Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ (iNSeRT SToRY NaMe HeRe) ❯ (iNSeRT SToRY NaMe HeRe): Noelle's Story Part I ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: MariaKnight 
Noelle's Story, Part I
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 11.21.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 939 | Visits: 195 | Status: Work In Progress
Noelle's Story, Part I
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 11.21.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 939 | Visits: 195 | Status: Work In Progress
(iNSeRT SToRY NaMe HeRe): Noelle’s Story
I don’t remember the first time I took a hit, drug-wise or physically. It’s all a dream-like haze of drugs, sex, and alcohol . . .
I don’t remember falling asleep in Blake’s room; I don’t even remember going upstairs. I sighed, maybe my mother was right, I was doing to many, to much. I coughed, blood stained my hand. But, if I was going to die anyway, I might as well die in a way I can’t feel it, right? Well, you might not see it, but, It was a habit, I used to only do it because I was scared, I still am. I’m scared of Blake, scared of my body, scared of the imminent threat of death looming over my head. I wanted to forget . . .
I used to be a good girl, straight A’s save for my F minus minus minus in P.E. It wasn’t my fault; really, I couldn’t participate, because stuff like that would just kill me faster. And the one thing I don’t want, the thing I fear the most, is death. Anyone’s death really, my father was the first death I ever saw, but not the last, he tried to run out on my mother and I, but the minute he was running out the door, he was killed by a drive-by.
But, now . . . I’m laying half dressed in my boyfriends’ room, and he’s still asleep, with his arm around my waist. I should feel safe, but instead, I’m worried that I could have to spend money on baby supplies instead of keeping ahead on my rent. I’m terrified, like I always am. It’s amazing I’m not like Phyre’s girlfriend, scared of everything. I probably should be, instead of jumping into danger every five minutes. Oh well, that’s me for you, in a nutshell. A walking disaster.
I slipped out of Blake’s arms and out of his bed, pulling my missing clothes on, I walked out of his room, down the stairs and out the door. Mom wasn’t going to be happy with me, seeing as I promised I’d be back before morning, and dawn was breaking as I walked out of his house. I’d taken with me, one of his strongest drinks, and took note of the bruise of Lorant’s face, and that his very strongest was missing, I sighed, he thought I didn’t know. But, he doesn’t remember when he hits me, only her. Only her. . . I let out a little sob, it didn’t make any sense! I was jealous of his sister! I wondered, briefly, what happened, since I’d noticed the blood on her. I hadn’t bothered thinking about it, I wondered, what cruel thing had happened to her now. Come to think of it, her angsty boyfriend wasn’t around. I decided to stop by his house . . .
The following Monday . . .
poor Lorant . . .so young to lose someone so close, I know the feeling, and I don’t want to wish it on her . . . but I must admit that I did, I wanted her to feel my pain, I wanted Blake all to myself. I wrote, ignoring the teacher hovering over my shoulder. I shifted, uncomfortable at him staring at my page and tapping his ruler in his hand. I absent mindedly attempted to swat the annoying gnat away, and ended up with detention.
One Year Later . . .
Collette was now about three months old, so angelic, she contradicted Blake and my own behavior. Seeing as we seem to fight more often now then we ever have. It hurt, having him yell, and annoyed me when he whined. I was getting harder to tell whether I wanted to kill, or kiss Blake. Jesus Christ! I’m only sixteen now, I’m to young for this kind of drama! A baby, a boyfriend, it was almost to much to handle. But, I kind of have to admit, it is fun making Blake change Collette, he swears like a sailor. It always makes me giggle a little.
Six Years Later . . .
Collette is getting pretty big, but she’s still tiny, like me. She’s getting so pretty, she’s already getting stares. I smiled when she walked in the door from school, holding up a paper with a gold star on it. I picked her up and set her on my hip as I read the paper, and congratulated her. “Do you want a cookie?” I asked, reaching into the cookie jar and offering a fresh chocolate chip cookie. She grabbed it, said a quick thanks and gobbled down the cookie, I set her down on one of the bar stools. “Do you have any homework?” I asked her, she pulled it out and we began to work on it.
Ten Years Later . . .
