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Is my story any good? ?

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I hate my life. I want to die. Please god, just kill me. I cannot kill myself,they'd never understand. She'd been praying this prayer daily for as long as she could remember. She wanted desperately to change her life but could not find the motivation or the strength within herself to make it happen. People often told her they admired her strength. She always suspected they were lying because they could see she was beyond her breaking point and were simply trying to offer up words of encouragement. She had spent her entire life crying out for help. Once she even told her mother that she needed to go to a psychiatrist but her mother said she was too smart she would only tell them what they wanted to hear. She thought herself to be of above average intelligence, and quite gifted at almost everything she did. That's what made the whole situation sooo ****** up! How the h**l did such a smart and gifted young girl end up like this?! It really was a tragic waste of a human life. She always figured she'd die young and the that it would be in a way so horrific that the tragic story of her young life cut short would make the evening news, 20/20 or even Nightline.

It was so hot that day, she could feel the beads of sweat rolling down her chest. It was too hot to even turn on the lights, so she sat in the dark office with her head down on the desk feeling dizzy. She had been running from her life for so long that whenever she sat still long enough, it caught up with her. All the pain, the fear, the sadness, the regret, and the anger, it ALL caught up with her eventually. She sat there in the dark.. trying to formulate an escape plan. But is it really possible to escape from your life? Because no matter how she changed her surroundings no matter where she moved or who she hung out with, the demons of her past would always haunt her. It's the things that happened in her life that made her who she was. But did anyone even know who she really was? People never took the time to truly get to know her and to see her for who she was. Because if they really knew her, it would hurt them to see her this way and as it seemed... SHE was the only one hurting.

It was just about closing time. She had made it through another day. The demons hadn't taken her just yet. As she locked up the office for the night. She was sickened by the feeling of hopelessness and despair and still in wonderment of her life. How had she been reduced to this? She wanted to die. She headed to the place she called home. It really wasn't bad. she had certainly lived in worse places. But not normal by anyone's standards. But for this chapter of her life, it was home. When she got home that night she turned the radio dial to the channel with the sappy love songs and the DJ that offered romance advice. She was feeding the depression. Helping to to grow stronger. She had come to like this feeling and knew what to do to trigger a full blown episode. But she wasn't ready for that just yet. She wanted the feeling to last. She wanted to stretch it out for a few days. Maybe just linger in melancholy for a while before plummeting into the darkness and despair. She had nothing else to do and no interest in watching t.v. so she got right in the bed. As she lay there staring blankly at the ceiling her daily prayer ran through her mind over and over again. I hate my life... I want to die... please god, just kill me. I hate my life... I want to die... please god, just kill me......

She awoke with a sense of relief that she didn't have to be anywhere. She did have to be at work, but her job was not that hard and not really a job at all seeing as she didn't get paid. It was really more of a place to hang out and pass the time. By working there in the office all day she got a free place to live and the boss would throw her a few bucks every now and then. There really wasn't much to her existence at all... she often wondered that if she disappeared, would anyone notice, or even care? Whatever; She thought to herself... Just another day.

She had been sitting in the office for almost an hour doing the mindless day to day tasks that kept the pace semi together. She was painfully aware of the how much time had passed since her last meal. She left the office and headed over to the workshop at the other end of the property where there was a refrigerator. Her fridge at home was on the fritz so she kept most of her food in the shop fridge.

As she reached shop she noticed that the door was slightly open. She stopped dead in her tracks. The shop was already a creepy place to be... she didn't need the added horror movie cliché of a partially open door. She thought about turning around and going back to the office... but she was too dam hungry. So she took a deep breath and pushed the door open fast.

It was dark but she didn't hear any movement... She turned on the light. There was **** everywhere, guy stuff, tools, and pieces of things, bikes... something that looked like a mini motorcycle,lots of thing things who's appeal didn't even begin to register with her. She couldn't guess the intended purpose of half the stuff in there. She opened the rust covered refrigerator... the light in the shop blew out. ****! she thought and she grabbed a soda and the bag of chocolate chip cookies and went back to the office. As she inhaled the cookies, she was interrupted by the phone ringing. It never fails she thought, the phone will not ring until the very second she filled her mouth. She choked down the cookies and answered the phone. It was of course her boss asking what was going on. Naturally the answer was nothing so he said he'd be available on his cell if she needed him. She knew this meant he wasn't coming in if he didn't have to. Why should they both sit there and do nothing. But dam, she wanted him to change that light bulb. It was to late now, she'd have to get him to do it tomorrow.

