SelfTitled
High school student who wants to be a New York Times Bestseller one day... fingers crossed!
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Written by SelfTitled

Sober Up.

Because Andre stood there, waiting for the bus for arrive.

It was early in the morning. A winter's sunrise, just barely peaking over the clouds. Not enough. And Andre wore dark clothes that couldn't reflect a single bit of light off of them.

He took the heat of the crash when the car popped the curb. It was a long weekend. A little drink or too wasn't so bad at first. Maybe the sobering was too much for the guy. He panicked, tried to shake bleeding, tire-burnt Andre awake, cursed up a storm, and sped away as fast as he could.

The neighborhood kids avoid that tree because it's too close to oncoming traffic. Too close to a world that could just slam into them and trap them in something they were not ready for. Too close to Ms. Jackson's mortified sobs. Too close to the skid marks staining Andre's once smiling face. Too close to call. Far too close.

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Written by SelfTitled
Sober Up.
Because Andre stood there, waiting for the bus for arrive.

It was early in the morning. A winter's sunrise, just barely peaking over the clouds. Not enough. And Andre wore dark clothes that couldn't reflect a single bit of light off of them.

He took the heat of the crash when the car popped the curb. It was a long weekend. A little drink or too wasn't so bad at first. Maybe the sobering was too much for the guy. He panicked, tried to shake bleeding, tire-burnt Andre awake, cursed up a storm, and sped away as fast as he could.

The neighborhood kids avoid that tree because it's too close to oncoming traffic. Too close to a world that could just slam into them and trap them in something they were not ready for. Too close to Ms. Jackson's mortified sobs. Too close to the skid marks staining Andre's once smiling face. Too close to call. Far too close.
#nonfiction  #education  #culture  #DontDrinkAndDrive 
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Write about your best friend.
Written by SelfTitled

Jesus Is My Helmet

But God is a girl

who finds frustration is being deemed so

the Virgin Mary, pristine and beautiful,

the one that keeps my head down

when I want to scream to Heaven

and she prays with me, this version of Joshua,

and baptizes me in her tears

when I tell her all the wrathful things I think about doing

to myself. She is Gabriel,

quick tongued and hilariously realistic

with her thoughts-- that independence:

she's Lucifer, a thrill seeker, craving something new

from this small town we call Purgatory,

slipping down, down, down,

I'm Virgil, she's Dante,

and we'll burn together,

going out with a bang,

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Write about your best friend.
Written by SelfTitled
Jesus Is My Helmet
But God is a girl
who finds frustration is being deemed so
the Virgin Mary, pristine and beautiful,
the one that keeps my head down
when I want to scream to Heaven
and she prays with me, this version of Joshua,
and baptizes me in her tears
when I tell her all the wrathful things I think about doing
to myself. She is Gabriel,
quick tongued and hilariously realistic
with her thoughts-- that independence:
she's Lucifer, a thrill seeker, craving something new
from this small town we call Purgatory,
slipping down, down, down,
I'm Virgil, she's Dante,
and we'll burn together,
going out with a bang,
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Written by SelfTitled in portal Religion

Meet Me Under the Apple Tree

We'll laugh and sing under that sycamore

dreaming of days where we'd feel childish and craving

for Father to find us frolicking in all that he was granted us

content with unfulfillment

I shouldn't have followed you down that path, strange friend,

where your eyes slither up and down my unsullied flesh

digging your way into my mind

plaguing me with unfulfillment

My teeth clattered at the cool of the sweet

the juices slipping down my chin, dripping on my bare breast

your forked tongue trembling with delight as I looked down at myself in shame

unfulfilled with nudity

We'll cower under that weeping willow

the rains and chill from the angel of music

consuming up, past the point of no return

Father glowers down at us, unfulfilled from our disrespect.

