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Donate to Nifty! -Peridot Chapter 1
I'm your typical teen, sixteen, five feet seven inches tall. I get up every day and look in the mirror and some days I'm ok with how I look and other days I'm not really impressed. Today happened to be one of those days where I wasn't impressed. Not in the slightest; cue the coming of age clich‚.
"Come on Samuel, you're gonna be late for school again!" that shrilly voice is my older sister, she takes care of me; she's exactly ten years older than I am and we even share the same birthday. (I guess you could call it planned parenting wink wink)
"I'll be down in five minutes!" I yelled back returning to the mirror; the eyes gazing back were sky blue, an airy quality hung about them. My hair however, held no such fabulousness, it just hung there, limp to my face, it was almost shoulder length though; I quickly swept it up into a ponytail and rushed downstairs.
"Took you long enough." Jess looked at me expectantly; her long dark hair was up as well, swaying like a wind chime behind her. She grabbed her keys and headed out, I lingered behind, knowing she'd have a problem with something sooner or later. Pausing, crossing her arms and looking at me her brows furrowed.
"What is it?" I decided to challenge her as I walked to shotgun.
"Where's your mother's necklace dude?" we both turned to see Evan walking towards us. He's my bestfriend, the cutest guy I know; he has this beautiful heart-shaped face, Cupid's bow lips and these burning almond eyes that gave his tan skin a golden quality. He always seems to be glowing.
"The chain broke... so, unless one of you wants to get it repaired for me, can we get to where we're going?" I gave her the smuggest look I could muster; fishing the chain from my pocket, I dropped it in her outstretched palm and slid into the car.
"Now that this mystery has been solved can we get in the car?" Jess looked across the car at Evan, then at me sitting comfortably.
"I don't know, I'm still pretty iffy. Somethin' doesn't feel right." She squinted looking about, surveying the neighbourhood with her hands akimbo.
"Girl, shush." Dragging himself over to her, Evan pushed her into the car and sat behind her.
About twenty or so minutes later we bailed out, she headed off to work and we headed into the hallowed halls of our decrepit high school. It's exactly what they stereotyped it to be; I don't really have any special talents outside of art. I don't showcase anything beyond it; I don't like attention, not now anyways.
"I really wish you wouldn't start brooding the moment we enter this place. You do know that blondes have the most fun right?" I looked at Evan, cracked a smile then walked away to my first period class.
Being mid-October the winter chill was setting in and I for one was happy that we had to suffer through gym in the Gymnasium. I hate the locker room; I try to change quickly into my shorts and t-shirt. There are a few jocks in class and honestly, they're hot but they can be real assholes. I'm not ashamed of my body but it's nothing to run home and brag about. I was focusing on lacing up my shoes when the locker above me slammed shut. If eyes could speak, mine probably dropped an F-bomb. Or I rolled them.
Probably rolled them straight into Adele's deep.
"Hey fag..." Logan, the captain of the basketball team, decided it was time to annoy me. It's pretty obvious that he's suffering from some deeply-seated internalized homophobia.
"Hello Logan." I sound as cheery as possible, with the most disgusted expression on my face. I'm annoyed with myself for finding him hot. He leans down, I can feel his warm breath on my ear; there goes that chill up my spine. I quickly look around, evidently no one ever sees this, and no one ever sees him reaching over me, pressing a growing dick into my back.
"You want this big cock?" he whispers to me so seductively, I crave to say no but my body; it's a fucking clich‚. I get up and grind my ass into him, momentarily losing myself to him. "You want me to fuck you right here, don't ya?."
That snapped me out of my daze, I managed to outsmart my body. I feel a parade coming on. I sat on the bleachers as my classmates filled out the court. It was a little chilly but I was just happy to be away from Logan.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear; he stepped out, I'm sometimes overwhelmed by how tall he is. If he could grow one more inch he would be an exact foot taller than me, but that's not what's sexy, it's his body. He's lean and so graceful in his movements. On the court he's a cheetah and the gazelle, he embodies the hunt so effortlessly with those strong cheekbones and dazzling emerald eyes. God... I was painfully hard at this point, the way he ran his hand through his short brown hair and smiled absentmindedly at his comrades.
Insert sigh here
The bulge in his shorts had my eyes swinging like a pendulum. I looked up and he caught me staring. He mouthed the word 'fag' to me and it didn't help my present hardness. I just looked away and waited for the coach to punish us with some annoying warm up.
