mmhm, thought it was time for another story. i have absolutely no idea what this story will be about, actually. seriously, all i know that it'll be based on a 15 year old girl's life, in first person. so go with the flow, mipeeps (: i really hope you like this in particular, and i will try my hardest to DEATH to keep this one alive [hmm... kinda of an oxymoron (:]. which it probably won't, but still, HOPE FOR ME (:
Chapters:
~Prologue : UP! Page 1
~Chapter 1 (The Past) UP! Page 1
~Chapter 2 (Confessions) UP! Page 1
-- Edited by Mosspaw on Saturday 19th of December 2009 12:15:16 AM
My heart throbbed silently as my legs and arms thrashed in the pale white, foamy water. They were numb, jelly. I couldn't feel them. My eyes burned with the pain of salt and my body felt so tired. So very tired. But I had to keep fighting, for my life, my family's life, and every other thing in my world. But I was tired, and all I would ever want was to close my eyes and drift into the underworld.
I kicked, forcing my legs to move. My arms waved around in the air, crazily. I was sinking, I was sure of it. My lungs couldn't reach oxygen. My eyes refused to stay open. And every time I tried to breathe, I choked in salty water. I couldn't reach the safety of land. I was lost in the wide ocean. I knew life would lose, this one time. I knew death would overcome me, that nothing, NOTHING, would come and save me. So I let myself rest, closing my eyes and letting my body stay still for once. I drifted down the ocean, deeper and deeper into the deep sea. I was almost positive I died until I felt a nudge in my left arm.
Panic overflowed me. Was it a shark? I had a cut, a cut on my left arm a few weeks ago. Oh no, was it healed yet? Did a shark smell my blood? I knew things like this were slightly impossible -- I was already dead, I think -- but human panic took over. I started kicking and kicking again, my rest disturbed. I wanted to fight, once again.
Suddenly, I heard a voice. It was soft and silent-like, but I was sure it was there. "Don't panic, honey," it said. "It's safe now. You're safe now." I wanted to scream. Obviously, the shark got me and I was in Heaven up above. Though I finally reached salvation, I didn't want to. I knew I was supposed to be happy, but how could I when I was only fifteen with a life, and dead? I wanted to live with my family, my girlfriends, and my puppy. But Jesus didn't. Why did he strip away my life so suddenly?
I felt myself get pulled onto soft, burning land. My body no longer felt the swoosh of the water next to me, but sunlight and sand. I forced my eyes open. At first, I couldn't see anything. But then they adjusted.
The palm trees, beach, and water. I was alive. Still, I guess. I felt a sudden joy but I wasn't quite sure about it. I numbly made my hand reach up. My throat burned and eyes stung.
"Mom.." I croaked, not sure if she was there. "Mo.." My eyes flung open as the familiar voice, the soft, calm voice spoke. Only there was panic in it this time.
"Shailee, Shailee, you're safe now," she whispered. I sighed. My nostrils flared slowly, oxygen barely slipping in. I felt weird after awhile, after being on the beach for some time.
Then I realized the hot lifeguard was performing CPR on me.
awah, thanks for all the comments buds (: i will try to update every day, but since this week is exam week for me, i'll make these [most likely] short, if i'm able to come on.
Chapter 1 (The Past)
I never really thought about how the world -- the universe, to be exact -- was made up. For all my life, even as a little kid, I was brought up by very religious parents. They were firmly Christians, teaching me about God and Heaven and stuff. I didn't really care, I was too young to. For me, God was just a part of my life and I thought everyone believed in it.
But things changed, huh. My father died in a car accident, which brought me closer to God, asking -- praying -- why he died, why did he have to go. And then, my mom, being widowed, decided to ditch my home-schooling and decided to just send me on down to a public school down the street. I prayed every day before lunch at school, and people made fun of me. Half didn't even know what the heck I was doing. Then, the world opened wide for me and I realized... I was quite an odd ball.
Yeah, so I'm Shailee, 15, attending Aiming High. Ironic, huh. Aiming High. Aiming is actually a last name, her name is Stefani Aiming. She died of cancer, I think, so my school took on her name. Aiming High. Coincidence.
I guess I'm just real different, now that I think about it. I'm the only one at my school with blackouts of my past. I suddenly remember something one day, some part of something, but then the vision fades. One in particular, and this one still haunts me ever day.
The car was black. Black as night. Someone was pulling me on my right arm, dragging me across the road. He was a man, quite tall, with all black on. Another was waiting in the car, and there was one opening the trunk. I wanted to scream so bad, but I couldn't. My mouth was taped shut and my hands, my arms, my everything, were tied together. I couldn't move.
My legs were unusually cold. My little blue dress was a bit too small, though I insisted to wear it. It came above my knees, showing my little, plump, 3-year old legs. They stuffed me into the back and my right leg got a scratch. Then, the men drove off in a hurry. I didn't even have time to scream for my mommy.
That's not the only one of those stuff that I had. Sometimes, i'd dream of being a little, chubby baby girl who would eat mush. I remember always having a big, red bow on my head, clipped to my thin, brown hair. I remember having a mother and a father, one who looks completely different from Mom and Dad. But.. I hadn't seem my dad for so long...
Those memories always come back. Sometimes when I dream, or when I'm really bored. Once, I started screaming in class because I remembered those flashbacks, and remembered the dark black van. They're always the same. And they always haunt me.
I don't know exactly what they're about. I don't want to tell Mom, because then she'll call my physiologist -- I know, I go crazy sometimes -- and spill her guts out about my little worries. I know she's only doing the best for me, but sometimes the best is too good. Like Mom has always been super protective around me. Even before my dad passed away, she would make sure that I had a helmet on while biking, my seatbelt on, and I was never allowed in the front seat of the car until I was 5'2 and age 13, weighing 101 pounds. A bit over the limit, but she insisted.
But now, those memories come back more and more vividly, with stuff that I never even dreamed of. Since I nearly drowned. It's scary, all those stuff. I get scared out of my mind, I sometimes wake up from a nightmare, screaming silently and sweating buckets. I even think I'm going crazy.
