with you. She thinks I’m a worthless, ugly butt,” I turn my head to the wall to hide the hurt in my eyes.
Jace seems stunned, “She doesn’t actually think that. She hasn’t ever really said it has she?”
I laugh coldly, “Never said it, I wish! Almost ever day she has some form of that. Or she’s insulting my intelligence or my likeability or any other part of me!”
I turn to face him and he obviously doesn’t know what to say. I shake me head and force a small smile, “I’d say I don’t mind anymore but that would be a lie. The closest I can get is I’m used to it. She’s never thought I was good enough to be her child. I’m not pretty enough to show off, or nice enough, or smart enough, or athletic enough, or musical enough to be worth her time. She cares all about how things make her look. She isn’t even close to the same person you see at church when she’s at home.”
Jace hugs me, “It’s ok to cry.” It’s those simple words that make me break down. All 15 years of her insults and Dad’s yelling and school bullies and hurting and hiding came out right then. I wrapped my arms around his neck and cried. He patted my back comfortingly, “It’s ok. It’ll be alright.”
I don’t know how long I sat there crying with my face in his shoulder but we were almost late for our next class. I pulled myself and we ran. We made it with seconds to spare. I sat down and he chose a seat right in front of me. I was glad he was there for me. I was glad he was willing to be my shoulder to cry on. My friend. I smiled.
I went about my classes, getting lots of stares and comments about my black eye. I ignored it. After school I found Jace, “You ready to head to Carrie’s?”
“Sure. Will you need me to pick you up afterwards?” He smiled.
“Probably, ya. Thanks,” I knew Mom was going to blame me for Dad leaving as soon as I got home and I wanted to have a friend there before mom went into a rage.
“Ok. Gimme a call when you’re ready for me to pick you up. I’ll drop your bike off at your house for you,” Jace smiled.
“Thanks, Jace,” I said. I followed him out to his car. It wasn’t the nicest or newest car but it still somehow took my breath away. I guess I was sick of my mom’s always polished, always clean Mercedes. I guess I was sick of her only buying car because the made her look expensive. I guess a smaller, cheaper, less polished car was what I liked because it was the opposite of what she drove.
He opened the passenger’s side door with a flourish and said, “Ladies first.” I laughed and got in. He climbed in the driver’s seat and started the car. I saw Monique climbing into her car. I noticed a single tear run down her cheek. I wondered why. I’d ask her later.
“You ok? You didn’t seem too surprised when I told you your parents were getting divorced even though you didn’t know it yet,” Jace asked.
I sighed. I said a short little prayer asking God for the words to tell him and have him understand. Asking for the courage to spill all my secrets, “I wasn’t. I’d seen it coming for like 10 years. My dad hadn’t known what a jerk my mom really was before they got married. I can tell every time he sees me that he remembers what a mistake he made to marry her. He was always either in the den ignoring us, probably wishing we really weren’t there or yelling at us. Mostly me. Sometimes Mom. When he yelled at Mom it was the worst. It made me cry every time I heard them fight. And they would go on for hours. Part of me always knew Dad would leave us eventually. He regretted marrying Mom and having me. But my mom didn’t care. All she cared was it made her look good enough to have a husband to start with. She only cares about looks. She always hated me because I was nothing special. I was too average for her. She would have pretended I didn’t exist if I hadn’t done something out of the ordinary. That’s why I decided to go light rebel-punk. So I’d be noticed. It was better than being ignored and forgotten. I remember when I was six and she dropped me off at school and forgot me there. She had been out partying so I stayed in the office until 9 at night. My family has always been a mess and a divorce was no surprise, but I wish they would care how all this stuff they do effected me.” I began to cry into my hands and my voice cracked.
Jace frowned. He obviously had no clue what to say. He didn’t look at me, “I had no clue. I’m so sorry, Amber.”
I tried to stop crying but I just couldn’t. It seemed like by telling him I had messed up. I realized what it was. Mom would know he knew because of the change in how he acted around her. Mom would know I had told him she wasn’t as great as she pretended and she would be furious. That was why it felt so wrong. Because I knew that by telling him I was going to get in so much trouble. And trouble meant insults that hurt like knives.