She walked over and plugged in the fan. It was dusty and probably posed some sort of health risk by blowing that amount of filth into the air, but she was too hot to care. She sat back in the chair with her feet propped up on the desk. They were dirty. She could see the dirt outlining the straps of her flip flops. She needed shower. It had been 2 weeks since she showered. She had been swimming and was able to wash her hair in the bathroom at the pool she rinsed daily in the sink but 2 weeks had passed since she was able to take a real shower in hot water! She sat there.. lonely, bored, and depressed. She was running her finger in circles around the large bruise on her hand. Every so often she'd press down as hard as she could right in the center of the bruise just to see how bad it hurt. She recalls a line from some war movie “pain is good... It lets you know your still alive”. But what kind of life was this? She often wondered if it is normal to have the kind of life that people have on t.v. Were the lives of her favorite sitcom characters what real life is supposed to be like? She had never had that kind of life and to her it would be a dream come true. All she ever wanted was to have a normal life.

She sat there staring blankly at the computer screen in front of her. The longer she sat there the more the background noise faded out. She could feel herself slipping into "the darkness". She didn't even try to fight it this time. She took a deep breath  preparing for the emotional roller coaster that would ensue. All the worst moments of her life flashed before her eyes. Every mistake she ever made played over and over again. She wanted to die. She reached over the desk and grabbed the scissors. Closing her eyes, she took the tip of the blade and dragged it back and forth across her forearm, just hard enough to break the skin. She sat there feeding off of the pain. It stung and she felt the heat of the blood running down her arm. She didn't care. She just sat there with her eyes closed.

She had been sitting there for so long that the blood on her arm was dry and crusty. She couldn't tell if she had dozed off or not. And it was too hot to put forth effort into trying to figure it out. So,she decided to go and clean herself up the best that she could. She went into the bathroom and turned on the water. It felt good, she welcomed the cold water on her skin it was refreshing and she felt totally rejuvenated. As if she could go back in the office get a lot accomplished, If she wanted to. Which she didn't. She just stayed there for a moment enjoying the cool, clean feeling that the water brought her. She stepped back from the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. She peeled her shirt over her head and stood there looking at herself. She hated what she saw, it made her want to throw up. She looked around for a place to put her shirt. The bathroom was disgusting.

Every inch of it was covered with filth. It was enclosed but had only screens to separate the top of the wall and the ceiling. It was like something you find at a park or a campground. Actually it with the flickering lights and the eerie blueish glow it made her feel like she was starring in an old horror movie. She hated this place. She stuffed the end of her shirt into her back pocket. She splashed some water on her face. It was cold and kind of shocking at first. But she did it again and again until she had water running down her chest and forearms. She reached around and pulled out her shirt and dried herself off and put the slipped the shirt back over her head and turned off the water. Gross! She thought as she looked at herself in the mirror one last time before heading back to the office.

The sun was beating down on her as she headed across the yard towards the shop. She felt as if she'd been walking in the desert for hours. She walked into the shop and flip on the light. Nothing. c**p! She said outloud, she had forgotten to do something about the lightbulb. She walked over to the fridge and opend the door only to find it empy. She couldnt rememebr the last time she had been to the grocery store so there was no one to blame but herself. She walked out of the shop and slammed the door behind her.

She made a beeline towards the soda machine. She stood there fishing around in the pockets of her bluejeans for some change. She pulled out the 83 cents as well as a button and the note. She let the button fall to the ground and put the note back in her pocket. She deposited 75 cents, pressed the button and listened for the soda to fall. But she heard nothing. Being that the 8 cents remaining in her hand was all the money she had to her name she franticly started pressing random buttons on the machine hoping to get anything.

She was relieved when a can came tumbling out. Rootbeer.. yuck. But better than nothing. Put the remaining money back in her pocket and leaned against the soda machine. As she stood there enjoying the cold crisp soda, she listrened to the sounds of of the cicadas. That was the sound that reminded her of her childhood and it's long hot sticky days of summer. When things were eaiser and she was happy. This thought filled her with sadness and anger. She pushed herself off the machine and threw the soda can and most of its contents into the trashcan. Again, she wanted to throw up.

