My Wattpad!

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An Artist's Dreams

Black hair. Cropped. Smooth. Thick.  Green eyes. Bright. Cold. Unfeeling. Tall. Thin. Brad chest. Pail skin. Angular face. Muscular figure. American. Lip ring. Bars. Silver. Tattoos. Arm. Neck. Black. Ink like. Teenager. 17. Ageless. Appearance of immortality. Dark clothing. Dress pants. Long coat. Formal. Modern. Amulet. Sliver. Star. Circle. Black cord. Dangerous. Mysterious. Distant. Educated. Embodiment of shadows. Embodiment of desire.

My eyes snapped open and I banged the off button on my alarm. An alarm I had snoozed three times before. My phone rang. The police sirens that warned me that my friend, Ava, was calling to yell at me.

“Hello?”

“Open the door! It’s freezing,” I heard a crash come from the back side of my house, “Never mind.”

She came through my bedroom door less than a minute later. “You need a new window,” she said in a calm voice.

“What?!” I jumped up, already dressed, and ran to my front window. It was fine. I looked to her and she pointed behind me.

“Oh no. Oh,” I looked at the crashed window and the rock sitting in a puddle of broken glass.

“How does that not hurt?”

“What?” I was leaning agents what was left of the window and she looked at me like I was going insane.

“Your arm.”

I looked down at my arm which had gone numb a moment later. Blood was running down my skin and cutting into my flesh. “Ava.”

She was already there, handing me a cloth.

I cleaned all the blood and pulled glass out of my arm. I than burned the cloth that contained my blood.

Some people I knew thought I had a mental disorder. My mother thought I was just observant and creative.  Ava thought I was psychic, cautious, and maybe a little nuts. 

I heard voices, saw things, and was extremely careful. By careful I mean that, I don’t trust people and am careful about who has access to my blood.

I can’t explain why I’m like this and I try to hide it from most people I meet. Most of my friends, even those I’m close to, don’t know about it.

After the cloth was burned I fixed the window, replaced the screen, and cleaned up the glass, throwing it away outside. When I came in the house I heard whispering and the air stank of grief, ash and wilting roses. Someone was here. “Ava?”

“I know.” She was holding a pale pink rosary and we walked out to sit out on the porch until the uninvited guest had left.

“You could sense it?” I asked, not looking at her.

She nodded. “Ya. Sadness.”

We were silent for many moments.

“Why?”

“Why what?!” I snapped.

“Why are they watching you? Why are they here?”

“If I knew why than I would know how to stop them.” I didn’t have to say any more. She knew what I meant. If I knew how to stop them, I would.  Same thing went for my odd dreams. The dreams that weren’t really dreams at all, just descriptions of people. People that I drew, bue Ava didn’t know about those, and neither did my mother.

After about fifteen more miniutes, we went back inside.

 

Who I Am

I am One of You

© a super cool and creative website

The other day I went to an advice website for teens and asked, “I feel overwhelmed with homework. What should I do?” Do you know what I got back?
“Eat your vegetables and get a good night sleep.”
Wow. Thanks a lot. Then I asked, “My friends are fighting. Should I try to stop them?”
“Go to a trusted adult.” Really? Again I asked the site. “Why is the sky blue?”
“I’m sorry. We could not decode this question. Please retype your question in the box below.” What kind of a person would write such predictable answers? Answer? None. It’s run by a computer. What the hell! I’m on a computer right now! I want a person to answer my questions.
*********************************************
School. Family. Friends. Pets. Relationships. No relationships. Grades. Homework. Sports.
I am a student. A daughter. A friend. A girlfriend. An ex-girlfriend. A team member. An artist. A musician. A scientist. A blogger. A Facebook user. A girl. A teen.
How can I be all these things and still be me? How can I be all these things and not even know how to just be me?
I’ve made it through my crazy life and I’m still in it but I’m here to help. I don’t want any teen, anywhere to have to go to a stupid, computerized advise site run by adults, and I don’t buy the whole “We’re older and know all about what’s best. Blah, blah, blah…”
I’m a teen and I know damn well that when I’m sad, pissed, or just plain confused, there is no way I’m going to talk to an adult about my problems. I need a girl. A teen. A friend.

I’m here, ask me anything. I’ve been through a lot and I survived. You will too.
To all the girls with no hope, the teens with nowhere to turn, to all the tormented angels stuck on earth: I’m one of you and I’m here to help. Just ask.

NEw StoRY you chose the title

Chapter 1

When the final bell rang, I threw my books in my locker and grabbed my bag. I slammed the door with an ear splitting “bang!” I ran out into the parking lot, narrowly avoiding the passing cars.

I don’t know how it happened and it didn’t matter. I was goofing off. The last thing I remember was waving goodbye to one of my friends, turning my back for a split second. That’s when is happened.

I heard a crash and felt a horrific jolt as I was struck to the ground. Bits of glass and steel flew everywhere, a large mass, shielding me.  My body seemed to fold in on itself, and my head smacked against cool concrete. I heard myself scream and the world went dark.