message 5: by [deleted user] (new)

He pulled up in Carrie’s driveway. His face was expressionless. I took a deep breath and sniffled a little. I looked at him, “Thank you.”
“For what?” there was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before. I was taken aback but I didn’t show it.
“For listening to me and being a friend when I needed one,” I said.
He said something I didn’t expect, “You think you have it so bad, Amber, but you don’t even come to the youth activities. Have you ever thought they might help you work all this out? You act like it’s the end of the world having your family, but how about the rest of us? You don’t know our stories. You’re here to help Carrie when her life is falling apart and you’re still absorbed in self pity.”
I was stunned. His words were like knives being stabbed into my chest, “Jace. I just told you all my secrets. I’ve cried everyday of my life over these secrets. I told you because you asked. I know youth activities would probably help me, and I know I never go. I don’t go because I can’t. I’m sorry if you feel I’m being self-centered and I know Carrie has it off a lot worse than I do right now. I’m sorry, Jace.”
He turned towards me, “What makes it so impossible for you to get to youth activities? Everyone else makes it. Or at least the all the other people who are at church most weeks.”
Hot tears began to drip down my cheeks, “I can’t drive and my parents are always fighting. Going downstairs when their fighting is asking for a good slap to the face.”
He stayed silent. I could tell he had been going through something hard lately. I guessed everyone was and God had thrown us together to help us grow. He turned his head and said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. It’s just…” He trailed off.
I gave him a hug, “You don’t have to tell me. I understand. I’m here for you. You’ll be ok.”
He buried his ace in my shoulder and cried. It felt odd; watching him cry like his world was ending. I always saw him as a strong football player, faithful to the church and to God. To see him cry like this was something all together different. It was a side of him I had never imagined existed. I didn’t really want to know what had made him hurt so much, and I could tell he didn’t want to tell.
She saw Monique pull up in the driveway. Jace must have to because he pulled away, “Sorry. See you later. Call me when you’re ready for me to pick you up.”
I gave him a force smile as I got out, “Ok. You’ll be alright, Jace. The world isn’t ending just yet.”
He smiled back, “Thanks, Amber.”
I shut the car door behind me and headed up to the door with Monique. She rang the doorbell and we waited. Carrie came to answer the door, “Hey. What are you guys doing here?”
Monique smiled her warm, caring, always there for you smile, “We noticed you hadn’t been at church lately and wanted to check on you. We missed you and we couldn’t believe that that your parents got separated and your dad lost his job and your brother has cancer. I’m so sorry.”
As I remembered what I found out about my parents this morning it was all I could do not to run away. I swallowed a lump in my throat. Carrie sighed and let us in. We sat down on one couch and she sat across from us, “I starting to wonder if God really does exist. If he did why is all this happening? What did I ever do to deserve this? I thinking I won’t go to church anymore. I feel so alone and I don’t think there’s much church can do to help me.”
Monique stayed silent. I could tell Monique’s faith was screaming at her that everything Carrie had just said was a load of crap, but she didn’t know how to say it without being mean. I did though, “Carrie. I just found out my parents are splitting up. And I know I’m part of the reason they are. My life has been a nightmare of insults and screaming for as long as I can remember. There have been times where I seriously thought of suicide, but I didn’t. There were times I thought about running away and never listening to my parents again. I’ve cried everyday I can remember. The only reason I’m still here to help you right now is the power of God’s commandments. When I wanted to kill myself ‘Thou shalt not kill’ came into my mind every time, no matter how old I was. When I wanted to run