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Written by SelfTitled in portal Religion
Meet Me Under the Apple Tree
We'll laugh and sing under that sycamore
dreaming of days where we'd feel childish and craving
for Father to find us frolicking in all that he was granted us
content with unfulfillment

I shouldn't have followed you down that path, strange friend,
where your eyes slither up and down my unsullied flesh
digging your way into my mind
plaguing me with unfulfillment

My teeth clattered at the cool of the sweet
the juices slipping down my chin, dripping on my bare breast
your forked tongue trembling with delight as I looked down at myself in shame
unfulfilled with nudity

We'll cower under that weeping willow
the rains and chill from the angel of music
consuming up, past the point of no return
Father glowers down at us, unfulfilled from our disrespect.


#horror  #poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #culture 
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Written by SelfTitled in portal Journal

Title Inspiration

In case anyone was curious, I base a lot of the titles of my works off of songs that I like. So I thought I should leave the song links here with the titles in case people were curious. Also I'm so sorry about my embarrassing taste in music like omg

Girls Like U -- Blackbear (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvRegj2_asY)

first kiss -- elijah who (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m7QtuDEwlHY)

egyptian pools -- jinsang. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1z7W3CKFWI)

Kitchen Sink -- Twenty One Pilots (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Ez7vi-kQdM)

No Money (Blake Remix) -- Galantis (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWP6bx2CDik)

We Won't Speak Like This Again -- VAGUE003 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f2udGJublpU)

It's Raining Men -- The Weather Girls (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4x6leDGV7gs)

im closing my eyes -- potsu (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6TpSVngKoI)

Tonight -- VAGUE003 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3XK1e5VCRI)

ever since ft. d'est roy -- lovey (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yUycatBH0a8)

The Blacke Parade (Full Album) -- My Chemical Romance (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5fmPHziTWQ)

Honest -- The Neighbourhood (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqXjt5WFPgc)

Happy Song -- Bring Me The Horizon (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBRAnuT48qo)

Killing Me Softly (Strumming My Pain) -- The Fugees (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69VrOmd7qNc)

Tear Garden -- IAMX (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zq9DtH4w6s)

Sound of da Police -- KRS-One (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ZrAYxWPN6c)

Mr. Brightside -- The Killers (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NA6V8WYqc0A)

Lifeboat -- Heathers: The Musical (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cO_bnOUmX6s)

A.D.H.D. -- Kendrick Lamar (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r0bzx8m1l9I)

BITE -- Troye Sivan (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLuWMOF6vOU)

$TING -- The Neighbourhood (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ncwyxArd4c)

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Written by SelfTitled in portal Journal
Title Inspiration
In case anyone was curious, I base a lot of the titles of my works off of songs that I like. So I thought I should leave the song links here with the titles in case people were curious. Also I'm so sorry about my embarrassing taste in music like omg

Girls Like U -- Blackbear (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvRegj2_asY)
first kiss -- elijah who (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m7QtuDEwlHY)
egyptian pools -- jinsang. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1z7W3CKFWI)
Kitchen Sink -- Twenty One Pilots (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Ez7vi-kQdM)
No Money (Blake Remix) -- Galantis (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWP6bx2CDik)
We Won't Speak Like This Again -- VAGUE003 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f2udGJublpU)
It's Raining Men -- The Weather Girls (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4x6leDGV7gs)
im closing my eyes -- potsu (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6TpSVngKoI)
Tonight -- VAGUE003 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3XK1e5VCRI)
ever since ft. d'est roy -- lovey (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yUycatBH0a8)
The Blacke Parade (Full Album) -- My Chemical Romance (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5fmPHziTWQ)
Honest -- The Neighbourhood (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqXjt5WFPgc)
Happy Song -- Bring Me The Horizon (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBRAnuT48qo)
Killing Me Softly (Strumming My Pain) -- The Fugees (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69VrOmd7qNc)
Tear Garden -- IAMX (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zq9DtH4w6s)
Sound of da Police -- KRS-One (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ZrAYxWPN6c)
Mr. Brightside -- The Killers (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NA6V8WYqc0A)
Lifeboat -- Heathers: The Musical (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cO_bnOUmX6s)
A.D.H.D. -- Kendrick Lamar (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r0bzx8m1l9I)
BITE -- Troye Sivan (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLuWMOF6vOU)
$TING -- The Neighbourhood (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ncwyxArd4c)
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Written by SelfTitled in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Girls Like U (Drink Bleach)

"Quit acting like a baby

Or at least less like a child."

