Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
I'm your horror story
Have you ever had a recurring nightmare? So has Lennie... I forgot I wrot this haha, let me know what you think so I know whether or not to write more :3
?Blocked
I’m your horror story
I raise my erratically shaking hand up to my head and entangle my spindly fingers into the long strands of my sweat drenched hair. I keep my haunted eyes squeezed tight shut and just breath.
In through the nose and out through the mouth.
In... Out...
In... Out...
The icy rain beats down hard against the dirty, cracked window pane of my small bedroom, sounding like I’m in the midst of a drumming war. The thunder cackles and roars against the walls of the outside world, begging for entrance, thrusting fear upon the weak.
A burst of light dances into my room for no longer than a blink of an eye, shortly followed by another deafening roar, but all these sounds do nothing to block out the sound of my heart crashing against my ribs, as if desperately trying to escape its confines and be on its own.
Nightmares.
Every night now for the past month, since I graduated from art school actually, this same nightmare repeats its self like a broken record going round and round in my head. It’s the most dreadful, stomach turning experience. They're these terrors, and, it feels as if someone’s gripping my throat, squeezing... these terrors.
It hurts.
Not just emotionally, no, but physically it stings and aches. Like someone has injected a highly corrosive acid into my blood stream and it slowly courses throughout my entire body, burning and itching with its blistering impact.
Then I get an Icy feeling around my neck, as if death is digging its claws into my throat, and I can’t breathe.
I awake with a scream and drenched in my own perspiration, rapidly gasping for breath and eagerly clawing at the nonexistent hand that I was certain was gripping my neck just seconds before.
But I feel nothing; nothing except the chilling, eerie breeze leaking in through my window, which I’m sure I shut before falling asleep last night. I glance at the digital clock that lies on my bedside table next to my dingy mattress that I sleep on instead of a bed in my diminutive bedroom of my miniscule apartment in New Jersey. As I said before I have just graduated so money is tight at the moment and there aren’t many jobs going for aspiring artists, but job hunting is on my list of things to do.
Anyway back to my alarm clock, which taunts me with its sickly neon blue numbering telling me its 3:02am... oh, the joy.
Well looks like I won’t be getting any more sleep tonight. I scrub my calloused hands over my face a couple times, my rough skin catching bits of sleep and left over makeup.
I attack the roots of my red hair with my fingers shaking it around and shagging it up a bit so it hangs insanely around all parts of my head. Next I put both of my arms to my right and grip the mattress and sheets menacingly before abruptly and harshly twisting my back as far to the right as it will allow, without dislocating or snapping, causing the sound of snapping and cracking to erupt and trail down my spine, I do the same to the other side then use my hands to twist my head and crack my neck, before snapping and popping each and every one of my fingers. Once my morning wake up ritual is completed I stand up from my mattress and lock my fingers together pushing them far away from my body and getting the satisfying snaps I set out to achieve.
Clad in only my black boy shorts and smashing pumpkins tee I trudge out of my bedroom and into the kitchen snapping on the light as I walk past it.
“Mother fucker!” I rasp out loud as I’m momentarily but painfully blinded by the harshness that is my kitchen light. When my eyes have adjusted I glance around at my newly bought apartment, it’s definitely a fixer upper. The kitchen, which has been recently refurbished by me and my friend Taylor, consists of dark wood flooring; gray cupboard fronts whilst having dark wood sides and shelves. The island in the middle of the kitchen is also purple with an alcohol holder in one side and shelves in the other. Above the island is a pan wrack and the entire kitchen is decked out with gray bench tops (including the island). All of my appliances, like my fridge-freezer, microwave, oven, toaster etc, are all silver and a small plant my mother got me as a 'house warming' gift lingers in the corner withering because of neglect.
If you turn your back to the kitchen you face the living room. You have to descend two cream carpeted steps which surround my living room enclosing it into a ditch, to enter the also cream carpeted said room where you will find two soft white couches which I received as a gift from my grandmother and a flat screen TV which I took from my old room at my parents house and a glass coffee table which is littered with used coffee mugs and newspapers. Speaking of coffee... that sounds better than an orgasm right about now.
I drag my bare feet over to my coffee maker and turn it on.
I sit on one off the high bar chairs I have situated around the island and prop my head up on my hand with my elbow resting on the counter top I start to feel drowsy and as sleep consumes me I see an image of his sinister eyes flash into my head, jolting me awake. I fling my head from side to side searching the room for him but coming up with nothing.
Fuck it.