away or scream at my parents to leave me forever ‘Thou shall honor thy father and mother’ was there. Carrie. I’ve felt alone and I’ve been insulted on my intelligence, my looks, my personality, everything about me everyday of my life by my own mom. My dad was either ignoring me and my mom or screaming at us. I could tell he regretted marrying Mom and having me every time I looked at him. But there’s one thing I do know. We are never alone. We always have the Holy Spirit within us. That’s who stopped me from running away or killing myself. We always have our father in heaven we can pray to. And we always can look at all Jesus taught us in the scriptures. He suffered our pains; he knows how it feels to cry every night. He knows how it feels to watch your parents tear themselves apart. He knows how it feels to feel alone.”
Monique gaped at me in surprise. I never said anything in church. She probably thought my mom dragged me to church each week. I almost laughed at the irony. Everyone thought my mom had amazing faith when she only went for social reasons; Everyone thought I got dragged to church each week when I hung on every word hoping it would be the week I found where I was messing up in my prayers to save me from my life
Carrie looked puzzled, “Ya know. I never think I’ve heard you say that much to anyone.” She smiled. I laughed and grinned. Monique smiled a little. Carrie stopped and frowned, “But, if God exists, why did he do this to me?”
“For me. I was coming apart inside, waking up knowing today was gonna be a bad day. Good days were a surprise and I hated having to stay home. I needed to realize that some people have it worse than I do. I needed to have enough faith to realize that no matter what happened I was still I daughter of God. This happened to you, so I could learn by helping you regain a testimony. I’m so sorry you got hurt, but in the grand scheme of things, God knows what he’s doing. He’s going to make sure that even through all this, you’re gonna be alright,” I gave Carrie a hug and she began to cry. I guessed my hugs just did that to people. Made them so sad they had to cry. I let her just let it all out. I knew she would be at church next Sunday and this week’s youth activity. I knew I had said the right words and done the right thing. I knew everything was gonna be alright.
She nodded, “Thank you, Amber. Thank you so much.” I wanted to know what I had done for her. God had hurt her to teach me a lesson and grow my testimony. Then it struck me. He chose her so I could grow hers too. I don’t know we stood there with her crying, but when she pulled away Monique had already left. I smiled and said, “I better get home. My mom is probably needing someone to blame for my dad leaving.” I’d check up on Monique later. Carrie nodded and I called Jace on my cell phone. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, Amber. I tried to drop your bike off at your house but your mom screamed at me saying you weren’t going to stay under her roof, so your bike’s with me until we can find where your dad is. Amber, what the heck were they fighting about?” Jace asked.
I couldn’t believe it. What had I ever done to her?! “I don’t know. I think I may have had a part in it. I don’t know. I try to avoid the house when the scream-off starts.” I went outside. It was getting a little too personal to talk about inside.
“I get it. Do you have any idea where your dad would go?” Jace asked calmly.
I started to cry. I knew the answer and I couldn’t say it. It would mean I had nowhere to go, “Anywhere away from me and my mom.”
I saw Jace pull up the driveway. He hung up and I followed. He got out and hugged me close. I sobbed. Then I heard another car pull up. My dad’s. He got out and saw me with Jace, “Ahem.”
Jace pulled away. I looked down, holding back my tears. Then Dad did something I had never expected to ever happen. He pulled me into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Amber. So, so, so sorry. I’ve been so mean. So wrong. I’m so sorry, Amber,” he whispered. I hugged him back. I was so happy. He cared. He was speaking to me and not yelling.
“It’s ok, Dad. It’s all ok,” I held onto him. God could work his miracles in some of the strangest ways. But they will always be miracles.