The shrill whistle crashed my train of thought. "Get in pairs ladies! You know what do!" his voice was not at all easy on the ear; like nails in a blender, I was two yells away from an auditory haemorrhage. I quickly went beside Charlie, a ginger I was friendly with but we weren't close friends. He was heavy-set but not fat, he was a mountain of muscle towering above me, not nearly as tall as Logan, but he was up there with the giants; making jogging with him super easy.
"Hey Sam." He blushes real easy. Like, weirdly easy. I don't know if I flirt with him but our conversations usually end up with me listening to him talk about games and shows and occasionally I respond with something more than a monosyllabic auto-response.
"Hey Charlie, you look different." His hair was cut differently. He looked really cute to be honest. "I love what you've done with your hair..." I breathed as we made it around the gym; I only barely noticed that he had stopped running. He looked at me hard then caught up.
"Did you really mean that?" his eyes were an 'ok' shade of blue, but his hair, aside from the bright redness that usually haunted his head, there were streaks of a complimenting blonde shade I had never asked about or noticed. He was waiting for me to answer.
"I wouldn't have said it otherwise." I looked at him and blinked, we were both sweating now; I more than him and our breathing, more mine than his, was haggard at this point. I know we've only gone a lap already, but what can I say.
He remained oddly silent the whole three laps. It was really weird, I'm so used to tuning him out that actually being given silence scared me.
"Would you like to come over this afternoon? You haven't been by in a while and I've gotten new games." His smile seemed almost infectious, look at how far one compliment went.
"Sure, I'll shower at yours then? I know I have some clothes there." I look up into his eyes and he seems genuinely excited to have me over. A little socializing can't hurt.
"Why would you need to shower then and not now?" his face scrunched into a confused face.
"When I come by you'll see." I laughed and stalked back to the locker room, fervently avoiding Coach Simpson and any further chore he'd want me to do. I gathered my stuff and hit the shower. The joy it was to know our school had a water heater; I kid you not, this is the best thing after jogging, even when you're going at a snail's pace.
The sound of the water on tiles was loud enough to drown out any exterior noise that wasn't too loud. The cubicle design of the showers filled me with a sense of safety; from what, we'll probably find out together.
A shower turned on behind me, a tingle creeped its way up my spine; purposefully poking the places that made my hair the straightest, most pointed and definitely on end.
As I'd figured, Logan would've followed me. "What do you want Lo-" I was shocked to see Scott Markson, same athlete, different event. He was tall, dark and Caribbean, something he proudly shared, whether we, his classmates, cared or not. Especially in the showers, the hallways, classes, bathrooms, anywhere he could really.
His hair was a puff of thick black hair; the ends however were moderately bleached, but still cool looking. The hot water worked quickly, his curls were now framing his face and his thick pink lips all but hypnotized me.
He pushed me into the wall, goose pimples raced across the surface of my skin like seismic ripples, culminating from the electrifyingly cold tiles pressed against my back. His hands caged me in and his thick lips brushed against my ear and he breathed; Logan must've told him. I was hard and it was pressing into the dark flesh of his thigh. I could feel my dick pulsing comfortably into his slick wet skin.
"So, I heard you give good head for nothing more than a kiss and a little breath in your ear." He held my chin, slowly elevating my eyes from his lips, to take in his masterfully crafted face and to finally rest in his hazel eyes. This boy was trouble and I could feel his danger pressing into my navel.
"Let me guess, you're not the kissing type. But, you're no fool to resist a blowjob?" smiling at him, I reached down and started stroking him.
"With how Logan's praised your skills, I had to sample the merchandise." Staring intently into my eyes, he'd already erased what little personal space had existed between us. His breath tickled my nose with a minty abandon instantly turning me off.
"I'm not a business." I hissed and slipped from under him; rushing my clothes onto my wet body, I headed to the art room. Who really needs more than one hour of gym?
Mrs. Figg seemed a hermitess of the room; she was an impresario of her time and barely let the light of her past shine into the now. Skulking through the empty hallways, trying to avoid detention, I could almost hear her through the classroom door. She wasn't particularly loud. Just German.
"The 'Queen of the Night Aria.'" She paused, noting my entrance without even looking at me. This was our thing. "It's one of my favourite pieces. I performed it back in college. It's just so easy to fall in love with Mozart." She giggled and continued her singing and might I add, she sounded like Miss Damrau herself.