I lay lazily on the couch, Collette was supposed to be on a date with her boyfriend, Dylan. I was recovering from a fun few hours of getting high, and drinking out my supply of vodka. It was, to say the least, an interesting combination. I didn’t hear Blake walking up behind me, I didn’t notice the gun in his hand, but I felt the pain in my stomach as he shot me, and saw my world go black.
End, Part I Noelle’s Story.
I don’t remember the first time I took a hit, drug-wise or physically. It’s all a dream-like haze of drugs, sex, and alcohol . . .
I don’t remember falling asleep in Blake’s room; I don’t even remember going upstairs. I sighed, maybe my mother was right, I was doing to many, to much. I coughed, blood stained my hand. But, if I was going to die anyway, I might as well die in a way I can’t feel it, right? Well, you might not see it, but, It was a habit, I used to only do it because I was scared, I still am. I’m scared of Blake, scared of my body, scared of the imminent threat of death looming over my head. I wanted to forget . . .
I used to be a good girl, straight A’s save for my F minus minus minus in P.E. It wasn’t my fault; really, I couldn’t participate, because stuff like that would just kill me faster. And the one thing I don’t want, the thing I fear the most, is death. Anyone’s death really, my father was the first death I ever saw, but not the last, he tried to run out on my mother and I, but the minute he was running out the door, he was killed by a drive-by.
But, now . . . I’m laying half dressed in my boyfriends’ room, and he’s still asleep, with his arm around my waist. I should feel safe, but instead, I’m worried that I could have to spend money on baby supplies instead of keeping ahead on my rent. I’m terrified, like I always am. It’s amazing I’m not like Phyre’s girlfriend, scared of everything. I probably should be, instead of jumping into danger every five minutes. Oh well, that’s me for you, in a nutshell. A walking disaster.
I slipped out of Blake’s arms and out of his bed, pulling my missing clothes on, I walked out of his room, down the stairs and out the door. Mom wasn’t going to be happy with me, seeing as I promised I’d be back before morning, and dawn was breaking as I walked out of his house. I’d taken with me, one of his strongest drinks, and took note of the bruise of Lorant’s face, and that his very strongest was missing, I sighed, he thought I didn’t know. But, he doesn’t remember when he hits me, only her. Only her. . . I let out a little sob, it didn’t make any sense! I was jealous of his sister! I wondered, briefly, what happened, since I’d noticed the blood on her. I hadn’t bothered thinking about it, I wondered, what cruel thing had happened to her now. Come to think of it, her angsty boyfriend wasn’t around. I decided to stop by his house . . .
The following Monday . . .
poor Lorant . . .so young to lose someone so close, I know the feeling, and I don’t want to wish it on her . . . but I must admit that I did, I wanted her to feel my pain, I wanted Blake all to myself. I wrote, ignoring the teacher hovering over my shoulder. I shifted, uncomfortable at him staring at my page and tapping his ruler in his hand. I absent mindedly attempted to swat the annoying gnat away, and ended up with detention.
One Year Later . . .
Collette was now about three months old, so angelic, she contradicted Blake and my own behavior. Seeing as we seem to fight more often now then we ever have. It hurt, having him yell, and annoyed me when he whined. I was getting harder to tell whether I wanted to kill, or kiss Blake. Jesus Christ! I’m only sixteen now, I’m to young for this kind of drama! A baby, a boyfriend, it was almost to much to handle. But, I kind of have to admit, it is fun making Blake change Collette, he swears like a sailor. It always makes me giggle a little.
Six Years Later . . .
Collette is getting pretty big, but she’s still tiny, like me. She’s getting so pretty, she’s already getting stares. I smiled when she walked in the door from school, holding up a paper with a gold star on it. I picked her up and set her on my hip as I read the paper, and congratulated her. “Do you want a cookie?” I asked, reaching into the cookie jar and offering a fresh chocolate chip cookie. She grabbed it, said a quick thanks and gobbled down the cookie, I set her down on one of the bar stools. “Do you have any homework?” I asked her, she pulled it out and we began to work on it.
Ten Years Later . . .
I lay lazily on the couch, Collette was supposed to be on a date with her boyfriend, Dylan. I was recovering from a fun few hours of getting high, and drinking out my supply of vodka. It was, to say the least, an interesting combination. I didn’t hear Blake walking up behind me, I didn’t notice the gun in his hand, but I felt the pain in my stomach as he shot me, and saw my world go black.
End, Part I Noelle’s Story.