___________________________________________ .o0O0o. ________________________________________

“Jesus answered them and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Ye seek me, anot because ye saw the miracles, but because ye did eat of the loaves, and were filled.”

John 6:26


message 6: by Ruzina, RANdomATor (new)

Ruzina (usershow5549736-rose) | 2223 comments Mod
Love this story CICI!!!!

Fave characters: Amber and Jace!

Not so FAVE: Those horrid kid at school!


message 7: by [deleted user] (new)

tyler?


message 8: by Ruzina, RANdomATor (new)

Ruzina (usershow5549736-rose) | 2223 comments Mod
Yeah i think :D


message 9: by [deleted user] (new)

ya. tyler was meant to be a big fat jerk. jace i wanted as more of a best friend guy who could POTENTIALLY become a boyfriend, not in this story though. and amber is the girl that i thought would be a really good strong faithful christian but a painful past and doesnt look like a girl who would be a good girl. Monique is that good christian girl raised in the church and has a pretty much perfect life. i tried to make them all unique and have secrets like normal people. i think ill start on my story for the writing contest.


message 10: by Eve (new)

Eve Ainsworth | 4 comments Hi Guys

This is the blurb for my YA novel. Not sure if it's okay to put here, but would be great to hear your views. ;o)

My name is Maisy Malone. I’m seventeen years old, live in a ratty council house with my 60 year old, near-alcoholic Dad and a dog with a leaky bum.
This is my blog. You can either like it, or you can…well… blog off!! ;o)

Maisy is seventeen and has reason to be seriously fed up. Her Dad spends his days stagnating in his armchair, watching re-runs of Bargain Hunt, shouting abuse at their neurotic dog, Dave, or nursing his pint down at the Pride. Her mum fled the place years ago, on the back of a clapped-out, old bike, and is now planning the wedding of the year, to a man so damp you could grow mushrooms on him. Even her mates are distracted these days; Poppy is to be found rattling out her vampire love story and Jess is too busy obsessing over the latest bad boy to cross her path.

Trouble is, her latest conquest is Maisy’s detested older brother, Ollie – recently returned to the family home. But what secret is he hiding?

And now Maisy has dropped out of sixth form in an attempt to bring some money into the family home. But will a range of eye-opening, temporary assignments provide Maisy the freedom she is searching for?
Or is home always where the heart is?


Amber (the smiling cupcake) (ambercyan) | 1177 comments Sounds great :-)


message 12: by Eve (new)

Eve Ainsworth | 4 comments Thank you Amber ;o)


message 13: by Ruzina, RANdomATor (new)

Ruzina (usershow5549736-rose) | 2223 comments Mod
Nice Eve :D XD


message 14: by B L Jones (new)

B L Jones (bljonesbooks) | 9 comments Demonic and Angelic

Rory Wild is the first half Angel and half Demon child.

In a society where Angels are in charge and Demons rule the dangerous underworld of the cities, being part of two very different races is not at all easy for 17 year old Rory.

Humans are nothing but slaves to Angels. Angels have the ability to invade your mind and destroy it, create memories or kill.

Rory is treated with distrust by the Angels and unwittingly entices the Demons. She has both the mystical beauty of an angel and the cunning of Demon.

Her sharp wit and fierce nature gets her into trouble with the Angels when she openly suggests that humans should be treated equally.

Rory is sent to a special containment centre for troubled Angels, she meets an angel boy named Cas, he believes in an equal society free of Angel dictatorship.

Rory plans to escape with Cas, but then the prison is broken into by a group of Demon resistance fighters. They rescue Rory (Cas escapes with other Angles in the prison).

The leader of the resistance fighters is named Damien. He believes she is important to the revolution. Rory is trained to fight and use her demon powers over Fire and persuasion. But then she hers an old friend is in danger and she deserts the resistance to save him from the Angels wraith.


message 15: by B L Jones (new)

B L Jones (bljonesbooks) | 9 comments Demonic and Angelic

21st October 2012

‘Rory get up you lazy bitch’ Echo Amiel shouts in my ear. I look up from my bed to see her already dressed and just oozing a crap load self importance already. That’s the worst part about group homes, I lie, there are about a thousand shitty things about group homes, but sharing a room with someone you barely know and who also can’t stand you is definitely ONE of the worst. I watch as Echo flicks her fringe in front of the mirror and then brushes her long almost white hair for what I’m guessing is the millionth time this morning. She steps back and inspects herself in the mirror. I honestly don’t know why she bothers it’s not as if she’ll ever look bad, not unless she’s in some kind of terrible accident. Did I sound hopeful then? No, I don’t want Echo Amiel to be scarred physically beyond repair…but I would like to punch her in the face……again. With her perfectly glossy hair, her slim curvy body, creamy smooth skin and wide light blue eyes, she’s gorgeous. All Angels are undeniably stunning and beautiful, no matter how old they are or how powerful, even the lowest ranking Angel would never be mistaken for human. I mean, the wings can kind of give it away obviously, but that isn’t my point.