Caught up in the cig smoke called your forever

drenched in the fogginess clouded in your lungs

I'll learn that feeling called turbulence

quaking through your arteries until something just

snap.

It tastes good, don't it?

That burning down, down, down that rabbit hole

called your throat

churning in your stomach

drowning your butterflies in acid.

Yeah, that's the spirit.

Give me your forever.

Because I don't fuck with--

©SelfTitled, 2017

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Written by SelfTitled in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Girls Like U (Drink Bleach)
"Quit acting like a baby
Or at least less like a child."

Caught up in the cig smoke called your forever
drenched in the fogginess clouded in your lungs
I'll learn that feeling called turbulence
quaking through your arteries until something just
snap.

It tastes good, don't it?
That burning down, down, down that rabbit hole
called your throat
churning in your stomach
drowning your butterflies in acid.
Yeah, that's the spirit.

Give me your forever.
Because I don't fuck with--



©SelfTitled, 2017

#poetry  #lyrics  #Blackbear  #GirlsLikeU  #InspiredByMusic 
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With a smile, I decided, I could laugh it all away.
Written by SelfTitled

first kiss

"Can I kiss you?" The words jolted Olivia awake from her dream, the tone of Matthew's voice sounding too real for her to handle. Without her glasses, she couldn't see much of anything, but she still rolled over in her bed, arm draped across her waist, and squinted hard at the digital clock on her nightstand. She made out a twelve then probably a twenty-seven. Still midnight.

"Ugh..." Groaning, she sat up in her bed, feet tangled into the cool sheets. She ran a hand through the kinks in her hair then rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She had classes in the morning that she needed to focus on. But she couldn't bring herself to sleep. The memories of the day before worked its way through the crevices of her until she caught herself blushing. "Ugh."

For one thing, Matthew is disgusting and she hates him. She's hated him ever since they met in middle school. And he's a total womanizer. But, back then, with his hand cupping her face and thumb wiping the tears from her eyes... "Can I kiss you?" Olivia brought a hand to her lips, tongue darting out and wetting the chapped layers.

"God, you're such an idiot," she whispered, a smile tugging it's way at her cheeks.

©SelfTitled, 2017

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With a smile, I decided, I could laugh it all away.
Written by SelfTitled
first kiss
"Can I kiss you?" The words jolted Olivia awake from her dream, the tone of Matthew's voice sounding too real for her to handle. Without her glasses, she couldn't see much of anything, but she still rolled over in her bed, arm draped across her waist, and squinted hard at the digital clock on her nightstand. She made out a twelve then probably a twenty-seven. Still midnight.

"Ugh..." Groaning, she sat up in her bed, feet tangled into the cool sheets. She ran a hand through the kinks in her hair then rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She had classes in the morning that she needed to focus on. But she couldn't bring herself to sleep. The memories of the day before worked its way through the crevices of her until she caught herself blushing. "Ugh."

For one thing, Matthew is disgusting and she hates him. She's hated him ever since they met in middle school. And he's a total womanizer. But, back then, with his hand cupping her face and thumb wiping the tears from her eyes... "Can I kiss you?" Olivia brought a hand to her lips, tongue darting out and wetting the chapped layers.

"God, you're such an idiot," she whispered, a smile tugging it's way at her cheeks.


©SelfTitled, 2017
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Write about your age, and how you believe it has helped your writing.
Written by SelfTitled

In Love

I'm fifteen.

Sixteen next month.