I awakened and it was very quiet. A figure was standing over me, wings outstretched. My vision was still blurred but I could make out the face of my “rescuer”.

I sat up and looked around, “If this is heaven, “I shook my head at my untended backyard, “I want a refund. And I want to know how the hell you got in.”

“I,” he winked, “am your guardian angel.”

“No, you’re my parole officer, one of the many.”

He shrugged, “Close enough.”

I began to walk inside, leaving him behind me. I wasn’t in the mood to fight. Not with him. Not now.

He caught up faster than should have been possible, if he were human. “Would you try to stay alive? Killing yourself won’t keep us away, you know?

“I know,” I decided to have some fun, “Worth a shot through.”

He didn’t laugh, “That wouldn’t make him feel better about this unfortunate event, not that I’m going to tell them.”

“I don’t give a crap about him or how he feels.”

“You should.”

“Why? He doesn’t care about what I think. He doesn’t give a damn about how I feel! Why should I care about him?”

“Because, you value your life,” with that he vanished, leaving me completely alone. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the little privacy this gave me, but I had just been screwed. Again. 

Damn. Why could they just never speak the plain truth? You see, fey don’t lie. What I mean is that they can’t lie. “That’s what the others said.” Word games. I had enjoyed them about a year ago. Now they were starting to piss me off.

I closed the door and walked to my kitchen, grabbing a Coke and bag of chips. I considered my status at this moment: avoided death, saved by Cutsuo.  Not that I would tweet that.

Although… could you imagine the comments if I changed my status from “Stressed about this year’s finals, gods I hate school” to “Just cheated death and saved by I fairy I’ve been avoiding since his king messed up my life. Gods I hate the fey king”?

Ya, I know, not a good idea. All things considered, I was having an extremely shity day.

I looked at the clock. 4:10. I had another 20 miniutes until the 4:30 guard, Jack I think his name was, arrived to keep watch until 7 when, just like every Friday, I would be summoned.  

I let my mine wonder until I realized I had no idea what was going on in their world since I hadn’t been there for the last three weeks. I really needed to update my knowledge of fey gossip.

Another glance at the clock. 10 minutes. I that it was cutting my time a little close but then again, I didn’t care. I looked at the clock, 9 minutes. I looked outside, no guard.

I went to my room and pulled out one of my many spell books and flipped to a page my late mother had tricked me into learning more than my fair share about. I cursed her under my breath then turned back to my book. I murmured the spell and with a dizzying spin, I was transported me to a small meadow I think was a few miles outside of Tulsa. A place I had heard about but didn’t exactly know where it was. In a way, I was lost but I knew exactly where I was. I was at one of the many entrances to Belle Terre; I just didn’t know where the entrance was located.

I pulled out my cell and texted Chris to meet me.

It took him 20 seconds.

“Hay Ro. How you doin’?”

“Good Chris, how ‘bout you?”

“I’m fine but I bet you didn’t come for idle chit- chat.”

“Good, so we can cut the crap and get down to business.” He knew I was in no mood for stalling so he relayed every piece of gossip he had heard in the past month, which was a lot.

“Hell no!!! No way, no how!”

“It’s what I heard.”

“Live?”

“Yep.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“But I can’t! I mean, isn’t I bad enough I have all these fey watching me? Now I have to… to…”

“Live in the palace.”

“He can’t make me. He can’t. He can’t!” I looked at him, “Can he?”

Chris shrugged, “He’s the king. He can do whatever he wants.”

“But if…” The meadow began to spin, “Already? Now? It can’t be time yet.” I looked down at my watch, 4: 28. “Shit! Thanks Chris got to go!”

“No prob-” he was cut off and I was back in my room.

6:30. I sat watching a rerun of my favorite anime, Bleach. It was addictive and I cursed my hypnotic friends for showing me an awesome, bloody, and yet somehow still romantic, first episode.

I was running out of things to do so I flipped through some of my favorite books and pulled out two. The first was, A Field Guide to Fairies, a frilly, fantasy book about little flower people. All the misconceptions about fairies tied up in a sparkly, pink book.

My second book was a favorite I had read not two months before I met the real fey. Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr. I think this book was the closest any mortal could come to the truth. She spoke of horrible, cadaverous, and beautiful creatures known as “The Fey”. In her book, she speaks of four courts. In reality there is truly only two, light and dark.

I loved her book.

I loved how she made the horrible creatures kind, feeling, and capable of love.

 I loved how it could help me escape from the truth.

I loved how untrue it was.

Again I looked at the clock. 6:49. One minute.             

“It’s time,” I said to myself.

Cutsuo flashed into my living room.

“You ready?”

“Ya, I guess.”

He looked down at my clothes and sighed. “You know the rules.”

I looked too. I found nothing wrong with my tank top, mini skirt, and knee high boot; the king thought differently. True, he knew I wasn’t going to be a pretty, pink, proper lady, but that wasn’t necessarily what he wanted. He would settle just fine with a hot, dark bitch and I do mean bitch and not witch (even though I knew he liked my being a witch).