My point is that it’s too damn early for me to have to watch a girl as up herself as Echo Amiel dither around worrying about how perfect her hair is compared to all the other twits like her at school. I’m not saying caring about how you look makes you an airhead bitch, because it doesn’t, it just particularly grates on me when people like Echo, who ARE airhead bitches, flit around in front of me when I’m already cranky from staying up almost all night to do a piece of coursework. Echo has finished primping and turns to me with what seems to be a permanent sneer on her face, she says ‘get up halfy your late, unless your finally ready to admit you don’t belong with us, you belong with THEM’, by ‘’them’’ she means the Demons.

Yeah…see the thing is I’m not an Angel, I’m not a Demon either actually, I’m both, my mother was an Angel and my father was a Demon. Apparently I’m the first ever half Demon and half Angel, aren’t I so freaking special, more like a mistake thrust upon society according to the Angels. I’m still not entirely sure how the Demons feel about me, all of the ones I’ve met, which isn’t actually that many, they tend to stay in the darker more hidden parts of the city, look at me like they want to either fuck me or kill me. Demons don’t have wings, but they’re definitely not human by a long shot. They aren’t beautiful in the same way that Angels are, but I’ve never heard them being described as ugly. All of the ones I’ve met have been sexy as hell; they are well known for their seductions. The only reason there haven’t been more children like me is because there is apparently something in both races genetics that usually makes them incompatible, therefore unable to have children. So really I’m a whole new kind of freak. Not that Demons and Angels want to have children together; for the most part Demons and Angels hate each other. The two races are so different it’s not exactly a surprise. Angels think that Demons are dangerous and evil, Demons think that Angels…well I don’t really know, they think Angels have too much power I suppose. Angels rule the world, they are the government; the Angels head council control everything. That’s what I’ve been taught since birth, what all Angels are taught, that Angels are amazing and all powerful, and anything that isn’t an Angel doesn’t have a place in their society. I always knew, even though I’m technically a part of their society, that I will never be viewed as an equal.

I sit up purposely slowly, just to annoy Echo and raise one eyebrow, I say as seriously as I can manage, some sarcasm still coming through ‘does that mean I’m not invited to the Angels only party this weekend Echo?, oh fucking hell how ever shall I go on without time wasted talking about hair brushing techniques and who the hottest Angel male is’. Just for the record, the answer to that last one is ALLL OF THEM, male Angels are just as gorgeous as the females, ridiculously so in fact. Echo’s eyes slit and she storms surprisingly gracefully out of the room. I roll my eyes at her over dramatics and finally force myself to get up. I look over at Echo’s pink clock, it’s fluffy too and it has the words ‘’Hot stuff’’ written onto the face of it, bleegh, the bitch is right though, I am late. I pull off the top I wore to bed and change into new underwear; I grab a black vest top, a pair of dark denim shorts, my fish net tights and my black army boots. It takes me five minutes to get dressed and brush my teeth. I flip my hair forward and run my fingers through it, not bothering with a brush. I stand up straight and take a quick look in the same mirror Echo just used. All Angels have light eyes, pretty much always just different shades of blue and light hair, again just loads of different shades of blonde. Even the Angels with very dark skin still have light eyes and hair. That’s one thing that makes me stand out a lot; my hair is long, kind of curly at the ends and raven black with gold tinges on the tips. My eyes are very dark blue with gold flecks. They match my wings; Angel’s wings are either white, silver or gold, mine are black with a golden feather outline. I won’t lie, yes my body is perfectly toned and I’m tall, AND YES my skin is perfectly smooth, but I also have this sort of angular look to face which makes it look less soft and more…well, like a Demon’s. My friend Xander says it makes me look dangerous in a sexy way, but to me it’s just another thing that separates me from everyone else. I don’t hate being different, I wouldn’t want to be anyone else but myself. I just don’t like the way some of the Angels look at me, like they think they’re better than me, for no other reason than because of who I was born as. I don’t like to moan about those sorts of things to Xander though; I know he’d give anything to be even just tolerated by Angels. Xander is human and in the Angles society humans are nothing more than servants to most Angels. I met Xander because he works as a gardener at the local cemetery. That’s a long story and it’s not as creepy as it probably sounds, the word cemetery doesn’t exactly create happy images I know, but Xander is the only person in my life I’ve ever considered family.

