Chasing Away the Demons - Kayla Stiles (inspiring books for teens txt) 📗

I tried to scream, but he just clamped a hand tightly over my mouth with a look of apathy on his shadowy face.
     For about an hour, he tried repeatedly to assault me, but my struggles made it impossible. I felt my pocket vibrate at the same time as when he got off and placed a phone to his ear, turning his back on my. Quickly, I got out my cell phone and noticed the text was from David. It said, ‘Where r u?’ I rapidly responded ‘trapped in a van with a psycho. Come HELP!!!’ The man turned around just as I slipped my phone back into my pocket. He tried one more time to assault me, but was pushed away by me and pulled away by my boyfriend with equal force and simultaneously. Within minutes, the cops showed up to find my honey kicking the crap out of the man. They arrested the psycho and my honey came over to me and held me close, kissing and caressing me sweetly, gently. I’m sure that if we ever really tie the knot, our relationship will be fecund and blissful. ^_^ *lovey dovey eyes* I love my baby!”
     And so, that was what the last couple of hours have been like!
Just Another Day in Paradise

Just Another Day in Paradise

11/19/10

     “Hey! Sophomore!”
     Branden shouts from behind Lana. She turns around, ready for his disparaging remarks. He calls her pathetic, useless, a sorry excuse for an inferior human. He’s so sophomoric in nature. Though it’s only what could be expected from a super senior who’s been in high school for seven years instead of just four.
     Tears of anger begin to stream down her cheeks as Branden begins to make insults about the man she loves. His eyes harden and become extremely threatening as he looks at someone behind Lana.
     “What do you want, scum?” he says crudely.
     Suddenly a hand rests on Lana’s shoulder as an arms wraps around her waist. “I want you to leave my girl alone,” Damien says from his place behind Lana. His voice is chock full of flout.
     “I’m just teaching the child a lesson,” Branden says harshly. “Lola here was rude to me. Now she needs to pay the price.” He purposely makes a misnomer of Lana’s name.
     Damien tells him to leave and makes a quiet threat. Branden’s face goes white as he runs off, shooting evil glares at Damien over his shoulder as he goes. Damien asks Lana if she’s alright.
     She says yeah and adds, “He’s just an archetype of what I’ll always deal with.”
     He lightly presses his lips to hers, trailing his hands over her stomach and up and down her back.
     She breathes a soft “Thank you” before they both head off to an empty classroom so they can at least have a few minutes to themselves. They never like it when people watch them make out. Sweet, right?