I get thrown so much shade I can call it sunshine.

In high school.

Top ten percent of my class.

I have a crush on four guys.

My best friend is Jesus reborn.

Mom and I are obsessed with Hannibal

Manga, still life, portraits, and landscapes.

Love = Parents.

Waiting for my email from Brown.

Yeah, Brown hit me up.

Love sweets.

Hate Trump.

I'm X and Dubois.

I'm King and Garvey.

I'm black and a panther.

Yeah, I'm black.

Undeniably so.

Some people don't get that.

I can pass as white, like, over the phone.

I make original characters.

Love traveling.

Want to go away for college.

Three high schools in the last two years.

Been reading since two.

Haven't stopped.

It's my way of traveling the world.

I have a wanderlust that depresses me.

Kinda broke.

About to start working this summer.

Still be here, in this tiny ass town.

And that kind of sucks because I hate it.

But at least I can keep writing what I know.

Then I can drown with three pages left

...

Journals are hella cheap.

I can't swim.

©SelfTitled, 2017

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Write about your age, and how you believe it has helped your writing.
Written by SelfTitled
In Love
I'm fifteen.
Sixteen next month.
I get thrown so much shade I can call it sunshine.
In high school.
Top ten percent of my class.
I have a crush on four guys.
My best friend is Jesus reborn.
Mom and I are obsessed with Hannibal
Manga, still life, portraits, and landscapes.
Love = Parents.
Waiting for my email from Brown.
Yeah, Brown hit me up.
Love sweets.
Hate Trump.
I'm X and Dubois.
I'm King and Garvey.
I'm black and a panther.
Yeah, I'm black.
Undeniably so.
Some people don't get that.
I can pass as white, like, over the phone.
I make original characters.
Love traveling.
Want to go away for college.
Three high schools in the last two years.
Been reading since two.
Haven't stopped.
It's my way of traveling the world.
I have a wanderlust that depresses me.
Kinda broke.
About to start working this summer.
Still be here, in this tiny ass town.
And that kind of sucks because I hate it.
But at least I can keep writing what I know.
Then I can drown with three pages left
...
Journals are hella cheap.
I can't swim.

©SelfTitled, 2017
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Okay, just curious, but how do you talk to someone you think it incredibly cute but can't find the words to articulate your feelings? You can write advice, poetry, prose, fiction, non-fiction, anything.
Written by SelfTitled

Masquerade

You can't name my face.

More like, you and you and you and you.

The four of you tempting me into this song and dance

sweeping me off my feet into the dance floor

creating your own prima

not knowing my name

Jesus, what have I to lose?

Let's ditch this ball and go somewhere brand new

twisting through the crowds, all grace and shine

grinding in the darkness, your lips on mine

Except that's not how it is

that's just my imagination

mixed with a tiny dosage of estrogen

I can't control the drugs in my body

but I hope to get you hooked

I don't really know what I'm saying

because, naturally, I don't know how to talk to the four of you

I don a mask, different for you lot

describing a name and a face that isn't mine

The chill, what do I have to lose,

for you, my athletic friend

offering over things to you that I know you'd decline

because we're like siblings, you and I

(...And perhaps it's because you know that my mask is cracked

so maybe I am losing

a piece of myself. An identity

One that screams,

"Yeah, I don't suck under the bleachers!"

And I'm afraid that you're not alright with it

when I know deep down that I am)

The wild, the braless bitc--

Not afraid of what I want to say

but what I need to say, well, I keep it quiet

because you get pissy when I don't let you do you

and that's all fine

when it's not

(At least you're easy to talk to

others would back up off me after a while

of me crying into the phone

or texting late at night for a distraction

that you're usually willing to give until you pass out.

"Night, little brother.")