I take one last look at myself and I sigh heavily. All Angels, including me, have the ability to make our wings appear and disappear at will, and no not in the magician pulling a bunny out of frigging hat trick sort of way. It’s because our wings are less of a physical thing and more of a creation using our mind, yes they are real and they can be touched and used to fly with. We just get to choose when we want them and when we don’t, I’m not exactly sure how it works but it does. The Angels Council say that it’s because our minds are so superior. But for me it’s like having an extra limb when I choose to have them out on display, they’re just part of who I am. Even when they can’t be seen I can still feel the pressure on my back where they should be.

Grabbing my bag and leather jacket I run out of the room that has been my home for the last three years of my life. Before that I lived in various group homes all over the city and in other cities as well. I could never seem to settle, and I’ve never had a foster home, the reason was clear; nobody wants the half Demon girl. They think I’m trouble, I guess the best thing you could do is to lay low in a situation like mine, but that’s never been the type of person I am. I say what I think and I’m not afraid to fight back if I need to, and in care you bloody well need to. I get into a lot of trouble for it all with the Angels, but screw them if they think they can turn me into one of their obedient robots, I’d rather die, dramatic I know but it’s true. Submissive just isn’t my style. Better to go out with a bang than live forever as a unlit firework.

I rush past the slashed up wallpaper by the stairs and almost trip over my own feet running down them, unlike Echo I’m not graceful in the slightest. The home I live in is pretty clean compared to some of the ones I’ve been in over the last 17 years of my life. My last home’s ceiling was so full of rot it was actually dipping. I had to move out when a lot of it collapsed; what a fun Saturday night that had been, trying to get together enough of my stuff before the ceiling in the room id been staying in fell all the way. Then again one of the women who ran the home had fallen through from the second floor and got stuck, I know it’s terrible to think that way but the woman had said to me that she thought it might be better if I stayed away from the other children in the house because of my ‘other nature’, meaning my Demon side. I had wanted to hit her so hard that day, but I hadn’t because my social worker had warned me that if I didn’t start at least giving it go then I would be taken away to the Containment centre for troubled Angels, which is just a fancy way of saying high security prison for anyone who the Angels think don’t behave in the ‘correct’ way. I don’t bother with breakfast, and I definitely don’t stop when one of the social workers calls out my name from the kitchen. Whatever she wants will have to wait. Most of the time if I was really late I would just skip altogether and go help out Xander at the cemetery. But my social worker had started to notice how much time I was missing, the school usually didn’t bother reporting when I don’t come in, they don’t give shit, at least not when it comes to me. I guess they hope the Demons will snatch me away, or kill me, either way……

It’s not that I hate school, in fact I love reading more than almost anything else, I’m always borrowing loads of books from the library, mostly fiction but still. I just don’t like the way everything seems to revolve around how important the Angel council is, how powerful, how mother effing amazing blah blah blah. I’ve definitely missed the bus but if I’m fast I might just catch the train into the centre of town where my school is.

I run as fast as I can down the street, it’s quite empty down where I live because its close to the Demon parts of the city, not that I see a lot of them. I guess they are more night people, the law states that Demons can only be killed by the Angel Enforcers if they are breaking another law of the Angels society, which includes having ‘inappropriate relationships’ with Angels, but most of the Enforcers kill any Demon on sight. Everyone knows the Enforcers do this but none of the Angels seem to care, so I don’t blame the Demons for keeping a low profile. Angels are incredibly powerful beings, they have the ability to invade your mind and destroy it, create memories, the most powerful Angles can even kill you with a single thought, it is rumoured that you can build up walls to protect your mind from the Angels but nobody is quite sure how, except apparently the Demons. Demons have powers of their own as well, they can control fire and they are much faster and stronger physically than any human or Angel. Because I am both part Demon and Angel, I have al of those powers, I would never admit it to the Angels, but I think my powers are really strong and that I may be more powerful than id ever even want to be. Don’t get me wrong, having the ability to fight back and defend myself is always a good thing, but if the Angels ever found out just how powerful I am they would send me straight to that damn hell hole containment centre. I don’t know exactly what they do to the Angels that get sent there, but the ‘troubled’ Angels never come back, I’m sure of that. That’s reason enough for me, just the thought of being ‘contained’ makes me want to break something; I don’t do well when I feel trapped.


