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I look toward the ceiling, fearful to see into my captors eyes. I already know the color from when he persuaded me away from the safety of my friends during a gathering. Those eyes are brown, a lacking life shit brown, and I’m scared I will never see the light outside of this room again. “You are shivering Scar,” he reaches out to touch my shoulder, I jerk backwards, not letting his hand feel my fear. His nails are too long. There is dirt under the fingernails and I feel uncomfortable being this close to someone so truly unstable. The chill bumps rise again under my skin at the thought of those nasty fingers coming close to my thighs or anywhere else. “Only my friends are allowed to call me Scar,” I challenge him. “Why did you bring me here? What did you do to me while I was out cold?” I fight to get all the words out, to keep them from sticking in my throat. “You know I have wanted you forever. I believed you wanted me too at one time; you used to smile at me. I must have taken it wrong before, because at the party you showed your true intentions.” He thinks back to the party earlier that evening, thinks of me in my red dress, and wearing darker makeup than I have before. “I have loved you for years. You’ve completely ignored me. That is, until tonight, when you saw my changes. You were instantly attracted, lured completely into my arms within the first hour. Just admit it sweetie, you want me.” “If I had known it was you under those clothes and hair I wouldn’t have bothered being attracted or kissing you.” I blush at the memory earlier, thinking of his lips on mine. Then his lips are on mine again ready to take what doesn’t and could never belong to him. I feel his tongue push into my mouth and touch mine. It makes me feel woozy in the head as though I’ve drank too much alcohol. How could I possibly be attracted to this man? He has hurt me so many times regardless of how much he said he loved me. He’s only back to take from me again then leave, like all the other times. My head aches from where I fell to the floor earlier. I push him off of me and out of my mind and mouth.
she blushed deeply. “To tell the truth it has been so often called a charm that I was
There I am lying, I am awoken by a bright shimmering, yet quite bothering light, I slide to my right to find my angelic husband Demetrious, he was breathing softly and faintly, I wrap my arm around him onto his buff body, and his eyes stare at me gracefully, I come to acceptance and find myself thinking how this happened, from hopeless back then, to happiest I could be, and all because of one man, he made me feel gloomy like when we first met, his eyes would affectionately stare deep into your eyes. His bright personality brightened up my day, that one special day, the most beautiful day of day, it was a sunny, warm yet quite balanced day, everything was going normally, then carelessly out the corner he came, Demetrious, and one problem was that he liked my hearty, hysterical good friend Hermia. Hermia had a generous and gentle personality, she had beautiful eyes and I was very fondly jealous of her, she got all the cute, boys that I always admired, yet one day things unexpectedly turned the other way around.
Secret Window, Secret Garden The Secret Window “Books and movies are like apples and oranges. They both are fruit, but taste completely different” (Stephen King). The following Steven King quotes, relates to Kings driller Secret Window, Secret Garden and Koepp’s movie The Secret Window.
In loving you, I am slowly learning to love myself, something that has never happened before. I’m always so happy around you, my heart doesn’t feel heavy in your presence. My walls are completely down for you, being so vulnerable is a scary thought, though I know I can fully trust you to be there for me. In the past, I have given pieces of myself to people who did not deserve them, my heart to people who used me, looking for love in shallow places. From the moment I met you, I knew you were different. I could tell that you were a soft and sweet boy that wasn’t only with me for what I could do for you. You showed me that love can be pure and untainted with good intentions. I know I’m not the best girl in the world, but I’m always trying to be the best girl for you, doing my best to make you happy in the small things. My bed has never felt empty with just me in it before, though now when I sleep alone, it feels as though you should be next to me. I crave your warmth. There is no better way to wake up, than to wake up to your sleeping face, the handsome lines and curves of your skin that create the
"Ow...," I moan getting off the ground pressing my hands against my head "That's going to hurt later."
“I search for my mother’s face in the mirror and see a stranger.” The book, the Secret Daughter: A Mixed-Race Daughter and the Mother Who Gave Her Away was written by June Cross in 2006. The story is about a young woman who was born in 1954 to Norma Booth, a glamorous white actress, and James “Stump” Cross, a well-known black comedian. When she was around four years old, her mother sent her away to be raised by black friends because she could no longer “pass” as white. This story tells of her survival and her own fierce determination to thrive.
"You really could be more gentle," I rolled my eyes and took his hands off of
“Nope. You actually took me surprise for once. I’m utterly shocked.” You said sarcastically, looking back at him. You reached towards him, looking through his silly goggles into his dark eyes. He kissed you again, this time at a slightly more human pace. You ran your hand through his long silver hair, making him groan and pull back with a laugh.
"Don't you see now, Ally? You must learn to let things go. For a wound to heal, you mustn't touch it. Or else it will get infected."
Casually kneeling in between his spread legs, you laugh stiffly as you place the towel over his head and gently (quickly) towel him off. He gives a sincere smile (gorgeous) and you can't help but return it, shocked at how quickly you seem to have mended. Fear grips you as you realize that you may be too hopeful, and he's not really here for all the reasons you want him to be. Smile lost, you hastily try to retreat. He notices and grips your wrist, pulling you into his soaked chest and nuzzling into the crook of your neck and biting tenderly. You blush furiously and try to pull away, even if it's only to see his face.
" Where are you going, you slut. " he slurs. I feel him grab my legs and he pulls me back. My face is on the ground and my back is facing him. NO! Not again. I feel him grab my shorts and starts to pull them down. After they are off I try moving out of his hard grasps. But it was no use, he begins to pull down my underwear. His hands squeeze my hips, making sure I am still. I began to cry harder. I feel him
My eyes open. Still, I feel my heart rate swelling. My parents are dead, but my brother and sister are still with me. I take a glimpse at my sister. She never slept. I don’t blame her, despite the fact that both my parents frayed away right in front her eyes. My brother remained tranquil the entire time leading us to safety, to where we are now. Kayo is the oldest. He’s always been in charge to take care of us when my parents were continuously gone. Right now, the three of us are alone in a pit, it’s quiet, no sign of the opponent. Those people out there are cracked, insane. What do they want?
My mind wanders to a year earlier, a happier time, when we sat on this very same couch. I looked nervously in his eyes unable to hold my stare, unable to look away. I surrendered myself to the magic of love. I struggled to say the words "I love you" for the first time. But, soon thereafter, they came with an ease. He dominated my thoughts from the first time we touched, The little numerical codes on my pager of I love you, I miss you, and the voice mails of "Just thinking of you" and "Just wanted to say hi" gave me a sense of importance. My friends, f...