Once she finished her song, she smiled at me as I applauded her. "That German though. That was really good." She shushed me, always asking for art, not compliments. I initially felt to sculpt, but something felt weird. I wanted to draw, and that's exactly what I did.
I wasn't sure of what I was feeling, but after I closed my eyes I touched the canvas. Hours went by, most of the day actually. It's incredibly easy to get lost in the art, Ms. Figg completely understood that, she often doesn't condone truancy, but she sees how artists are underappreciated.
Can you blame her for being biased?
"Why a storm, dear?" I looked at her, peering over my shoulder.
"I don't know," I looked at the charcoal lines and admired my work for the first time. I had had no idea what I was drawing. But looking at it, it seemed intense.
"Is that you, dear?" she asked, pointing to a huddled form in the centre of the storm.
"I... don't know..." I whispered it that time, hoping my subconscious wasn't leaking through.
We were both lost in the inspection of the sketch, when students started streaming into the room, Evan, happened to be one of them; a trail of girls, swooning in his wake. Today I think is one of the rare days we talk in class. His long hair pulled up into a similar ponytail, a bitch looked hot. Sometimes I'm amazed that he's straight.
"Don't you think you should stop hiding the day away?" I barely looked at him, just laughing as I helped him set up.
"I just hate being out there. I don't look that bad." I grimaced, sitting at my station.
He leaned close enough for his hair to spill onto me, "Logan again?"
My eyes rolled harder than a gamblers loaded dice. "No it was Scott..." I didn't want to continue talking about this. My head started to throb.
"What happened? Scott the tracklethe? I didn't even know he was into guys." His mouth was going a mile a minute. His eyes were wide; I was growing edgier by the moment, looking at the sketch and hoping his tongue would fall out.
"Listen, I'll talk to you about it later. Nothing happened, he's not into guys and I'm not going to be a release valve for these hormone pumped junkies." I shooed him and excused myself, headed towards the restroom to run my forehead under something cool.
"Did you eat?" I turned to see Evan, his head poked out of the classroom door.
"You know I haven't." I yelled back at him, walking away. I persevered through most of the headache; vending machines are the true MVP's, they're so thanklessly persistent.
Once the bell rang, I ran back and packed my stuff, then moved to English. The class was currently experimenting with reading, the assigned teacher; Mr. Stewart was fresh out of college and had all these innovative and contemporary ways to make the books more interesting. I applauded his efforts, his handsomeness, clearly had a hand in his success and the failures.
Anyways, he was very smart and that is very sexy. He spoke and rambled at times going off on odd tangents that no one could really follow but it was his passion for thinking and his love of reading... ugh. I was hard.
"Mr. Tempest?" I snapped out of my trance instantly, he had called on me. How typical, going to the board with an erection.
"I'm sorry sir, I wasn't paying attention." I looked him in the eyes; everyone else in the class gawked at us, I stared out the window for a moment; noting the blue sky swiftly twisting into an angry grey.
"I had asked what you might be doing your reading assessment on." He licked his lips and smiled at me. I started to sweat; I looked down, outside the window again, anywhere else but at him. I didn't care who saw how weird and fidgety I was, I refused to acknowledge him directly.
"I've been looking at Marvel and DC comic books?" I still had yet to make eye contact.
"Are you asking me or telling me?" I was certain that he had been drilling holes into the side of my head at that point.
"I'm telling you." My head started to pulse again. Immediately he noted my discomfort and snaked his way to me, wading through the sea of students like some kind of educational lifeguard.
"Obviously something's bothering you, but please watch your tone. I don't want to have to punish you. You're really sweet..." he blushed slightly when he said that. My eyes were dinner plates at this point. I looked around at the others, they were sniggering and joking, I could practically see the word 'fag' being tossed around like.
To my great displeasure he just walked off and left me; I gawked as his jeans rode his ass like the 'u' on a 'Q'. Honestly, that man turned up the heat, and I was on the verge of drowning in perspiration. Momentarily he had quelled the unrest in my mind, but like any tide, the waves came crashing down.
I put my head on the desk and breathed, I puffed and gasped as my body felt on edge, like one giant hear on end.
"Fag..." that was all it took.
My mind exploded in a white hot flash, it enveloped me completely. My senses seemed disconnected as the world came into view.
"Is anyone injured?" Mr. Stewart's voice was shakier than my vision.