message 16: by Lauren (new)

Lauren BridieJ*mentaltastic*dragon-Ducks are EVIL ;) x wrote: "Demonic and Angelic

21st October 2012

‘Rory get up you lazy bitch’ Echo Amiel shouts in my ear. I look up from my bed to see her already dressed and just oozing a crap load self importance alread..."


i only just realised no-one had said anything about your story :-(

Its good by the way :-) xxxxx


message 17: by [deleted user] (last edited Feb 24, 2013 02:22PM) (new)

This story is a fan fiction. It's not done, but if you have any ideas on where I should go form here just let me know and I will take it into consideration.



Before I begin I would just like to say that I own nothing. I would like to thank Stephanie Meyer for giving me the idea for this fan fiction, and Christina Perri for writing the song that inspired this fan fiction.

A Thousand Years

Intro

Hey, my name is Edward, and this is my story. I never thought that I would one day find the love of my life. I lived in a family with six other people, and I often felt like the seventh wheel to them. I thought I found love once, but it wasn't meant to be. I thought I would be alone forever until Alice had a vision that changed my life forever.

Chapter 1: The Day We Met

It was a typical rainy day in Portland, and I had just came home from work, and was feeling very tried.
"Hey," Alice said as I come through the door.
"Hey," I replied hanging up my coat.
"So I was thinking you and I should do something tonight", Alice smiled.
"I'm not in the mood", I answered going up the stairs to my room. I wasn't really in the mood for a lot of things lately.
"What's your problem lately? You don't seem to want to do anything fun anymore", Alice said following him up the stairs.
"I'm just not in the mood," I snapped shutting the door in my sister's face. I really hated how pushing she could be sometimes, but I still loved her. I just never had the time to do all the things she wanted me to do. After a long day of work the last thing I wanted to do was go out. The office put too many cases on my plate for me to go out. Sometimes I had to bring work home with, which made Alice very mad.
The next day at work was just like any other day. My boss would give me two new cases to work on, but I never had time for them because I was always working on the ones from the day before. I really didn't enjoy my job, but I had to pay the bills somehow.
After work I was on my way home when I got a strange call from Alice. I didn't quite understand what she wanted when she called, but I answered anyway.
"Edward, I know you just got off work. But you need to come to the hospital right now," she said nearly crying.
"Why, Alice, what's wrong?" I asked. I was really confused has to why Alice was calling me.
"Esme's in the hospital, and she's hurt really bad," she replied sobbing.
"Oh my word, what happen", I asked nearly sobbing myself.
"She was home alone, like aways, when someone broke in the house, and stabbed her in the stomach six time," Alice replied crying."
"Oh my word. Okay I'm on my way", I answered hanging up the phone.
I then drove as fast as I could to the hospital. I just couldn't believe that something like this would happen to Esme. Of all the people in the world it had to be my mother. When I got to the hospital I found Alice in the waiting room crying.
"How is she?", I asked hugging her.
"Not very good, but they said she would live. Lucky the stab wounds didn't hit any of her organs," she said nearly in tears again.
"Oh, Alice, it's going to be okay," I reassured her. Just as I helped her sit down Jasper came walking into the waiting room.
"How is she?", Jasper asked coming to sit by Alice. Alice leaded into him letting her tears stain his shirt.
"Esme has six stab wounds, and none of them touched her organs. She's in bad shape, but the doctor says she'll live", I said reassuring him.
"Well, that's good," he replied hugging Alice tightly, and kissing her forehead. "Hey, I'll stay here with Alice if you want to go home. You look like you could use some sleep."
"That's very nice of you. I have been meaning to catch up on sleep, and would love to go home," I respond.
"And you should," he added patting me on the back.
"I'll see you later,"I said getting up and heading home. I really didn't want to leave them, but I was very tired and need to go home.
When I was on my way out to my car that's when I saw her. She was so beautiful with her brown hair, and deep brown eyes. It was all I could do to look away. I wanted so badly to know her name, but I knew now was no to time. So I would have to wait until I saw her again.
On the way home I couldn't get her out of my head. I didn't even know her, and she was clouding my every thought. I wanted so badly to turn around and go talk to her, but I had idea what to say to her. For the first time in my life I woman has made me speechless.
That night it was hard to sleep. What with Esme in the hospital, and my every thought on the girl, sleeping was impossible. I woke much tired than when I went to bed. With my lack of sleep, today was going to be even harder. I just hope I can make it through okay. By the time lunch came around, I was exotic to leaved work. While on my lunch break I saw her again, and this time I made our paths cross. She was eating lunch in a small cafe when I saw her so I went inside.
"I'm so sorry," she said when I bumped into her. Her voice was so beautiful it made me freeze still for a moment.
"It's okay, I'm Edward," I said politely.
"I'm Bella, care to join me?", she asked.
"I'd love to," I respond cheerfully as I sat down. "I saw you the other day, but I was a little scared to say hi to you."
"Oh, don't be. It would have been lovely to meet you then," she said cheerful.
"Yes, it would have," I answered.
The rest of our lunch carried on like this. When I went back to work I couldn't focus because she was all I could think about. It was like my every thought was about her. From the way she looked to the way she acted. Everything was about her. It was like my whole world had turn upside down in just a matter of minutes, and she became my everything. I just hope she feels the same way I do.