I walk to my bathroom and open the squeaky mirrored medicine cabinet I have situated above the sink and grab one of the many drums of pills I have. And no they aren’t prescribed or over the counter... I know a guy.
I twist the cap off and dump two of the little pink tablets into the palm of my hand and chuck them to the back of my throat and dry swallow.
I take the meds to get rid of the nightmares, they haven't worked yet but the guy assures me it takes a few weeks for them to kick in properly, then after that I’ll just feel numb, I can’t wait.
I go back to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee before plunking my skinny ass down on the couch and picking up yesterday’s forgotten paper. I flip straight through to the job section and pick up my red pen, playing with the end of it in my mouth.
Okay,
number one: Burlesque dancer- Yeah right! Like I would get up on stage and dance around in my underwear(I'll keep that shit to th privacy of my home).
Number two: High school secretary- Fucking hate teenagers, they scare the shit out of me.
Number three: Personal maid- I can’t even clean up my own mess, never mind someone else's. Is what I think- giving my apartment a once over taking in the take out cartons and vodka bottles that litter my floor, the old cobwebs dangling in the corners of my ceiling, the window panes- cracked and layered with dust and grime. I huff a laugh and go back to the job search.
Number four: Starbucks waitress- hmm, not bad,
I circle that one and skim through the rest.
Most are boring like 'dog walker' or 'florist assistant' others are stuff I could never do like 'assistant for animal testing lab' or 'lighthouse keeper'.
I’m about to give up when a small add catches my eye.
'Barnes & Noble bookshop,
Must have good customer service skills,
Be willing to listen,
have a good knowledge of books
please call 555-012-7796 for further information
or apply within.'
I’m not sure why I didn’t see it before but ah well. I love books and I just feel drawn to it. I’ll go later on, when it’s open. I glance at the clock hanging on my wall and notice its 5am. Still early but because its summer the sun is just starting to break through. Okay so plan for today:
1. Shower (don't wash hair)
2. Get ready and dressed
3. Eat something
4. Go for run
5. Come home and shower again (wash hair)
6. Get ready in smart casual clothes
7. Go to Barnes and Noble to apply for job
8. Go see Taylor
9. Get drunk with Taylor
Sorted!
So I jumped into the shower, got out and threw my fire truck red hair into a messy pony tail making a mental note to make a trip to the hair dressers as it now reaches my hip bones. I drop my towel and saunter over to my wardrobe. I can’t help but feel I’m being watched. The feeling creeps over me like its attacking me in slow motion. I pick my towel back up and wrap it securely around my body, that's weird, I always walk around my house naked without a problem, the fact that know I feel I can’t, irks me a little. Any way I put on my red and black matching bra and panties and slide into my gray jogger bottoms with a black sports bra and a hoodie along with my running sneakers and a black New York Yankees cap. I fill my water bottle up, plug my headphones into my ears, blast the sweet sound of 'the misfits- last caress' and bounce out of the door.
I run down the street, out into the main street, along a few side roads and finally make it to the largest park in Belleville. I enter the park just as 'Green Day's 'American Idiot' begins and sprint off into the large forest. The park is deserted considering it’s only like 6am but I like it that way. I exit the forest and enter the clearing. The sun is fully out now and it’s beating down onto the grassed, clear area... it peaceful.
I unzip my hoodie, exposing my pale but toned stomach and use it as a pillow as I fall backwards onto the grass and close my eyes just letting the feeling of warmth spill over my exposed skin. I reach into my back pocket for my Marlborough gold's, put it to my lips, spark up while taking in a deep breath, then letting go of the cloudy poison and watch it danc through the sky.
Life couldn’t be better.
But there it is again, that sickly feeling of being watched, I raise my arm up to my head to block the sun light from my view and peak through my right eye. Not seeing anything I open both eyes and sweep them round the entire clearing, still not seeing anything. I stand up and tie my hoodie around my waist, dumping my cigarette to the ground; I stand still and just... listen.
I block out the sounds of nature and listen for something caused by another being... that's when I heard the exhale of breath that didn’t belong to me and the snapping of a twig. I spring into action. I pounce at super speed in the direction of the noise and follow it into to forest. Dodging trees and jumping over logs, desperate to find out who or what was watching me but after running in what seemed like circles for about twenty minutes I have to stop to catch my breath, whatever it was gone now, but I know it wasn't because I could still feel its eyes on me. I know its an 'it' now because it takes some freaking super human to out run me, so there's no way it could be an ordinary human.
