"Honey, do toi feel guilty for what your parents did?" Dr. Bellamont asked. We were in the middle of a session that I was being forced to participate in. I shrugged. "I think toi do," she a dit quietly. I clenched my hands into fists. It made me mad that she assumed that. It also made me mad that she was also kind of right.
Dr. Bellamont went on for a while, saying about how it wasn't my fault for what my parents did. After a couple minutes I got sick of listening to her and blocked everything out. She sighed.
"Hecate? Are toi even listening?" she asked. I nodded, and she raised an eyebrow. I pursed my lips, and then finally gave up and shook my head. "I think it would be good for toi to put yourself out there more. rejoindre a club. Volunteer somewhere. Do something," she explained. I folded my hands and ducked my head. Even the thought of "putting myself out there" got my cœur, coeur racing. I wasn't sure that'd work.
After our session, Dr. Bellamont explained her idea to Mrs. Stueck.
"Oh, that's a wonderful idea!" she a dit excitedly. I frowned. This was not working out. Throughout the whole car ride, Mrs. Stueck went on with ideas for what I could do. She suggested I tried out for cheerleading. That was out of the question. débats club? That makes no sense to me.
"What about art club?" Mr. Stueck suggested when we got home.
"You'd be great at that," Amica smiled. I fiddled with my sleeves uncomfortably.
"You should do that tomorrow," Mrs. Stueck said. The tone in her voice a dit I didn't have a choice. I sighed and went up to my room.
***
The suivant jour after school, I went to the art room. A couple kids were still there, for art club I assumed. The place was nearly empty.
"Hello," a dit Ms. Morreno, the art teacher. "Are toi here to rejoindre art club? We're always open for new members," she a dit warmly. I stood there for a while, then had to remind myself to nod. "Well just take a siège and get started. We like to review what everyone is doing afterwards. But don't worry, it doesn't matter what it turns out like. Art is art." I nodded my head once in gratitude, then took my seat.
I was sure to sit par myself at a table. I felt kind of guilty; I was supposed to be doing this to open up more. Still, it gave me a little piece of mind to be par myself. I didn't feel like anyone was staring at me... as much. I noticed a couple kids looking my way. I glanced up at them just for a moment, and they looked away real fast, stifling giggles. Others kept their stare, looking very angry.
"Murderer," I heard someone whisper.
"I wish this state allowed the death sentence," another grumbled. My face felt like it was on fire, and I tried to focus on my drawing, but I couldn't. I got up and went to the supplies table, to get an eraser. I was gone for just a minute. When I came back, written on my paper was written in thick black ink: "GO TO HELL." I stopped, with my mouth hanging open. They started to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Ms. Morreno asked, as if she wanted to get in on the fun. The laughing stopped, and then she became suspicious. She looked at me. I shook my head, and quickly crumpled the paper and pushed it aside on my desk.
I got a new sheet of paper and started to redraw my sketch. Something hit me. Something small. I moved my hand up, and ran it through my hair. A small wad of paper fell into my fingers. plus giggles. My face flushed, and my eyes were starting to sting. They threw plus paper at me, and I squeezed my eyes shut. A couple minutes later, I couldn't take it anymore.
I left the art room, tears streaming down my face.
"Hecate?" Ms. Morreno called after me. I ignored her and ran faster. I ended up at a park, halfway between the Stuecks' and school. I sat at the bench, and covered my eyes with my hands, and cried. I felt so silly for crying over this. But still, even though it wasn't a big deal, it made me feel plus alienated than I usually did. It was humiliating.
And I couldn't win.
There's never winning with bullying like this. They find humor out of your frustration, and your obliviousness.
"Hecate?" a voice asked. I looked up through my tears. It was Axel. I sniffed, and waved shyly at him. He scooped up his skateboard in his hand, and came over and sat par me. A couple other guys stood off to the side, looking confused. I knew they must be from school, but they never hung around us. "Hecate, what's wrong? Are toi ok?" he asked. I wiped my tears with my sleeve and nodded. "Come on, why don't I take toi home." He put his arm around me, and we stood up.
He walked me home, which I couldn't help but be thankful for.
"You sure you're alright?" he asked. I nodded, and took a deep breath.
"Thanks," I a dit barely. My voice was even less than a whisper. But he heard it, and smiled.