The smart, the mature underclassmen,

because you're older,

even if it's just a year,

but still,

I don't know what to say

to you

or your girlfriend

("Oh, Christ--")

Th sweet, the considering best friend,

the one too many counties away

who we'd have to fight traffic for

just to meet up for an hour or more

the one you take too long to text back

but I text back immediately

wondering if you're, you know, kinda gay

Afraid that's what you might say.

(Of course, I'll still be there for you

"Every step of the way.")

©SelfTitled, 2017

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Okay, just curious, but how do you talk to someone you think it incredibly cute but can't find the words to articulate your feelings? You can write advice, poetry, prose, fiction, non-fiction, anything.
Written by SelfTitled
Masquerade
You can't name my face.
More like, you and you and you and you.
The four of you tempting me into this song and dance
sweeping me off my feet into the dance floor
creating your own prima
not knowing my name

Jesus, what have I to lose?
Let's ditch this ball and go somewhere brand new
twisting through the crowds, all grace and shine
grinding in the darkness, your lips on mine

Except that's not how it is
that's just my imagination
mixed with a tiny dosage of estrogen
I can't control the drugs in my body
but I hope to get you hooked

I don't really know what I'm saying
because, naturally, I don't know how to talk to the four of you
I don a mask, different for you lot
describing a name and a face that isn't mine

The chill, what do I have to lose,
for you, my athletic friend
offering over things to you that I know you'd decline
because we're like siblings, you and I

(...And perhaps it's because you know that my mask is cracked
so maybe I am losing
a piece of myself. An identity
One that screams,
"Yeah, I don't suck under the bleachers!"
And I'm afraid that you're not alright with it
when I know deep down that I am)

The wild, the braless bitc--
Not afraid of what I want to say
but what I need to say, well, I keep it quiet
because you get pissy when I don't let you do you
and that's all fine
when it's not

(At least you're easy to talk to
others would back up off me after a while
of me crying into the phone
or texting late at night for a distraction
that you're usually willing to give until you pass out.
"Night, little brother.")

The smart, the mature underclassmen,
because you're older,
even if it's just a year,
but still,
I don't know what to say
to you
or your girlfriend

("Oh, Christ--")

Th sweet, the considering best friend,
the one too many counties away
who we'd have to fight traffic for
just to meet up for an hour or more
the one you take too long to text back
but I text back immediately
wondering if you're, you know, kinda gay
Afraid that's what you might say.

(Of course, I'll still be there for you
"Every step of the way.")



©SelfTitled, 2017
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You see an online job offer for a hired killer. Write a resume ensuring you get the job.
Written by SelfTitled in portal Horror & Thriller

NG Jackson

NG Jackson

069 Charlottesville Lane, Apt 287, Chicago, Illinois, USA | 641-991-4679 | HadesLadyPimp95@mymail.com

Career Summary:

NG Jackson is a sniper for higher internationally. She is ranked third-string on the Black Market and has completed several jobs for Jester, placing her at the top of her class. She has a kill streak of 645 targets, including casualties (which is an option depending on the client.)

-Outstanding multi-tasking skills

-Works well with others

-Well under pressure or when high

-Will take low pay or drugs

-Badass sniper

-Will only kill the client(s) if there is a shortage of pay

©SelfTitled, 2017

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You see an online job offer for a hired killer. Write a resume ensuring you get the job.
Written by SelfTitled in portal Horror & Thriller
NG Jackson
NG Jackson
069 Charlottesville Lane, Apt 287, Chicago, Illinois, USA | 641-991-4679 | HadesLadyPimp95@mymail.com

Career Summary:
NG Jackson is a sniper for higher internationally. She is ranked third-string on the Black Market and has completed several jobs for Jester, placing her at the top of her class. She has a kill streak of 645 targets, including casualties (which is an option depending on the client.)