Back in the office she was totally engaged in her trashy tabloid magazine when she was startled back to reality when someone walked in. She gave her sub-standard “Can I help you?” When she looked up to see who was there she was breathless. He was stunning. He had dark brown hair and big brown eyes to match. His skin was tan, it looked as if he worked outside. He was dressed in a faded navy blue T-shirt and shorts, looked as if he was on his way to work. Possibly construction or landscaping. He was tall and looked strong. But not like he worked out in the gym strong, more like he worked for a living strong. He said that we was there to make a payment for a friend. She looked up the information and collected the payment. He made some comment about how hot it was in the office and she said that it was just him and suggested they both get naked and see what happens. He chuckled and said he had to get back to work but he' d take her up on that offer when he had more time. They exchanged numbers and she watched as his fadded old grey Jeep drove out of the front gate. She was sure that she'd be hearing from him by the end of the week. She could hardly wait to get her hands on him.

She decided that this feeling was too good to waste sitting at home alone doing nothing. She felt pretty again and she wanted to be around other people. She finished up at the office and got home as quickly as she could. She turned on the radio, this time to the local top-40's station. As she looked around the room she didn't even know where to begin. Most normal people start with a shower but she didn't have one so she took a large styrofoam cup and put in filled it with water and put it in the microwave. While she waited she thought about having a cocktail, but didn't have any alcohol. She she decided to go right for the kill and she went to her cabinet and grabbed the unmarked prescription bottle and poured the contents into her hand. She sifted through the mixture of pills. She decided on the half a painkiller for now and a whole one for later. She put the bottle back and placed the two pills on the counter.

She plugged the drain in the sink and filled it half way with cold water from the tap and since she didn't have hot water she took the styrofoam cup out of the microwave and dumped it into the sink she added just a touch of liquid hand soap and swished it around a bit. She reached over to the drawer and grabbed a washcloth. She dipped it in the soapy water. It was hot! She squeezed out the water the best that she could and wiped her face. She put the cloth back into the sink. And picked up the cup again. She filled it just a little with the cold water and reached over and took the half a painkiller.

Then she kicked of her flip flops and stepped out of her jeans. Just then a really great song came on the radio. She LOVED that song. She walked seductively over to the radio and turned it up. She danced around a little, pretending as she had many time before to be a stripper. She took her shirt off and whirled it around over her head before flinging it over to the chair. She was in her bra and panties.She shimmed her butt and whipped her hair around. She felt s**y! But still dirty. So she took the show over to the sink where she gave herself a PTA... meaning she washed her P T and A then she put on fresh panties and stepped back into the same jeans she had been wearing for the past two days. How was anyone going to know that anyway? She looked around the room trying to find a shirt. She decided on a low cut black top and some strappy black heels she added a glittery silverish belt to jazz the whole thing up. She didn't like to carry a purse so she stuffed her I.D. Into her back pocket along with the remaining painkiller. She looked in the mirror and quickly applied some mascara, eyeliner and lip gloss. She took out the rubber band that had been holding back her hair all day and she shook her head from side to side freeing her long curly blonde locks. She fluffed it with her hand and thought it looked o-k. So she slapped in a little mousse and a black headband. She looked in the mirror and was very pleased with the outcome. She grabbed her lip gloss and put the tube in her pocket. She was ready to face the outside world.

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9 ANSWERS


  1. Um... I don't like it.  

    I can't put my finger on why exactly, I just don't.

    Sorry >.<;

    It's really strange for me to be so lost...


  2. Sounds good to me, I'd like to read more. Are you on any writing sites? I'm on http://chapteread.com They have cool features. worth checking out!! and good luck.

  3. So were is all the action, bombs, secret agents.  Just kidding!  You need to have more dialouge.

  4. I think your story is a very real account of a girl who is lonely and feels down because of her situation. It demonstrates how life and how you perceive life can change on the flip of a coin. I think you are a fluid writer and with a little brushing up could make money out of it. I eempathized a lot with the character - do you know me? lol

    write the rest

    i want to know what happens next please xxxxx

  5. I read the first sentence.  A word of advice- you're supposed to start with something that catches, and holds readers.  Something as depressing as that, so amateur... it's a horrible way to start.  I couldn't continue.

  6. okay . woah. thats kindof.. amazing..

    email the rest to me?? la4hi@Yahoo.com

  7. its a pretty good story. of course, it isn't all of it, because it would take forever typing it here! other websites will give you better opinions so try them

  8. sorry but i don't think this is a good place to post stories, try posting them here and you'll get lots of opinions! :)

    http://www.fanfiction.net/

  9. aww! how depressing.....it is a good story....a lot of  people would read it. I would, for example.

    hey....please read my story too.....

    http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;...

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