One in the Same - Alexis L. Thompson (children's ebooks online TXT) 📗

on her mind.
The bus had come and brought her to school. An unbearable hell hole. Walking through the doors was like letting a hammer hit you right in between the eyes. Passing by used to be friends and bitter enemy's to get to her locker was even more unbearable than the school itself. Kids pushed and shoved through, not noticing her even as nonhuman as she looked. Or did they just really steer clear thinking in a single glance they could catch the addiction?
First Period, math 11, anyone could pass it. She even had a 90 in it. She didn't care.
There was too much more consuming her thoughts. Second period, English. She stays quiet. careful not to talk and let something unfit for the class slip passed her lips. Lunch. She sat there with a tray of food. She wanted to eat. She desperately needed to eat but if she tried to eat she would just get sick and be brought back to square one. Not worth it. Third period, art. No more elaborate colors. No more Hues of blues and yellows. Just grays and blacks and little effort. A few just noticeable tear stains. fourth period. A chance. An escape. A study hall. She stayed for attendance and filled out a Teacher pass. The study hall monitor allowed her to go with no question and no intention of calling the teacher she was 'visiting'.
Walking to the far end of the school, she carefully left out of the single door in the back. She walked to a friend. An older friend. About twice her age. He gladly let her in knowing what she was here for and what he would get in return. A little baggie sat on the coffee table in his living room. She shook tremendously and he smiled. The usual. An hour and a half of her body, whatever he wanted with it and ten dollars. she payed half her duty upfront. Okay, now for the ten. Forgotten. Only three dollars. What now? Of course no ten no baggie. She shook even worse. She needed it. She couldn't live with out it physically or mentally. Anyways, Why would she want to live her hellish life sober? He looked at her with very little remorse. He gave in and let her take enough for a buzz. Not nearly enough to last her.
She left and went home quickly. School had just gotten out so she was right on schedule. As soon as she walked through the doors of her house she felt relief. Mom wouldn't be home for an hour and dad for two.
She went to her bathroom and set up her lines. Very small lines. It wouldn't do much. There were no more Rx bottles to finish off either. She shook worse than ever. Starting to breath heavily, she fell too her knees. All hope was gone for her. she cried and screamed until she couldn't take it anymore.
Seeing the razor sitting on the sink, She disassembled it and took one razor. She couldn't live without the drugs. What other option was there?
Cutting across her wrists until she felt faint. A different kind of faint. Haze. What would mom say? What would dad say? The kids at school? Too late to wonder..... black.

A Voiceless Fairytale

Once upon a time, there lived a young girl. She was a happy young girl who loved to sing and sing and sing. When she sang, everyone wanted to hear her so she would sing for the town.
One day the young girl went for a walk in the forest. On her walk she found a beautiful garden full of every flower she could think of. “Oh, how pretty.” she said. “I must bring flowers back to my mother.” She picked one of each flower. They were all so unique and pretty.
Just then, an old woman popped out from behind a well. “What do you think you’re doing picking my flowers?” the woman said. “You will pay for this!” So the woman cast a spell on the young girl. “Now you shall not have a voice until you stumble upon true loves kiss.” The girl tried to speak but she couldn’t. She tried to sing but she couldn’t. The girl went home and silently cried. What would she do without her beautiful voice?
Days went by and the girl was still silent. She spent her days cleaning the house and working outside. Today she was working on the vegetable garden when a handsome young man went by on his horse. The girl stopped what she was doing and stared at him. He caught sight of her and stared back. He turned his horse around to meet her. “Good evening.” He said “I’m Daniel. What’s your name?” The girl shook her head. She shrugged her shoulders. Then she got an idea. She quickly ran into the house and grabbed a paper and pencil. She rushed back out and wrote on the paper. Her note said, There’s a spell on me. I can’t talk. Now the young man understood. He stayed a while to talk to the girl and by sunset he had to go.
As the days went on, he visited the girl every day. He would talk and she would write. In the old lady’s crystal ball, she saw what was happening between the two and sent her daisies after the young man so she could lock him up and keep him from the young lady. The daisies went to find the young man.
When the daises found the two of them, the daisies attacked. They attacked the young man. Then they took the young girl. The young man chased them down and caught them. One by one, he pulled off their petals. The daisies ran home screaming, bald.
The young girl was so grateful. The young man could tell. He leaned over and kissed her. “I love you.” he said. “And I love you.” The young girl said. And they lived happily ever after.


Link


Being me isn't easy. It never was. It never will be. People have their own beliefs and that's okay but why harass somebody about who they are? Why judge them by the way they feel towards someone? My name is Link Andrews and this is my story.
At a young age I knew I was different. At recess I would play house and dollies with the girls while the other boys played with cars and legos. Nobody thought anything of it when we were in kindergarten. Only my parents felt suspicious. they would try t get me to play with trains and stuff like that. I wanted the newest baby doll on the shelf. I was a special kid, no doubt.
By fifth grade I was best friends with two of the girls in my class. I didn't really talk to the boys. They were mean and constantly calling me names like fag boy and gay face. I didn't know what they meant but it still hurt my feelings. I was much more sensitive like the other guys in my school. the bullying didn't stop. It continued all the way through middle school until eighth grade. That's when I first tried to disappear from this world. I had tried to kill myself, sure but hey, I didn't die. All the Vicedon in my stomach was pumped out and I was on suicide watch for a good six months.
When I went back to school, people were dead silent around me. Even my two best friends had a hard time talking to me for a while. It took them a good two weeks to even speak twenty words to me. Eventually they warmed back up to me.
Ninth grade year came around and I started realizing how different I really was. I had my first crush. Man was he beautiful.
He had ice blue eyes, soft looking skin, thick, blonde, wavy hair, and a killer voice. He sang high tenor in the choir and boy, could he sing. He was an angel. No. He was a god. He also was on the football team. Top lineman on the team. His name was Adam and he was perfect.
Anyways, we got to talking. He was so nice to me. We were best friends after a while and I thought I knew him well enough to trust him. So I tried to talk my way into the question I wanted to ask. "Adam?", I started. "Yeah?", He replied. I was really scared and excited to ask him how he felt. But I started like this: "Have you ever..... Do you think being gay is wrong?" He looked at me for a second. "No but I think it's kind of gross. Don't you think?" I could have stood my ground, admitted everything. Instead, I chickened out with a big fat "Yeah"
For a while after that, Adam and I stopped talking almost completely. I don't know why but it made me feel really bad. I was depressed. That's when I got into cutting.
I thought it would kill me fast. It didn't. Instead I lived. It made me feel good. the blood pulsing from my veins. It was wonderful. Until my mom found out. That sucked. It was back to counseling for me. I'm still going to counseling. Not to say I don't need it. I do. I'm just not happy about it.
At the beginning of my tenth grade year, I was quiet. I wore all black and I was pale from the lack of sun. I tried to survive through the lectures and the lunches. It was difficult. I didn't talk to people in school. Instead I met people in chat rooms online. One person in particular was Jake.
Straight out, I knew he was gay. He talked like it through his typing and acted like it through video chats. We got along great. He was my first boyfriend and I though I loved him. I really did. I thought he was my forever love. Well, internet relationships don't ever really end up too good. We slowly just stopped talking. The last thing he said to me was: "This isn't working out. I don't think we should talk anymore." Harsh. I was hurt but I should have known it wouldn't work.
By my eleventh grade year, I was close to out. I told my closest girlfriend about the boy I dated online. She was so excited, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. I saved my reputation though. That is until mid year. That's when I met Taylor through the music program. He was a new student at our school. He was a bass in the choir.
He was crazy hot. Nice toned muscles and shoulder length,