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The Story With No Name Chapter 4There's homosexuality in this. Just so you know. There's also heterosexuality. [ew] There's your warning if you don't like either of those things. Yeah.
I open my eyes and all I can see is Trevor, hovering above me. Slowly he grabs my chin and pulls my face to his. Our lips touch. I want to pull away but I can't.
"Christophè, don't you love me?" he says, "Christophè?" louder now, "Christophè!" And louder.
"Christophè! Come on! I've got to go but I need to see that you're up before you sleep the whole day away!" my mom yells. It's not Trevor. Why was I thinking that? It's got to be the fact that he's the first kind-of-openly gay guy I've met. I mean in New York I met tons of kids who I knew would probably turn out to be gay, but no one ever came out to me before. It's just basic curiosity and my mind is over-analyzing it. Yeah, that's it. "Christophè!"
"Yeah mom I'm up!" I yell back from my bed.
The Story With No Name Chapter 3No one should ever be awake this early. Unfortunately, I have to be. I'm already dressed and eating breakfast by the time my mom gets up. Her hair is sticking up in random patches of waves. She pours herself some coffee then goes off to get ready for an interview she has today.
By the time I finish eating, she emerges from her room, entirely done up. "Well?" she asks spinning around. She's wearing a pencil skirt with a lavender button down shirt. Her wavy brown hair is pulled back into a perfect, yet still casual looking bun and her makeup makes her eyes look a golden brown.
I offer her a small smile, "You look great." Her worried look turns into a soft sweet smile as she pulls me into a hug. "Good luck," I say right as I hear a honk from outside, "That's my ride."
She grabs my arm and pulls me back before I can leave. "Is this the same boy who drove you home yesterday?" she asks. I nod. "Well then you should invite him over for dinner tomorrow night! I'd love to meet him."
"Mom, I har
The Story With No Name Chapter 2Trevor coughs and breaks the silence. "Here, since you're so close to me," he hands me a slip of paper with a number on it, "just text me in the mornings if you want a ride." I smile and thank him. "So...uh...music?" he says awkwardly.
"So...uh," I say mimicking him, "what about it?" I smirk. He laughs and starts flipping through stations on his radio.
"Why is everything on the radio such shit? Do me a favor? There's a CD in that glove box. Grab it?" I pass it to him. "What do you think of Falling in Reverse and Escape the Fate?" he asks.
"Don't know who that is."
He looks at me amazed. "Seriously? Ronnie Radke is like a God. I'm mildly obsessed with him." He puts in the CD and goes to a track he says is called "Situations". It definitely sounds like what he would listen to. He turns it down. "So what kind of music do you listen to?"
"Mostly just whatever's on the radio. I don't really have a preference."
"Then you don't have taste," he laughs. "Tell you what when I get to your p
The Story With No Name Chapter 1Starting high school has never been easy for anyone, I know. But in a whole new city? Hell, a new state? It's bad enough being a freshman, but I just wish we'd stayed in New York. Instead we HAD to move to the middle of nowhere, Ohio. Mom calls it "quaint" but it's better described as boring and isolated.
It's not that I think I'll be "alone" or anything; I've never had problems with making friends. I just really like the concept of being less than 30 minutes from a major city. Here, I'm lucky if I'm 30 minutes from a Walmart. Not exactly my style. Despite all my complaints though, I still have to go to school. I've been trying all morning to get my mom to let me skip today, but she's not buying. Guess I'll have to bite the bullet and just go. There's no real point anyways. I mean I'm already up at this ungodly hour.
I have to walk two blocks to my bus stop and the bus decides to already be 10 minutes late. Once we get there the principal greets us at the door and tells everyone to go
PlasterI haven't eaten today.
I didn't mean to, it just happened.
Oddly enough I'm not upset about it.
Maybe if I keep it up I could lose-
I can't think that way.
Alright, so I can't do that.
What can I do though?
I feel so...empty.
That's because I didn't eat.
But really it's not.
It's got nothing to do with eating.
It's got to do with that damned mirror.
It keeps staring at me.
Or is it me staring back at it?
I can never tell.
Maybe if I covered it somehow it would stop staring.
Sheets over it don't work.
I can feel it's glare puncture my skin.
Maybe if the image was marred with...
Don't say it.
It's hardly opaque.
In fact I can see right through it.
She looks much prettier now.
Everything looks prettier when it's rose tinted, isn't that what they say?
And this red is as close to a rose as anything else.
Please stop it.
But if I just-
But I hate the mirror girl so much.
I feel awful lately.
I could change that.
But I've tried
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More