I walk through my front door and lock the door behind me and hang the keys up on the hook placed right next to the door frame. I dump my water bottle on the counter top and plug my iPod into the dock and blast 'Mindless Self Indulgence's 'IF' album while I go into the shower again to get ready for Barnes & Noble.
Clad in black skinny jeans, a plain black tee, my black leather jacket with my black vans and my black Ray Bans covering my heavily lined eyes I walk down the street looking colorful (please sense my sarcasm); Starbucks caramel macchiato in hand and cell phone in the other texting Taylor about the job having her take the piss out of 'me' working in a 'book store'.
I throw my cell in my pocket and walk towards the front of the store where the desk is located. There's no one there so I ding the bell on top of the counter and turn my back to it glancing around the store.
“Can I help you miss?”
I am startled by a man’s voice sounding suddenly from behind me and jump, spinning around.
I am met by a young man with shaggy blonde, shoulder length hair who desperately needs a shave. He's smiling but his teeth withhold a yellowish tinge of rot and he smells worse than a decaying fish. His eyelids are heavy and his pupils are small which leads me to wonder what he just smoked on his break.
His drug saturated eyes scan me up and down and he smirks... perv.
“erm, yeah are you the manager?” I ask scowling a little behind my glasses.
“Baby for you, I'll be anything you want” he says leaning closer to me over the counter and winking.
This guy is a total creep, so I do something I’ve only had to do once in one other situation, something my good friend Taylor taught me and I prayed to God it works. I lent closer to him, grinning like a minx and twisting my long, red, wavy hair round my finger. I pasted on a flirty face and giggled, and then I mustered up a stinking burp and blew it slowly into his face. I couldn’t help but smirk mischievously through the entire performance. He looks at me disgusted and moves back away from me.
Success!
“Yo Mikes, little lady here's lookin' for ya'” He yells over his right shoulder while waving his hand towards me blindly.
I notice a dark haired, lanky figure walking towards us carrying a stack of books. He’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans with a crisp white shirt hanging out of the waist of his pants with his top two buttons undone so he looks unruly, as if its been a long day. The creep walks over to 'Mikes' before he reaches the counter taking the books from him and whispering something to the lanky man, though it inaudible to me, it causes 'Mikes' to glace over to me and chuckle.
“Hi, I'm Mikey and I’m the manager of this wonderful store, how can I help you ma'am?” He asks entwining his hand together on the desk top.
“Well first hi, my name is Lennie Vatolli and I’m 20 years old. I saw your add for the position in the paper and I’m here to apply.” I say cheerily with my million dollar smile plastered to my face.
“And have you any experience with working in a book store?” he asks cocking an eyebrow, as if challenging me.
“No, but I have tons with books, and I worked in Starbucks when I lived back in Missouri and I had a part time job in hot topic when I was in art school so that covers the customer service part.”
He seems to be considering what I just told him and then he hits me with the twenty question lightening round;
“What’s your favorite type of book?”
“I prefer comics, but I love fantasy novels too.”
“Marvel or DC?”
“Dark horse, so much cooler.”
“Favorite author?”
“ Stephen King or Irvine Welsh”
“You're hired!” he exclaims sticking his hand out for me to shake.
“Woah! Really? Dude, thank you so much!” I exclaim taking his hand and shaking it.
Still holding onto his hand I reach up to my glasses with my other hand and remove them from my eyes as to lock eyes with his and he takes one look into my green orbs.
He suddenly rags his hand back from mine and stumbles as far away from me as possible keeping his eyes glued to the floor.
“Hey, you alright man?” I ask tilting my head to the side.
“Y-yeah, I'm f-fine. Erm... here's a sheet with the um... the err, rules and stuff. I guess I'll uh, se-see you t-tomorrow.” and with that he stalks off, still keeping his eyes locked to the floor.
What the fuck?
Sooooo? What'd you guys think? I really, really need to know because I'm already writing like 3 other stories so I need to know if this is worth continuing :)
Gianormous shout out to my favourite author and favorite girl in the entire world CrimsonRevenge (or as I know her Paigey-Piee!!)
she proof-read analysed and edited this chapter so big thanks paige :)
And you guys seriously need to check her story 'Awake and Unafraid' out it's my all time favourite story ever! Its pulled me out of so many dark places, it my 'go to feel good' story, it's beautifully written, and constantly has you on the edge of your seat and makes you feel a whole array of emotions all at once, so you may be a hormonal mess by the time you finish reading, but trust me when I tell you it is fucking worth it!