"No problem," he said. He leaned over and hugged me tight. Just like I had been when Mrs. Stueck had, I was overly stunned and immobilized. Then, with my arms shaking, I reached up and hugged him back. It was weird. I'd never understood why people hugged. It always seemed like an odd gesture to me. But now I did understand. The warmth seemed to radiate through me, and even though it was just for a second, my worries seemed to disperse. Then he let go and smiled. "See ya at school tomorrow." He waved, and then he was off.
"How'd art club go?" Mr. Stueck asked when I came inside. I sighed and shook my head, with a look that said, toi do not want to know. He frowned. "Well, there's always other things toi could try."
***
We came to a place called Feed My Starving Children.
They had us start preparing meals. I understood that it fed the poor, but I didn't understand to what extent. We made meals for a little over an hour, then it was break time. I went to the front desk, where they had posters and statistics.
"10 million people are at risk of starvation in Somalia, Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan and South Sudan..." It felt like I just got kicked in the stomach. I knew there were homeless people dying from starvation on the streets, but there were whole countries dying from hunger. Tears flooded to my eyes as I looked at the pictures. Poor little children, whose ribs were clearly visible. Most of them were orphans, trying to find nourriture for themselves. Others' parents had no way of feeding their children, and were forced to watch their kids die. And it was happening in plus than seventy countries around the world.
I was able to get through the day, making nourriture packages for kids dying of starvation. But when we got back in the car, I just Lost it. Mrs. Stueck stared at me, startled, while I cried.
"Honey? What's wrong? toi did a good thing today!" she tried to explain. I felt good about helping those children. But seeing all this made me mad. How could anyone let this happen? Why couldn't someone end this completely?
When we got home, Mr. Stueck decided maybe Feed My Starving Children wasn't for me.
"No!" I whimpered. Sure, it made me feel terrible to have everything I could need, and not be satisfied with it, but at least I was trying to do something. They stared at me, shocked.
"You want to do it again?" he asked. I nodded real fast. "Um... ok..."
I continued volunteering at Feed My Starving Children. I didn't cry afterwards anymore. It still saddened me, but I was able to handle it better. It felt good to know I was helping someone, instead of hurting them.
Dr. Bellamont went on for a while, saying about how it wasn't my fault for what my parents did. After a couple minutes I got sick of listening to her and blocked everything out. She sighed.
"Hecate? Are toi even listening?" she asked. I nodded, and she raised an eyebrow. I pursed my lips, and then finally gave up and shook my head. "I think it would be good for toi to put yourself out there more. rejoindre a club. Volunteer somewhere. Do something," she explained. I folded my hands and ducked my head. Even the thought of "putting myself out there" got my cœur, coeur racing. I wasn't sure that'd work.
After our session, Dr. Bellamont explained her idea to Mrs. Stueck.
"Oh, that's a wonderful idea!" she a dit excitedly. I frowned. This was not working out. Throughout the whole car ride, Mrs. Stueck went on with ideas for what I could do. She suggested I tried out for cheerleading. That was out of the question. débats club? That makes no sense to me.
"What about art club?" Mr. Stueck suggested when we got home.
"You'd be great at that," Amica smiled. I fiddled with my sleeves uncomfortably.
"You should do that tomorrow," Mrs. Stueck said. The tone in her voice a dit I didn't have a choice. I sighed and went up to my room.
***
The suivant jour after school, I went to the art room. A couple kids were still there, for art club I assumed. The place was nearly empty.
"Hello," a dit Ms. Morreno, the art teacher. "Are toi here to rejoindre art club? We're always open for new members," she a dit warmly. I stood there for a while, then had to remind myself to nod. "Well just take a siège and get started. We like to review what everyone is doing afterwards. But don't worry, it doesn't matter what it turns out like. Art is art." I nodded my head once in gratitude, then took my seat.
I was sure to sit par myself at a table. I felt kind of guilty; I was supposed to be doing this to open up more. Still, it gave me a little piece of mind to be par myself. I didn't feel like anyone was staring at me... as much. I noticed a couple kids looking my way. I glanced up at them just for a moment, and they looked away real fast, stifling giggles. Others kept their stare, looking very angry.
"Murderer," I heard someone whisper.