Chapter 2: Hearts Beats Fast

The next day I thought I would go see how Esme was doing at the hospital. When I got there Emmett and Rosalie where in the room with her.
"How's she doing today?", I asked coming to stand next to them.
"Better, I guess. She's been in a coma for quite awhile," Emmett responded holding onto Rosalie.
"Mom, I love you. Please wake up," I replied moving to her side, and taking her hand. She looked so fragile laying there.
"It'll be okay," Emmett said patting me on the back.
"How do you know that?", I asked.
"I don't, but I have faith. I'm just as worried about her as you are, but I know the doctors will take good care of her," he answered trying to calm me down.
"Yeah, I know. It's just hard to believe that that's our mother lying there," I said siting on the bed next to Esme.
"It's hard for me to believe it too," Rosalie cried, choking on her works.
"It's going to be okay," Emmett soothed kissing her forehead.
It was quite for awhile. We were all just too worried to talk. A little while later I decided it was best I go home. It had been a long day, and I was in the need for some sleep. When I got home I went and took a hot shower to relax. Then in my room I lied on my bed relaxing until I fell asleep. I must have been really tired because my alarm went off for about five minutes before I even got up.
Work the next day was terrible. My boss thought it would be fun to pile up my work load so I had to stay late. When I finally got to leave work I saw her again. She was getting into her car, but didn't notice me the way I noticed her. She looked so beautiful it was breathe taking. On my way home my every thought was on her again. It was like every time I saw her my thought were about her.
"I really hope to talk to her again," I thought has I walked into the house. When I got inside I went straight to my room. I was too tried to do anything else, and I didn't want to run into Alice again. But to my surprise, there was Alice in my room siting on my bed.
"What do you want, Alice?", I asked setting my stuff by the door.
"Am I not aloud to talk to my bother, or is that illegal?", she questioned.
"Alice, I'm not in the mood for any of your games."
"You're never in the mood, and I hate seeing you sit around here wasting your life away."
"I appreciate your concern, but what I do with my life is none of your business."
"Edward, I'm just trying to help."
"Maybe I don't want your help. I'm a grown man. I don't need my little sister trying to take care of me. I love you, but you can be a bit much sometimes."
"Well, if you did something with our life I wouldn't have to be this way."
"It's hard to do anything when you have me living under a microscope."
"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said softly.
"It's okay," I responded coming to sit next to her. "If you want we can go do something Saturday night if you wish."
"Really!? You'd do that for me?", she asked.
"Anything to make you happy," I smiled.
"Edward, you're the best," Alice exclaimed hugging me around the neck, "I'll go start planning. Oh, Edward, this is going to be so much fun."
"I sure hope so," I said as she left the room.


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