*]
[*So thank you again Paige and please rate and review guys, thanks and bye :)
*]
[*T xoxo
I raise my erratically shaking hand up to my head and entangle my spindly fingers into the long strands of my sweat drenched hair. I keep my haunted eyes squeezed tight shut and just breath.
In through the nose and out through the mouth.
In... Out...
In... Out...
The icy rain beats down hard against the dirty, cracked window pane of my small bedroom, sounding like I’m in the midst of a drumming war. The thunder cackles and roars against the walls of the outside world, begging for entrance, thrusting fear upon the weak.
A burst of light dances into my room for no longer than a blink of an eye, shortly followed by another deafening roar, but all these sounds do nothing to block out the sound of my heart crashing against my ribs, as if desperately trying to escape its confines and be on its own.
Nightmares.
Every night now for the past month, since I graduated from art school actually, this same nightmare repeats its self like a broken record going round and round in my head. It’s the most dreadful, stomach turning experience. They're these terrors, and, it feels as if someone’s gripping my throat, squeezing... these terrors.
It hurts.
Not just emotionally, no, but physically it stings and aches. Like someone has injected a highly corrosive acid into my blood stream and it slowly courses throughout my entire body, burning and itching with its blistering impact.
Then I get an Icy feeling around my neck, as if death is digging its claws into my throat, and I can’t breathe.
I awake with a scream and drenched in my own perspiration, rapidly gasping for breath and eagerly clawing at the nonexistent hand that I was certain was gripping my neck just seconds before.
But I feel nothing; nothing except the chilling, eerie breeze leaking in through my window, which I’m sure I shut before falling asleep last night. I glance at the digital clock that lies on my bedside table next to my dingy mattress that I sleep on instead of a bed in my diminutive bedroom of my miniscule apartment in New Jersey. As I said before I have just graduated so money is tight at the moment and there aren’t many jobs going for aspiring artists, but job hunting is on my list of things to do.
Anyway back to my alarm clock, which taunts me with its sickly neon blue numbering telling me its 3:02am... oh, the joy.
Well looks like I won’t be getting any more sleep tonight. I scrub my calloused hands over my face a couple times, my rough skin catching bits of sleep and left over makeup.
I attack the roots of my red hair with my fingers shaking it around and shagging it up a bit so it hangs insanely around all parts of my head. Next I put both of my arms to my right and grip the mattress and sheets menacingly before abruptly and harshly twisting my back as far to the right as it will allow, without dislocating or snapping, causing the sound of snapping and cracking to erupt and trail down my spine, I do the same to the other side then use my hands to twist my head and crack my neck, before snapping and popping each and every one of my fingers. Once my morning wake up ritual is completed I stand up from my mattress and lock my fingers together pushing them far away from my body and getting the satisfying snaps I set out to achieve.
Clad in only my black boy shorts and smashing pumpkins tee I trudge out of my bedroom and into the kitchen snapping on the light as I walk past it.
“Mother fucker!” I rasp out loud as I’m momentarily but painfully blinded by the harshness that is my kitchen light. When my eyes have adjusted I glance around at my newly bought apartment, it’s definitely a fixer upper. The kitchen, which has been recently refurbished by me and my friend Taylor, consists of dark wood flooring; gray cupboard fronts whilst having dark wood sides and shelves. The island in the middle of the kitchen is also purple with an alcohol holder in one side and shelves in the other. Above the island is a pan wrack and the entire kitchen is decked out with gray bench tops (including the island). All of my appliances, like my fridge-freezer, microwave, oven, toaster etc, are all silver and a small plant my mother got me as a 'house warming' gift lingers in the corner withering because of neglect.
If you turn your back to the kitchen you face the living room. You have to descend two cream carpeted steps which surround my living room enclosing it into a ditch, to enter the also cream carpeted said room where you will find two soft white couches which I received as a gift from my grandmother and a flat screen TV which I took from my old room at my parents house and a glass coffee table which is littered with used coffee mugs and newspapers. Speaking of coffee... that sounds better than an orgasm right about now.
I drag my bare feet over to my coffee maker and turn it on.
I sit on one off the high bar chairs I have situated around the island and prop my head up on my hand with my elbow resting on the counter top I start to feel drowsy and as sleep consumes me I see an image of his sinister eyes flash into my head, jolting me awake. I fling my head from side to side searching the room for him but coming up with nothing.
Fuck it.
I walk to my bathroom and open the squeaky mirrored medicine cabinet I have situated above the sink and grab one of the many drums of pills I have. And no they aren’t prescribed or over the counter... I know a guy.