-Outstanding multi-tasking skills
-Works well with others
-Well under pressure or when high
-Will take low pay or drugs
-Badass sniper
-Will only kill the client(s) if there is a shortage of pay


©SelfTitled, 2017
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Written by SelfTitled in portal Horror & Thriller

Ballad of Something Beautiful

There was this girl that I liked. Well, it was more like we liked each other. We met each other in high school, sophomore year, closer to summer break. She had this abundant mop of curly, deep brown hair atop her head and dark skin. Her eyes were hazel. She had the most stunning smile. Her name was Rachel.

Uh, Rachel and I hung out. Like, a lot. We would go to the movies or lunch on the weekends and meet up at the library during the week to work on our summer assignments for stuff like APUSH or AP Lang. And we'd text like nobody's business. Haha, she was just always so attached to her phone. And she'd text back so fast, it was crazy. There were even times when my mom wouldn't let me have my phone, like, during dinner or when I'm doing homework because we'd text so much. We kept it all pretty slow, but it was nice. You know how, like, in those teenager movies or chick flicks like The Fault In Our Stars you've got that really cushy, lovable couple? That was us. Every single aspect of it.

We kissed for the first time on the Fourth of July. Yeah, fireworks in the background and everything. There's this baseball stadium in our county that has fireworks shows and such during the Fourth, but we didn't have the money to go inside and enjoy them face-to-face. There were a lot of lazy ass people camping outside of the stadium to catch glimpses of each pop. Alright, I guess I can't really talk bad about them when we did the same thing.

Kissing her felt like floating in calm ocean. It took me away from the people surrounding us and the noisy cracks inside of the stadium. It felt like nothing could leave that moment between us. I was so happy.

Christ, uh... this... this is where it gets a little tough... See, another thing you should know about Rachel was that she always wore sweaters and jeans. Yeah, I know, even in the summer heat. She'd just never show me her skin. And she had this thing about people touching her too much. I mean, I felt her. No one wanted too much contact. We all love our space. So I never pushed her too much until we really started going steady.

One more thing you should know, Rachel would never, and I mean never, let me over her house. All I knew of her place was that she lived, I guess, on the wrong side of the tracks, so her neighborhood was complete shit. But I didn't think it was ever just that, really. She always complained about how much of a cunt her dad was, so I just thought that he would be a huge jerk or something if I ever came over. 

When I asked her about her place, she'd get pretty pissed at me, even if I begged her with my best puppy eyes if I could come over. After a while, I just stopped asking her about her house all together. I think she liked it better that way.

But anyway, back to our relationship. It was when school started back up that she began acting weird. And, ya know, Rachel's a weird person naturally. We both were. I assumed that she was just stressed because at the time we were juniors so shit like college and tests would be thrown in our faces. But it wasn't that. It wasn't.

On Labor Day, we spent the day at my house. We were fooling around a little bit, seeing how far we wanted to go. I was convinced that Rachel and I loved each other enough that we could hook up. I tried pulling her sweater up over her head. She was in such a daze that she let me. Then I saw them and I stopped in my tracks.

Parents, you know... th-they can really do some fucked up shit. Cunt was an understatement when she described her dad. The bruises were horrifying to look at. There were even damaged parts of her skin where it was like the belt-buckle was practically branded there. Rachel noticed that I was staring, screamed, and shoved me off the bed. Screamed at me for touching her. Screamed at me for staring.

Look, I was sixteen. I had no idea what to do. Don't blame me for letting her storm out. Don't blame me for, at first, blaming her for her anger. I know now that she had every right to be mad.

We didn't talk for over a week. She didn't go to school for two. When we came back, I cornered her at her locker and spilled out as many apologies as I could. For being a dick and saying the things I said. For making her uncomfortable. Then for how much of an evil ass her dad was.

Rachel smiled at me, shook her head, and told me it's okay. Staring at her face, I don't think I've seen anyone with such dark bags under their eyes. I knew she wasn't okay when she flinched away when I attempted to hug her.