"I wish this state allowed the death sentence," another grumbled. My face felt like it was on fire, and I tried to focus on my drawing, but I couldn't. I got up and went to the supplies table, to get an eraser. I was gone for just a minute. When I came back, written on my paper was written in thick black ink: "GO TO HELL." I stopped, with my mouth hanging open. They started to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Ms. Morreno asked, as if she wanted to get in on the fun. The laughing stopped, and then she became suspicious. She looked at me. I shook my head, and quickly crumpled the paper and pushed it aside on my desk.
I got a new sheet of paper and started to redraw my sketch. Something hit me. Something small. I moved my hand up, and ran it through my hair. A small wad of paper fell into my fingers. plus giggles. My face flushed, and my eyes were starting to sting. They threw plus paper at me, and I squeezed my eyes shut. A couple minutes later, I couldn't take it anymore.
I left the art room, tears streaming down my face.
"Hecate?" Ms. Morreno called after me. I ignored her and ran faster. I ended up at a park, halfway between the Stuecks' and school. I sat at the bench, and covered my eyes with my hands, and cried. I felt so silly for crying over this. But still, even though it wasn't a big deal, it made me feel plus alienated than I usually did. It was humiliating.
And I couldn't win.
There's never winning with bullying like this. They find humor out of your frustration, and your obliviousness.
"Hecate?" a voice asked. I looked up through my tears. It was Axel. I sniffed, and waved shyly at him. He scooped up his skateboard in his hand, and came over and sat par me. A couple other guys stood off to the side, looking confused. I knew they must be from school, but they never hung around us. "Hecate, what's wrong? Are toi ok?" he asked. I wiped my tears with my sleeve and nodded. "Come on, why don't I take toi home." He put his arm around me, and we stood up.
He walked me home, which I couldn't help but be thankful for.
"You sure you're alright?" he asked. I nodded, and took a deep breath.
"Thanks," I a dit barely. My voice was even less than a whisper. But he heard it, and smiled.
"No problem," he said. He leaned over and hugged me tight. Just like I had been when Mrs. Stueck had, I was overly stunned and immobilized. Then, with my arms shaking, I reached up and hugged him back. It was weird. I'd never understood why people hugged. It always seemed like an odd gesture to me. But now I did understand. The warmth seemed to radiate through me, and even though it was just for a second, my worries seemed to disperse. Then he let go and smiled. "See ya at school tomorrow." He waved, and then he was off.
"How'd art club go?" Mr. Stueck asked when I came inside. I sighed and shook my head, with a look that said, toi do not want to know. He frowned. "Well, there's always other things toi could try."
***
We came to a place called Feed My Starving Children.
They had us start preparing meals. I understood that it fed the poor, but I didn't understand to what extent. We made meals for a little over an hour, then it was break time. I went to the front desk, where they had posters and statistics.
"10 million people are at risk of starvation in Somalia, Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan and South Sudan..." It felt like I just got kicked in the stomach. I knew there were homeless people dying from starvation on the streets, but there were whole countries dying from hunger. Tears flooded to my eyes as I looked at the pictures. Poor little children, whose ribs were clearly visible. Most of them were orphans, trying to find nourriture for themselves. Others' parents had no way of feeding their children, and were forced to watch their kids die. And it was happening in plus than seventy countries around the world.
I was able to get through the day, making nourriture packages for kids dying of starvation. But when we got back in the car, I just Lost it. Mrs. Stueck stared at me, startled, while I cried.
"Honey? What's wrong? toi did a good thing today!" she tried to explain. I felt good about helping those children. But seeing all this made me mad. How could anyone let this happen? Why couldn't someone end this completely?
When we got home, Mr. Stueck decided maybe Feed My Starving Children wasn't for me.
"No!" I whimpered. Sure, it made me feel terrible to have everything I could need, and not be satisfied with it, but at least I was trying to do something. They stared at me, shocked.
"You want to do it again?" he asked. I nodded real fast. "Um... ok..."
I continued volunteering at Feed My Starving Children. I didn't cry afterwards anymore. It still saddened me, but I was able to handle it better. It felt good to know I was helping someone, instead of hurting them.
