So I've started a series titled "Beyond My Dreams". It's a series of 2-3 shots as gifts for close friends on here. I've written one for the fantastilistic Marnikinz, and now this goes for Ashlynn! My BarlowGirl friend for life. She makes ahmazzing sigs, she's an ahmazzing writer, and a great friend. Read her FF's, one-shots, and our joint when you get the chance!
Chapter 1 of 3 (or 2. I'll decide soon)
Name is Ashlynn Fantasia Taylor. Ash, Ashlynn, Fanta Orange, whatever floats your boat. I'm 15, in high school, and I'm all for love. I love people, I need love. My parents, they're great and all, but they never have time for me, and what they call love, seems fake.
So I set out trying to find my own love. His name is Jake. In the beginning, his love seemed all to real, but I was compelled. The passion. We didn't rush things. We took it day by day. But things seemed to be getting physical. And I don't mean that kind. I mean like he felt the need to hit, punch, slap, smack, and kick me. He pained me evermore. He blamed me for little things. He claimed he was distracted, thinking about me, and would fail assignments at school, and so he'd hit me. And the worst thing was, it'd be after we got off the bus, in front of the other kids. He'd hit me, hard. Red blotches on my hands. Slapping me hurt worse. On the head. The back of my head now became way too sensitive to even brush my hair. The punches. Black eyes. Parents never noticed. I'd go inside in an hour after he'd hit me. He'd leave me to lay on the concrete, paralyzed of pain. I couldn't move. Nothing was broken, but it hurt just to blink. I'd finally regain strength and pick up my pieces. I walked in the door, laying my backpack down, and finding a mirror. I would stand against the sink, turn on the cold water, and wash it over my face, taking a bit of a drink. I looked up into the mirror. Several times I did this, black eyes, bruises, cuts from the concrete, my head pounding. The mental and physical pain let my emotions rage inside. I'd take a shower, my head bleeding a bit from hitting the ground. I got out and just stood in my towel, crying. I loved him. How could he do this? Why would he do this? I patched up myself, put on some band-aids. I even tried cheering myself up with those stupid little cartoon band-aids with famous animated icons like Dora, or SpongeBob. But that didn't even help. Days and days this continued. He had a thing for self-humiliating me. It was awful.
Each time I lay down, encountering pain. I wanted to let go. Free myself from his physical grip. But I couldn't. For each time I feared he could do more, for he could possibly haunt me, come back for me. So there was no way out.
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I think this might be a 2-shot. Give me sometime to think.
Btw, I've approved the plot with Ashlynn. She likes it and demanded I typed it.
With love to all my girlies!
<3