To this day, I don't know everything that Rachel's dad was doing to her. She told me that he was stressed with work; he had one of those niche jobs that he could be replaced with the quickness by machines. And he was taking online school to get his Master's degree in whatever the fuck. But I know that, despite her excuses, none of the shit he did was right. Everything was so fucked up beyond imagination that I wanted to go and beat the shit out of him. I was going to. I never got the chance.

Before leaving her to go home after a long day of standardized testing, Rachel slipped me a torn piece of notebook paper. "That's my address. Come by sometime," she told me. She stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek with a smile. I was confused. I didn't do anything but force a smile and wave as she crossed over to the left side of the tracks, not looking back.

The news report said that Rachel and her father, who was so drunk that he blood-alcohol lever was 25%, apparently got into an argument resulting in him, Anthony Colbert, to gun her down with an unregistered firearm before turning the gun on himself. The autopsy report displayed a bullet wound to her throat-- meaning she suffered for a while before drowning in her own blood, multiple abrasions to her skin and bones from possibly years of physical abuse, self-inflicted cuts across her hips and forearms, and dead sperm cells inside of... yeah. Her dad did all of that, and possibly more. Neither report was pretty. Neither report broke the news that an innocent girl who loved wearing sweaters and kissed like the ocean was taken away from me and I'll never get her back.

Christ... if I could go back and tell Rachel how sorry I was for not being able to protect her, I would. If I could just hug her and kiss her and never let her go, I would. Jesus, I just can't ever stop thinking about how wonderful she was. How kind she was. How completely miserable she was. I'd do anything to have her back. But that's never gonna happen.

So, uh, I guess that's why I'm here. To tell her story. To tell everyone that Rachel was someone to root for, you know? And what happened to her; what happens to kids everywhere-- you don't deserve it. No matter what it is. God, you don't deserve any of the shit that you go through. Rachel... Rachel was just like you. So selfless. Not wanting anyone to worry about her. And you guys are so strong for doing the things you do.

I understand if you're hurting. Just know that you're not alone. Don't let yourself be alone. Thanks.

© SelfTitled, 2017

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Written by SelfTitled in portal Horror & Thriller
Ballad of Something Beautiful
There was this girl that I liked. Well, it was more like we liked each other. We met each other in high school, sophomore year, closer to summer break. She had this abundant mop of curly, deep brown hair atop her head and dark skin. Her eyes were hazel. She had the most stunning smile. Her name was Rachel.

Uh, Rachel and I hung out. Like, a lot. We would go to the movies or lunch on the weekends and meet up at the library during the week to work on our summer assignments for stuff like APUSH or AP Lang. And we'd text like nobody's business. Haha, she was just always so attached to her phone. And she'd text back so fast, it was crazy. There were even times when my mom wouldn't let me have my phone, like, during dinner or when I'm doing homework because we'd text so much. We kept it all pretty slow, but it was nice. You know how, like, in those teenager movies or chick flicks like The Fault In Our Stars you've got that really cushy, lovable couple? That was us. Every single aspect of it.

We kissed for the first time on the Fourth of July. Yeah, fireworks in the background and everything. There's this baseball stadium in our county that has fireworks shows and such during the Fourth, but we didn't have the money to go inside and enjoy them face-to-face. There were a lot of lazy ass people camping outside of the stadium to catch glimpses of each pop. Alright, I guess I can't really talk bad about them when we did the same thing.

Kissing her felt like floating in calm ocean. It took me away from the people surrounding us and the noisy cracks inside of the stadium. It felt like nothing could leave that moment between us. I was so happy.

Christ, uh... this... this is where it gets a little tough... See, another thing you should know about Rachel was that she always wore sweaters and jeans. Yeah, I know, even in the summer heat. She'd just never show me her skin. And she had this thing about people touching her too much. I mean, I felt her. No one wanted too much contact. We all love our space. So I never pushed her too much until we really started going steady.

One more thing you should know, Rachel would never, and I mean never, let me over her house. All I knew of her place was that she lived, I guess, on the wrong side of the tracks, so her neighborhood was complete shit. But I didn't think it was ever just that, really. She always complained about how much of a cunt her dad was, so I just thought that he would be a huge jerk or something if I ever came over. 