The Purple Butterfly

The Purple Butterfly

March 15, 2011
6:30 p.m.
     She sits at her desk, hunched over her Algebra book, tears pouring from her eyes and splashing on the book, creating small puddles on the worn pages. She sobs over and over again, “Why? What’d I do? I’m such a monster!”
     She feels like nobody is left in the world to understand her, not now that her love has left her.
She takes a deep breath and looks around the room. Her eyes fall on the jacket she got from Damon Kold, her ex-boyfriend. The memories start to flood back as her eyes fill once again with tears. She remembers their anniversary just a few months ago, going to the Cheesecake Factory together followed by a beautiful moonlit walk down 4th avenue and seeing all the Christmas lights in the shop windows. She remembers his loving, warm embrace and his soft kisses. She begins to sob again as she remembers him taking her to the Dairy Queen and them sitting outside at one of those red tables with the big umbrellas, sharing an Oreo Brownie Earthquake and laughing together. She watches the memory helplessly as she sees Damon dip his finger in the vanilla ice cream and dot her nose with it. She remembers how she giggled as his warm tongue playfully licked the cold treat off of her nose.
     She sees them walking back to the car, hand in hand, arms swinging loosely, laughing and kissing, happy as can be. Suddenly, she is jarred from her mental memory bonds as her mother opens the door and bursts into the room, looking wildly around the room.
   “What have you been doing? I’ve been calling you for half an hour!” her mom says. Then, seeing her daughter’s tearstained face, Mrs. Prentice murmurs, “Honey? Sweetie, what’s wrong? What happened?”
     Olivia looks up at her mother and mutters, “Damon broke up with me today at school.”
     “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Prentice coos softly, kneeling down and hugging her daughter. “I know you loved him very much.”
     Pushing her mother away, Olivia says, “Loved?? Mom, I STILL love him. What choice do I have? He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. He’s my everything and he completed me. You just watch. He’ll be back. I just know it.”
     Olivia bursts into tears again, knowing that there’s not guarantee that her beloved Damon will ever come back to her. She bows her head and her black hair covers her face as she folds over her legs in her chair and sobs brokenly. Her mom, not knowing what else to do, rubs Olivia’s back and then rises to her feet.
     “I’ll get you a nice cup of mocha coffee and some chocolate chip cookies. Does that sound good to you sweetie?”
     “It doesn’t matter. It won’t bring my happiness back,” Olivia murmurs through her tears.
    The second her mother leaves the room, Olivia stands to her feet and shuts the door, locking it and then proceeding to throw a punch at the wooden wall and then toss herself on her bed, crying now in both internal and external agony. Her mother hears the loud THUMP as Olivia’s fist meets the wall.
     “Olivia? What happened? Olivia? Open this door this minute,” Mrs. Prentice says as she knocks on the locked door.
     “Just please go away,” Olivia moans. “I just want to be alone right now.”
     There’s a moment’s silence. Then the soft pitter patter of her mother walking away.
     Olivia sighs with this chance to get some time to be alone and think over what all has happened today.
    Looking at Damon’s jacket, Olivia remembers him approaching her at lunch earlier that day at school. She remembers him looking her in the eyes and telling her point blank that
     “I can’t be with you at the moment Olivia. I think we need to take a small break. I need some time to get my act together and get better. To be happier. I just need some time. Please give me that and don’t fight me on this this time. I promise I will come back for you when I’m better. When I feel ready.” He bent down and kissed her sweetly one last time, wiping away her tears, and whispering against her cheek, “I still love you. I will always love you, Olivia Nicole Prentice. I just need to get my head on straight so I can make you happy again like it was in the beginning. I’m sorry. I love you.”
     Then, without looking back, he’d turned and walked away quickly. But anyone who’d known Damon as long and as well as Olivia did could tell that he had been walking quickly so he could go somewhere to cry alone. His back had been hunched over and his stride was uneven. Almost like he was stumbling a bit. He was probably about as heartbroken by his decision as Olivia was.
     As Olivia remembers this, she snatches Damon’s jacket off of the chair by her bed and curls up with it in her arms, sobbing heavily into its soft fabric. Within minutes, she falls asleep like this, still curled up around the jacket, tears soaking her pale face.

March 16, 2011
6:15 a.m.
     BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
     Olivia awakens to the sound of her alarm clock blaring. She stretches and untangles herself from her blankets, which somehow wrapped themselves about her in the middle of the night. She’s still gripping Damon’s jacket. Her legs feel stiff and her head hurts. Her eyes feel dry and her throat hurts from all the crying she did the night before. Groggily, she rises to her feet and changes out of her wrinkled clothes into some clean clothes. Remembering that she no longer has anything to look forward to at school, Olivia pays no attention as to how she’s dressing. She pulls on a pair of worn and torn up jeans and a black muscle shirt. She brushes her hair, but does nothing with it. The only thing she does with her appearance is her makeup. But even that is dingy. She throws on some dark red lipstick and applies her black eyeliner thickly around her eyes. Then, as an afterthought, she draws gothic tears under her right eye, going from her eye down her cheek.
     Looking at herself in the mirror, she shrugs and sighs, knowing she looks like shit. But she can’t help it. As long as she’s depressed, she’s going to remain looking like shit.
     Suddenly, her mom calls from down the hall.
    “Yeah mom?” Olivia calls back, shutting off her light as she leaves her room. Walking down the hall, the squeaks of the old floorboards under her feet sound extremely loud and reverberating in her aching head.
     Holding her hand to the side of her head and squinting against the bright light as she steps into the kitchen, Olivia almost groans, “Hey mom. What is it?”
     “Oh honey. I was just calling you to let you know that I made you some breakfast,” Angelica Prentice says, smiling to her disheveled daughter.
     The steam rising off of the warm cinnamon rolls wafts the tantalizing smell of cinnamon and frosting under Olivia’s nose. Her mouth waters