Jade Adams was making her way accueil when she saw him. The dark haired kid everyone had been talking about earlier today was walking in the same direction she was. "Hey! You're the new kid in school right?" "Hn?" The boy turned around to face Jade, making her cœur, coeur skip a beat. He had to be one of the most strikingly beautiful people she had ever seen. He was pale, with onyx colored eyes, and jet black hair that hung over his eyes slightly. "H-hi. I'm Jade..." the poor girl was at a loss for words when he flashed his dazzling smile at her. "Hey, I'm Victor." She blushed slightly and readjusted her Slipknot tee over her black skinny jeans. "Soo... what road do toi turn onto to get home?" "I turn onto Salem road, what about you?" Victor looked over at her again, scratching his head awkwardly. "Me too! Wanna walk accueil together?" "Sure!" The blonde girl started walking ahead, leaving Victor o follow. "So, how do toi like it here?"
Memories,
Confusion,
So many thoughts,
The end is near,
The darkness coming,
Now its here,
The montrer is over,
The lights are off,
We now say goodnight,
Goodbye,
As we begin 2 open the new chapter
It hurts at first,
Will the changes be extreme?
Please, just tell me,
This was only a dream,
I want to go back,
To relive this again,
This high point in life,
It can't end.
The stage lights dimmed,
The leaving spoke,
With happy faces on,
But tears in their eyes,
This montrer is over,
Now go home.
Confusion,
So many thoughts,
The end is near,
The darkness coming,
Now its here,
The montrer is over,
The lights are off,
We now say goodnight,
Goodbye,
As we begin 2 open the new chapter
It hurts at first,
Will the changes be extreme?
Please, just tell me,
This was only a dream,
I want to go back,
To relive this again,
This high point in life,
It can't end.
The stage lights dimmed,
The leaving spoke,
With happy faces on,
But tears in their eyes,
This montrer is over,
Now go home.
She fell to the floor and wept, and the jar shook
The jour ended on a cold note for the cold night
He had her cœur, coeur sealed in a jar, fragile and trapped
Until he had his moment and let go
With little strength, she had saved it and ran
She had ran until the darkness was unbearable,
As she wept, the jar shivered in her arms
Her dark blue eyes were drenched
And her mind was a dark, narrow corridor.
Her heat prolonged in entrapment,
Torturing her unknowingly with each eternity-like moment.
Finally, she ceased her overwhelming emotions,
Now silent and pondering
Distracted, the jar fell, and shattered at her feet
He’s gone. He’s gone! The words danced in her mind.
Her cœur, coeur was free, and she was free
She got to her feet, no longer stumbling
And the shattered jar crunched under her feet
There was no plus pain.
~~~~~~~~
...Yeah, I know it kinda sucks. Like I said, first attempt. :/
The jour ended on a cold note for the cold night
He had her cœur, coeur sealed in a jar, fragile and trapped
Until he had his moment and let go
With little strength, she had saved it and ran
She had ran until the darkness was unbearable,
As she wept, the jar shivered in her arms
Her dark blue eyes were drenched
And her mind was a dark, narrow corridor.
Her heat prolonged in entrapment,
Torturing her unknowingly with each eternity-like moment.
Finally, she ceased her overwhelming emotions,
Now silent and pondering
Distracted, the jar fell, and shattered at her feet
He’s gone. He’s gone! The words danced in her mind.
Her cœur, coeur was free, and she was free
She got to her feet, no longer stumbling
And the shattered jar crunched under her feet
There was no plus pain.
~~~~~~~~
...Yeah, I know it kinda sucks. Like I said, first attempt. :/
Ok, so I just want to write a little summary to my story that I want to write called A Place of Our Own I'm basically écriture this to see if people will like it, and if they do, I'll write more. :)
So anyways, it's about a Hollie, 17 an old girl who has an alcoholic mother and a step father who abuses her as well as her 12 an old sister, Amy. Hollie's been in a 3 an on/off relationship with a heroin addicted boyfriend, Danny. When a close call puts Danny in the hospital, he promises Hollie that he'll quit and they'll find a better life. This causes Hollie to realize that she needs to leave accueil and find help herself.
So yeah, if toi liked this, please commentaire and there WILL be more. Thanks. :)
So anyways, it's about a Hollie, 17 an old girl who has an alcoholic mother and a step father who abuses her as well as her 12 an old sister, Amy. Hollie's been in a 3 an on/off relationship with a heroin addicted boyfriend, Danny. When a close call puts Danny in the hospital, he promises Hollie that he'll quit and they'll find a better life. This causes Hollie to realize that she needs to leave accueil and find help herself.
So yeah, if toi liked this, please commentaire and there WILL be more. Thanks. :)