When I asked her about her place, she'd get pretty pissed at me, even if I begged her with my best puppy eyes if I could come over. After a while, I just stopped asking her about her house all together. I think she liked it better that way.

But anyway, back to our relationship. It was when school started back up that she began acting weird. And, ya know, Rachel's a weird person naturally. We both were. I assumed that she was just stressed because at the time we were juniors so shit like college and tests would be thrown in our faces. But it wasn't that. It wasn't.

On Labor Day, we spent the day at my house. We were fooling around a little bit, seeing how far we wanted to go. I was convinced that Rachel and I loved each other enough that we could hook up. I tried pulling her sweater up over her head. She was in such a daze that she let me. Then I saw them and I stopped in my tracks.

Parents, you know... th-they can really do some fucked up shit. Cunt was an understatement when she described her dad. The bruises were horrifying to look at. There were even damaged parts of her skin where it was like the belt-buckle was practically branded there. Rachel noticed that I was staring, screamed, and shoved me off the bed. Screamed at me for touching her. Screamed at me for staring.

Look, I was sixteen. I had no idea what to do. Don't blame me for letting her storm out. Don't blame me for, at first, blaming her for her anger. I know now that she had every right to be mad.

We didn't talk for over a week. She didn't go to school for two. When we came back, I cornered her at her locker and spilled out as many apologies as I could. For being a dick and saying the things I said. For making her uncomfortable. Then for how much of an evil ass her dad was.

Rachel smiled at me, shook her head, and told me it's okay. Staring at her face, I don't think I've seen anyone with such dark bags under their eyes. I knew she wasn't okay when she flinched away when I attempted to hug her.

To this day, I don't know everything that Rachel's dad was doing to her. She told me that he was stressed with work; he had one of those niche jobs that he could be replaced with the quickness by machines. And he was taking online school to get his Master's degree in whatever the fuck. But I know that, despite her excuses, none of the shit he did was right. Everything was so fucked up beyond imagination that I wanted to go and beat the shit out of him. I was going to. I never got the chance.

Before leaving her to go home after a long day of standardized testing, Rachel slipped me a torn piece of notebook paper. "That's my address. Come by sometime," she told me. She stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek with a smile. I was confused. I didn't do anything but force a smile and wave as she crossed over to the left side of the tracks, not looking back.

The news report said that Rachel and her father, who was so drunk that he blood-alcohol lever was 25%, apparently got into an argument resulting in him, Anthony Colbert, to gun her down with an unregistered firearm before turning the gun on himself. The autopsy report displayed a bullet wound to her throat-- meaning she suffered for a while before drowning in her own blood, multiple abrasions to her skin and bones from possibly years of physical abuse, self-inflicted cuts across her hips and forearms, and dead sperm cells inside of... yeah. Her dad did all of that, and possibly more. Neither report was pretty. Neither report broke the news that an innocent girl who loved wearing sweaters and kissed like the ocean was taken away from me and I'll never get her back.

Christ... if I could go back and tell Rachel how sorry I was for not being able to protect her, I would. If I could just hug her and kiss her and never let her go, I would. Jesus, I just can't ever stop thinking about how wonderful she was. How kind she was. How completely miserable she was. I'd do anything to have her back. But that's never gonna happen.

So, uh, I guess that's why I'm here. To tell her story. To tell everyone that Rachel was someone to root for, you know? And what happened to her; what happens to kids everywhere-- you don't deserve it. No matter what it is. God, you don't deserve any of the shit that you go through. Rachel... Rachel was just like you. So selfless. Not wanting anyone to worry about her. And you guys are so strong for doing the things you do.

I understand if you're hurting. Just know that you're not alone. Don't let yourself be alone. Thanks.


© SelfTitled, 2017
9
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Juice
21 reads
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