“Fine,” I groaned, “but I get to pick this time, right?”

“Think again. Although…” he held up a bag and peaked inside, his grin widening, “I think you might like this one. It’s a little less… traditional.”

I rolled my eyes, “Great.” He threw the bag at me and I stoked of to my room to change.

When I reached into the bag my hand touched something smooth, soft… velvet.  Shadow black velvet and blood red silk. The dress was more like a corset and skirt.

I stepped back

 

Beware the Fey

Beware the demon beauties, beware the demon fey.
Beware them i was told, beware them she did say.
Beware them i did promise and beware them i did try,
But when she spoke of them, when she spoke she lied.
She spoke of horror and she spoke of lust,
But never did she speak of trust.
She never spoke of the beauty of fey,
The simple sight of fairy flight, too swiftly gone away.
He made me laugh, he made me cry.
He made me smile, he helped me fly.
He made me feel special, he made me want to lie.
He told me it was fate, and so I said goodbye.
Never could they find me, never would they try.
I should have listend to her, and now I have to die.

Beware the demon beauties, beware the demon fey.
Beware them i was told, beware them she did say.
Eventhough I knew I shouldn't,
eventhough i swore i wouldn't,
I did not beware them, did not beware the fey.
i did not beware them, upon my deathday...

i will remake this scene when i get home watch for it..

SCENE II. A bedchamber in the castle: DESDEMONA in bed asleep;
a light burning.
Enter OTHELLO
OTHELLO
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,--Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!--It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood;Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,And smooth as monumental alabaster.Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.Put out the light, and then put out the light:If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,I can again thy former light restore,Should I repent me: but once put out thy light,Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,I know not where is that Promethean heatThat can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd the rose,I cannot give it vital growth again.It must needs wither: I'll smell it on the tree.
Kissing her
Ah balmy breath, that dost almost persuadeJustice to break her sword! One more, one more.Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,And love thee after. One more, and this the last:So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,But they are cruel tears: this sorrow's heavenly;It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.
DESDEMONA
Who's there? Othello?
OTHELLO
Ay. Desdemona.
DESDEMONA
Will you come to bed, my lord?
OTHELLO
Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona?
DESDEMONA
Ay, my lord.
OTHELLO
If you bethink yourself of any crimeUnreconciled as yet to heaven and grace,Solicit for it straight.
DESDEMONA
Alas, my lord, what do you mean by that?
OTHELLO
Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by:I would not kill thy unprepared spirit;No; heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul.
DESDEMONA
Talk you of killing?
OTHELLO
Ay, I do.
DESDEMONA
Then heavenHave mercy on me!
OTHELLO
Amen, with all my heart!
DESDEMONA
If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
OTHELLO
Hum!
DESDEMONA
And yet I fear you; for you are fatal thenWhen your eyes roll so: why I should fear I know not,Since guiltiness I know not; but yet I feel I fear.
OTHELLO
Think on thy sins.
DESDEMONA
They are loves I bear to you.
OTHELLO
Ay, and for that thou diest.
DESDEMONA
That death's unnatural that kills for loving.Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?Some bloody passion shakes your very frame:These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope,They do not point on me.
OTHELLO
Peace, and be still!
DESDEMONA
I will so. What's the matter?
OTHELLO
That handkerchief which I so loved and gave theeThou gavest to Cassio.
DESDEMONA
No, by my life and soul!Send for the man, and ask him.
OTHELLO
Sweet soul, take heed,Take heed of perjury; thou art on thy deathbed.
DESDEMONA
Ay, but not yet to die.
OTHELLO
Yes, presently:Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin;For to deny each article with oathCannot remove nor choke the strong conceptionThat I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
DESDEMONA
Then Lord have mercy on me!
OTHELLO
I say, amen.
DESDEMONA
And have you mercy too! I never didOffend you in my life; never loved CassioBut with such general warranty of heavenAs I might love: I never gave him token.
OTHELLO
By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in's hand.O perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart,And makest me call what I intend to doA murder, which I thought a sacrifice:I saw the handkerchief.
DESDEMONA
He found it then;I never gave it him: send for him hither;Let him confess a truth.
OTHELLO
He hath confess'd.
DESDEMONA
What, my lord?
OTHELLO
That he hath used thee.
DESDEMONA
How? unlawfully?
OTHELLO
Ay.
DESDEMONA
He will not say so.
OTHELLO
No, his mouth is stopp'd;Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.
DESDEMONA
O! my fear interprets: what, is he dead?
OTHELLO
Had all his hairs been lives, my great revengeHad stomach for them all.
DESDEMONA
Alas! he is betray'd and I undone.
OTHELLO
Out, strumpet! weep'st thou for him to my face?
DESDEMONA
O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
OTHELLO
Down, strumpet!
DESDEMONA
Kill me to-morrow: let me live to-night!
OTHELLO
Nay, if you strive--
DESDEMONA
But half an hour!
OTHELLO
Being done, there is no pause.
DESDEMONA
But while I say one prayer!
OTHELLO
It is too late.
He stifles her


my scene will be a bit... well... different.