Shaky responds echoed about the room as students groaned as the room was evacuated. As my senses came into focus, the smell of smoke was the first thing that tickled my nose. I coughed and sputtered, rising from the ground, not knowing when I had made it there.
The room was showered in glass, wind swept through the room, blowing my hair this way and that. I locked unto the whiteboard, a smoking hole ate away at the centre of it; charred board and sparse flames fluttering into ash and smouldering about the room gave me an odd sense of amazement.
"Woah?" I yipped, touching my head, finding the pain gone and the all too quickly residing calm nauseating.
"Sam, are you okay? Do your eyes hurt?" Mr. Stewart was close to me again, enhancing the nausea.
"No. What happened? I kinda blacked out." I smiled sheepishly at him. Noting how dishevelled he looked, he was probably annoyed at my blas‚ attitude towards the destruction of our class.
"A bolt of lightning arced through the glass and struck the board." He gestured about the destruction; almost comically his movements seemed exaggerated for my pleasure.
"It could've been worse." I shrugged looking up into his brown eyes.
"It could've." He whispered, putting his hands on my shoulders, he closed the distance and hugged me. It may have been his belt buckle or an erection, but something was pressing into my lower abdomen. "I'm just glad you're okay." He pulled me away to look at him.
"Sir?"
"Sorry, I'm just... emotional. This was a pretty powerful... thing." He was blushing and ruffling his birds nest hair. "Gotta go to the cafeteria... and um, calm your classmates. And um, get the principal." He walked away with a Gala apple complexion, muttering to himself.
I was left in an empty classroom, with a smoky board and miniature tornado forming outside. I took another look out what used to be the windows and gaped at the angry skies. Lost in the dance of the clouds, the torment of the lightning and the compliments of the thunder, I barely heard the announcement that school would be ending early for fear of an impending storm.
I had lost my train of thought somewhere, ignoring my lost hair band to the mini lightning storm that had wrecked my English class. Students rushing by were blurred into a moving picture that I had a hard time following.
By the time I stepped into the bathroom, the school was mostly empty except for faculty. I had found it ridiculously coincidental that my headache and blackout took place during the lightning strike. I slowly left my mindscape and took in my reflection, noting the scuff marks and charcoal covering my body; I had long since come to terms with being a messy artist and found joy in it being a people deterrent.
I moved over to the urinal and relieved myself of a day of weirdness.
The door swung open. I didn't turn around to look who it was; I almost kind of knew who it was. Goose pimples crawled up my skin; I looked in the mirror and saw the hazel green eyes that helped make Logan so hypnotic. His lips broke apart into a wickedly toothed grin. He is beautiful...
"Logan, I do not have the energy to resist you right now." I barely moved; I stood there with my dick in hand, relishing the effect he had on my body.
"Did you think you could just work me up earlier? And then run off without me finding you?" his behaviour annoyed me, but left me weak in my bones. He was so smug, grabbing his dick through his shorts, thinking he was going to get some bathroom nookie.
Nope.
"That was an accident, an err in judgment really." I looked down and willed myself to put away my love stick.
"Only judgement you're gonna know, is this dick!" he lifted his shirt and ran his fingers across his abs. Good Lord... This boy was disgustingly hot. But he had much to be desired in the personality department that I refused to overlook any longer.
"Get out." I rolled my eyes. "You know what. I'll leave." I quickly attempted to leave but I found myself pushed up against, yet another tiled wall. He tried to relax me with a mint soaked exhalation followed by a quick exchange of saliva and tongue massaging.
Obviously I let him; I hated him for making me feel so incredibly good, great even. I felt desired by him, in that moment and so many others. As soon as he'd nut I'd sit or stand there with his cum in or on me ruminating on the pleasure I was being denied. He messed with my head and it scared me.
I could feel the buzz building again, arcing under my skin, chaining through my body, coming to rest in my lips. His tongue surged through my lips like a proboscis nipping for nectar. He could kiss so, so well; my flesh was a tempest at this point, the vast landscape I called skin was under siege and my lips ached with passion and...
"Aaaah!" we quickly stepped away from each other, hands rushed to our lips.
"Did you feel that spark?" I touched my lips, still feeling him there, smelling him; I looked into his eyes to see him staring away. I could see the cobwebs begging and pleading the gears to not work.
"I felt nothing you fag..." he whispered, still touching his lips and occasionally staring at me.
"Well, can I go now?" I didn't wait for a response and just headed out and away from him and his drama.
"Hey, can I join you?" I caught up to Charles and followed him home.