I twist the cap off and dump two of the little pink tablets into the palm of my hand and chuck them to the back of my throat and dry swallow.
I take the meds to get rid of the nightmares, they haven't worked yet but the guy assures me it takes a few weeks for them to kick in properly, then after that I’ll just feel numb, I can’t wait.
I go back to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee before plunking my skinny ass down on the couch and picking up yesterday’s forgotten paper. I flip straight through to the job section and pick up my red pen, playing with the end of it in my mouth.
Okay,
number one: Burlesque dancer- Yeah right! Like I would get up on stage and dance around in my underwear(I'll keep that shit to th privacy of my home).
Number two: High school secretary- Fucking hate teenagers, they scare the shit out of me.
Number three: Personal maid- I can’t even clean up my own mess, never mind someone else's. Is what I think- giving my apartment a once over taking in the take out cartons and vodka bottles that litter my floor, the old cobwebs dangling in the corners of my ceiling, the window panes- cracked and layered with dust and grime. I huff a laugh and go back to the job search.
Number four: Starbucks waitress- hmm, not bad,
I circle that one and skim through the rest.
Most are boring like 'dog walker' or 'florist assistant' others are stuff I could never do like 'assistant for animal testing lab' or 'lighthouse keeper'.
I’m about to give up when a small add catches my eye.
'Barnes & Noble bookshop,
Must have good customer service skills,
Be willing to listen,
have a good knowledge of books
please call 555-012-7796 for further information
or apply within.'
I’m not sure why I didn’t see it before but ah well. I love books and I just feel drawn to it. I’ll go later on, when it’s open. I glance at the clock hanging on my wall and notice its 5am. Still early but because its summer the sun is just starting to break through. Okay so plan for today:
1. Shower (don't wash hair)
2. Get ready and dressed
3. Eat something
4. Go for run
5. Come home and shower again (wash hair)
6. Get ready in smart casual clothes
7. Go to Barnes and Noble to apply for job
8. Go see Taylor
9. Get drunk with Taylor
Sorted!
So I jumped into the shower, got out and threw my fire truck red hair into a messy pony tail making a mental note to make a trip to the hair dressers as it now reaches my hip bones. I drop my towel and saunter over to my wardrobe. I can’t help but feel I’m being watched. The feeling creeps over me like its attacking me in slow motion. I pick my towel back up and wrap it securely around my body, that's weird, I always walk around my house naked without a problem, the fact that know I feel I can’t, irks me a little. Any way I put on my red and black matching bra and panties and slide into my gray jogger bottoms with a black sports bra and a hoodie along with my running sneakers and a black New York Yankees cap. I fill my water bottle up, plug my headphones into my ears, blast the sweet sound of 'the misfits- last caress' and bounce out of the door.
I run down the street, out into the main street, along a few side roads and finally make it to the largest park in Belleville. I enter the park just as 'Green Day's 'American Idiot' begins and sprint off into the large forest. The park is deserted considering it’s only like 6am but I like it that way. I exit the forest and enter the clearing. The sun is fully out now and it’s beating down onto the grassed, clear area... it peaceful.
I unzip my hoodie, exposing my pale but toned stomach and use it as a pillow as I fall backwards onto the grass and close my eyes just letting the feeling of warmth spill over my exposed skin. I reach into my back pocket for my Marlborough gold's, put it to my lips, spark up while taking in a deep breath, then letting go of the cloudy poison and watch it danc through the sky.
Life couldn’t be better.
But there it is again, that sickly feeling of being watched, I raise my arm up to my head to block the sun light from my view and peak through my right eye. Not seeing anything I open both eyes and sweep them round the entire clearing, still not seeing anything. I stand up and tie my hoodie around my waist, dumping my cigarette to the ground; I stand still and just... listen.
I block out the sounds of nature and listen for something caused by another being... that's when I heard the exhale of breath that didn’t belong to me and the snapping of a twig. I spring into action. I pounce at super speed in the direction of the noise and follow it into to forest. Dodging trees and jumping over logs, desperate to find out who or what was watching me but after running in what seemed like circles for about twenty minutes I have to stop to catch my breath, whatever it was gone now, but I know it wasn't because I could still feel its eyes on me. I know its an 'it' now because it takes some freaking super human to out run me, so there's no way it could be an ordinary human.
