stellala13

stellala13

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gone

I couldn't believe he was gone. As I stood in the empty room that had been the dining room, I was absolutely stunned. I looked around, searching for any evidence that the place had been inhabited for over a year. There was nothing. No signs anywhere that he had ever lived here. Before i knew what I was doing, I was moving towards his bedroom. I could feel tears coming, hot on my face as I cried. I got to his bedroom door, and stopped. Taking a breath and steeling myself, I opened the door.

I could remember when it had happened. My aunt had bought a new dog when I was about 8 years old, and I really loved dogs. But this dog, she didn't particularly like people, and she was terrified of me, now matter how I tried to calm her down. After about two weeks with my aunt, she finally made her feelings about me very clear by biting me, hard in the forearm. After that, I never went near her.

His many charms constantly enthralled me. I was always amazed by him. And, more than anything, amazed that he was mine. I mean, he literally could have ended up with most any girl in the country, possibly world, and he chose me. That was just luck, I'd originally thought, but he'd always told me that it was simply that he was undeserving of me, only I never realized it. I honestly didn't believe it to begin with...

rainy

On a quiet rainy day, Gemma's favorite thing to do was always read a book. I would watch her, every time I babysat her. Normally, she played chess or watched television or went outside. But on a rainy day, Gemma only ever felt like reading a good book. And could I blame her? Reading was fun, and I loved it too...but she only seemed to read books on rainy days. Not on normal days, when there was so much else to do. And she never liked chess or video games very much on rainy days even though they were able to be played in teh same space. I used to wonder about this fascination, but I never once questioned it.

As the water splashed up over my eyes, I fought not to scream. Memories flooded in, and I recalled being three years old, helpless, and trapped in a forgotten well. And now, fifteen and I'm still terrified of water, although I haven't a reason to be. The water drains away from my face, and I swallow before carefully wading my way out of the pool. "Em! What's wrong?" my boyfriend calls after me, but I just close my eyes and ignore him

I was sitting there, watching the flashing bright colors on the warm summer morning. A great day to be a gypsy, for the festival days always seemed to be the ones we made the best living. Now, all I'd to do was wait until nightfall for my time to dance, sing, and make my own living...

I considered the beehive warily. I didn't know why I'd ever agreed to gather honey with him, because it was so strange and dangerous, especially for a bug magnet like me. But here I was, helping my boyfriend collect honey. I must have gone insane. Because it sure as hell couldn't be "love" driving this action. No way.

I just wanted to run away. That's all I wanted, more than anything else. Although I kept telling my friends, they continued to think I wasn't serious. I'm pretty sure they thought it was just a cry for help. But it wasn't. I was dedly serious. All I wanted was to simply run away. I was so done with being here. Here...was not the right place for me. I could feel it.

His compassion astounded me at times like this. More than anything, it has astounded me, the sort of compassion he had for another person. For a lesser person than himself.

I was staring at stacks of books, and all I could think was, "Thanks a lot, Jaxson. Now I have library duty for a month." A month. Of checking books in and out of our school's library. For no pay. Yeah. Thanks a whole lot, Jax. I'll keep that in mind next time you ask for a "teeny, tiny little favor." And then, of course, he chose to walk in. And no, I don't mean Jax. God help him when I got my hands on him... I mean Tom.

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writing since 2011 · 12 entries · 12 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Stella showed up.

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12days written

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on this day 15 years ago

Stella wrote about suppose
“Suppose you had only been a dream. Maybe, then, it wouldn't hurt so much to think of you. Maybe, possibly, I wouldn't miss you this much. Maybe you wouldn't even be something I could remember. But y…”

the words Stella reaches for

nowrainyrememberbooksmeanwaterdreamhurtpossiblymisscourseloveunderstoodthankslibraryjax