"Definitely!" he smiled down at me, blushing slightly, which honestly was starting to get weird, a thought flashed across my mind and I scrapped it immediately. Charlie is straight.
"How's Mira?" he looked at me as if I'd told him his mother had died. The grief stricken expression that crossed his face could've summoned storm clouds, well, more intense ones.
"We're different people now." He stated rather hurriedly and sped up; his face was almost as red as his hair.
"How's wrestling?" I obviously had to change the subject, lest he think I was interested.
"She was a bitch. I mean. A bitch, dude." He stared intently at me; I looked away and focused on the impending doom shuffling the foliage above us.
"How so?" I couldn't help but to be polite, this was clearly something he hadn't spoke about and yearned to express.
"She was manipulative. She'd always want her pussy eaten and never once would she suck my dick. I've only ever cum once in our relationship and we were together for three months. Three months..." I felt bad, so I did something that seemed instinctive.
I hugged him. He leaned into me, enveloping me into his mountainous form. I giggled slightly as he warmed me up. For a moment, I think he breathed my scent in but I just let what goodness karma owed me flow into him.
"There, there. It's all gonna be ok. I've got you." I cooed him, knowing that's how I'd want to be comforted, but the stranger thing that occurred was me finding myself sniffing him and growing an attraction to his body.
"Thank you." He pulled away from me, we made awkward eye contact, smiling mostly then looking away and back.
I realized we had reached his house; it was the only canary yellow house in the neighbourhood, as well as the only 3 storey house. His family wasn't rich so to speak, but they did better than the rest of us.
I wiped away one of his tears only to have him jump on top of me. We rolled around his yard for a while, he had let me win, I had pinned him, straddling him actually. He was cute.
"You're welcome." I laughed looking at him. Conceding to my victory, he flipped me pinned, I could only smile. The way he looked down at me, I almost didn't see his face. The darkening sky behind him broke apart and surrounded him like a silvery halo.
We soon parted, ignoring how awkward it was after a while, with his dick pushed up into my ass, but I didn't say anything, I just followed him inside, moved to his bathroom.
"Are you going to shower now?" he called after me as I climbed the staircase.
"Yeah, I'll be out in a moment is that ok? Could you bring me a towel? Please and thanks." I entered the bathroom and started to strip.
The water felt wonderful. I got rid of most of the charcoal and paint that always seemed to find me even when I avoided it like the plague. Charlie had a hot tub for a bath; it could fit him and two others if he wanted. I recalled a time when he had invited me over to try it, and let's just say it had brought me back.
"Charlie?" I hesitantly called his name and looked around. I turned off the shower and went looking for my host and a towel to dry myself with.
I entered his room, not seeing him I moved on, not realizing or caring that I was strolling about his house naked. It was beautiful, his house not my body, he had his own car but preferred to walk because it was more economical than the alternative, if it were me, I could've lived 10 feet away from school... I'd drive each and every day.
"Well fuck." Charlie was in the kitchen. His shorts were around his legs and I had never realized they were this defined, his ass and legs, not the shorts. It only then dawned on me that he was masturbating. I froze momentarily, realizing what was happening and prepared myself to handle the situation.
I crept up behind him, unsure as to why; I was caught between wanting to help him out as well as wanting to see his manhood. I would've been lying if I weren't interested in seeing what this mountain of a teenage boy had swinging between his legs.
I was also erect by the time I reached him, I knew I was the one who had made him hard, reliving his story from earlier, I realized what he had wanted, his true intention for having me here. He did have a new game to play and he was warming it up for me.
I dropped to my knees and tapped his calf.
"Oh Shit!" he gasped and turned around immediately, almost tripping through his shorts. His cock swung around, and length wise, it was slightly above average, maybe seven inches; it didn't scare me. His width was another story, like his body it seemed outrageous, making his cock seem monstrous.
"It's okay big boy. I'm here for you..." I cooed and took the head in my mouth. Instantly his hands were on the back of my head, forcing me to take more of his dick. I could taste his precum, it was a light flavour, barely bitter, just strong and present.
At most, I could take half of his pipe; I had no idea how long we were there, but when he finally came, he yanked me away from his cock. Tightly he held my hair, like a savage he worked himself to the most explosive orgasm I'd ever witnessed; especially with knowing Evan, he could put out a fire with his loads.