I walk through my front door and lock the door behind me and hang the keys up on the hook placed right next to the door frame. I dump my water bottle on the counter top and plug my iPod into the dock and blast 'Mindless Self Indulgence's 'IF' album while I go into the shower again to get ready for Barnes & Noble.
Clad in black skinny jeans, a plain black tee, my black leather jacket with my black vans and my black Ray Bans covering my heavily lined eyes I walk down the street looking colorful (please sense my sarcasm); Starbucks caramel macchiato in hand and cell phone in the other texting Taylor about the job having her take the piss out of 'me' working in a 'book store'.
I throw my cell in my pocket and walk towards the front of the store where the desk is located. There's no one there so I ding the bell on top of the counter and turn my back to it glancing around the store.
“Can I help you miss?”
I am startled by a man’s voice sounding suddenly from behind me and jump, spinning around.
I am met by a young man with shaggy blonde, shoulder length hair who desperately needs a shave. He's smiling but his teeth withhold a yellowish tinge of rot and he smells worse than a decaying fish. His eyelids are heavy and his pupils are small which leads me to wonder what he just smoked on his break.
His drug saturated eyes scan me up and down and he smirks... perv.
“erm, yeah are you the manager?” I ask scowling a little behind my glasses.
“Baby for you, I'll be anything you want” he says leaning closer to me over the counter and winking.
This guy is a total creep, so I do something I’ve only had to do once in one other situation, something my good friend Taylor taught me and I prayed to God it works. I lent closer to him, grinning like a minx and twisting my long, red, wavy hair round my finger. I pasted on a flirty face and giggled, and then I mustered up a stinking burp and blew it slowly into his face. I couldn’t help but smirk mischievously through the entire performance. He looks at me disgusted and moves back away from me.
Success!
“Yo Mikes, little lady here's lookin' for ya'” He yells over his right shoulder while waving his hand towards me blindly.
I notice a dark haired, lanky figure walking towards us carrying a stack of books. He’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans with a crisp white shirt hanging out of the waist of his pants with his top two buttons undone so he looks unruly, as if its been a long day. The creep walks over to 'Mikes' before he reaches the counter taking the books from him and whispering something to the lanky man, though it inaudible to me, it causes 'Mikes' to glace over to me and chuckle.
“Hi, I'm Mikey and I’m the manager of this wonderful store, how can I help you ma'am?” He asks entwining his hand together on the desk top.
“Well first hi, my name is Lennie Vatolli and I’m 20 years old. I saw your add for the position in the paper and I’m here to apply.” I say cheerily with my million dollar smile plastered to my face.
“And have you any experience with working in a book store?” he asks cocking an eyebrow, as if challenging me.
“No, but I have tons with books, and I worked in Starbucks when I lived back in Missouri and I had a part time job in hot topic when I was in art school so that covers the customer service part.”
He seems to be considering what I just told him and then he hits me with the twenty question lightening round;
“What’s your favorite type of book?”
“I prefer comics, but I love fantasy novels too.”
“Marvel or DC?”
“Dark horse, so much cooler.”
“Favorite author?”
“ Stephen King or Irvine Welsh”
“You're hired!” he exclaims sticking his hand out for me to shake.
“Woah! Really? Dude, thank you so much!” I exclaim taking his hand and shaking it.
Still holding onto his hand I reach up to my glasses with my other hand and remove them from my eyes as to lock eyes with his and he takes one look into my green orbs.
He suddenly rags his hand back from mine and stumbles as far away from me as possible keeping his eyes glued to the floor.
“Hey, you alright man?” I ask tilting my head to the side.
“Y-yeah, I'm f-fine. Erm... here's a sheet with the um... the err, rules and stuff. I guess I'll uh, se-see you t-tomorrow.” and with that he stalks off, still keeping his eyes locked to the floor.
What the fuck?
Sooooo? What'd you guys think? I really, really need to know because I'm already writing like 3 other stories so I need to know if this is worth continuing :)
Gianormous shout out to my favourite author and favorite girl in the entire world CrimsonRevenge (or as I know her Paigey-Piee!!)
she proof-read analysed and edited this chapter so big thanks paige :)
And you guys seriously need to check her story 'Awake and Unafraid' out it's my all time favourite story ever! Its pulled me out of so many dark places, it my 'go to feel good' story, it's beautifully written, and constantly has you on the edge of your seat and makes you feel a whole array of emotions all at once, so you may be a hormonal mess by the time you finish reading, but trust me when I tell you it is fucking worth it!
*]
[*So thank you again Paige and please rate and review guys, thanks and bye :)
*]
[*T xoxo
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