I was covered and secretly happy that I had more quality time with his shower. We didn't say anything to each other; I just left him there, breathing, with a crooked smile. Once I was out the shower, I used his towel and put my clothes back. Bag on my back, I was headed out the door when he stopped me.
"Where are you going?" I walked back to the kitchen, noticing he was just walking around in his boxers.
"Home." I walked back to the door, pulled it open and just as swiftly he had shut it back.
"Why?" he was really close to me, I could still smell the strong scent of his masculinity, it was pungent and even more present than Logan's. It was winding me up again and I was not in the mood.
"Didn't we just play your new game?" I didn't look him in the eyes; it bothered me deeply that he was just like the others.
"No." He grabbed me by my shoulders and pressed me into the door, filling my senses with his entire entity. He suffocated me with a kiss that left me confused and blushing. "What just happened? Yeah I know you suck dick. I know you're gay. So am I, but I like you. Can you understand that?"
"What?" I looked at him, still breathing heavily. "Charlie, you're straight." I looked at him, opened my mouth to respond, but slid to knees.
"I'm bisexual, actually, but some people don't care for the correction." He slid to my level and hugged me. "I'm sorry this is happening so quickly, I wanted to wine and dine you first. I just... I couldn't control myself. When we were out in the yard, I barely held my composure." He chuckled and smiled at me again.
"Why now?" I felt incredibly attracted to him at this point and that scared me. Was I attracted to him, or his actual attraction to me? The question plagued me as I stared into his limpid blues.
"When you noticed me in gym today; I knew you finally noticed me." I blushed at his remark as he pulled me into him, lying at the foot of his door. The breeze clawed its way under the door chilling me, but Charlie seemed immune, and it amazed me, adding to his intrigue.
"I have always noticed you, or I've seen you, but I just never saw you sexually. You've always been straight to me. Not that I haven't sucked a straight dick or two. I just never pegged you the experimenting type, much less bi." I rested my head on his naked chest, letting his warmth seep into me.
"Just like I've seen the way you look at Logan." An icy edge tainted his voice. "You've wasted so much time on that fool, and all he does is badmouth you and give you hell."
"Hey, don't go there. You've never stood up for me." I raised my voice slightly, pushing off his chest, but he was stronger than I and pulled me back even closer.
"Do you remember when he got that black eye last month?" a smile had replaced the edge, it was audible. He was proud.
"Please don't tell me you socked him protecting my honour and virtue?"
"Yeah, I did. He was bragging about how your ass was the tightest shit he'd ever fucked and that he needed to put a price on you cuz your pussy was a golden investment." Charlie was physically tightening, he was upset but he refused to let the poison affect the situation between us.
I remained silent. I wanted to curl in a ball, but being motionless was the best I could do.
"I knew he was lying. It just angered me. The way he was just... selling you like a cock sleeve or somethin' it rubbed me the wrong way."
I remained silent again, wondering if I could leave, counting down his realization.
"Well?" he fidgeted to look at me. "Well?" his voice grew shrilly as he realized the truth.
He stiffened, and I knew what was coming. I tried to push myself away, hoping to leave before he lost his temper with me.
"I'm so sorry..." he whispered. He hugged me tightly, throwing me for a loop. He seemed the most sensitive man alive and it blew my mind as well as had alarm bells ringing in my mind. I wanted to escape because he was too understanding, too rational, too there for me and it was scary. I needed to find Evan, he was the only person allowed to know me this vulnerably.
"I need to go home now. I'm sorry; this is too much for me." I pushed away, again he resisted, like a chill up my spine the same static that had separated Logan and I, ripped me away from Charlie. He looked at me incredulously, his body blocking the entrance. I headed to kitchen and quickly ran home.
It was one thing to be confused; it was another to be confused and wet. The storm had started, like a lover scorned, it tore through the town. I was soaked, drowning in my skin a mile from my house. I ran through puddles, running from Charlie, Logan and the stupid guys in my life.
I was increasingly tired of questioning my worth outside of my mind. The chill of the storm seemed to phase out of my mind as the cramp of another headache took over. I slowed down and walked in the rain. Everything was soaked at this point, noting incredulously, my bag had been left at Charlie's. I smirked outside the headache and felt the pain arc.
Like a crescendo of pain, the white flash enveloped me again and I only knew one thing was certain before I knew nothing else. I'd fallen into the road.
Questions? Comments? Rants? That was chapter one. I'm still feeling the story out, so bear with me. You can email me at operidot1919@gmail.com