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Sixteen and confused, the young girl had lost her mom and was trying to find her way in the world. she leaves home to find answers to life question and to find her father. how can she keep herself and still be who she wants to be is the question what will she find when she finds her father? How will she stand when she's faced with the troubles of a new school as? How will she resist when Elijah Woods the hottest boy makes her his target? .... "Why won't you leave me alone?" I cried out and hit my hand on the floor, ignoring the pain in my scrapped knees. He bent forward bringing his lip closer to my ear. Heat spread on my face as his breath fanned my cheek. "You're adorable, I can't help it. Now get up" his voice moved from nice to harsh and he yanked me up. Deliberately bringing me close to his body. "Get your filthy hands off her" a voice boomed from behind us. I looked back and saw him approaching us. He was dressed in all black and looked so dangerous but I wasn't afraid of him. I loved him too much to be afraid of him like that..... (Unedited so there are errors here and there)

Hi my name is Storm St Clair. I'm a 16 year old girl, with problem's or so I'm told. My Mother died when I was 14 year's old. I live with my abusive Father who drink's like a fish and, when he is drunk which is all the time he hit's me, kick's me . When I'm alone and after my Father has beat me. I lock myself in my room and cut my arm's with a razor blade that is the only pain. I can control. Then one day a new boy start's at my school. Well it's a college but ,we call it school. This new guy is hot he's tall with short black hair and the body of a god, you know like on those film's on tv.

Warning: This story contains explicit scenes. Some themes can be triggering in this story. Including violence, sexual scenes, marijuana use and drinking. Tmnt fanfic. RaphaelxOC "Put me down!" I seethed as he climbed the fire escape. The movement of being upside down threatened to make me to hurl and I clutched onto his shell trying to shove myself upright. "Stop squirming unless you want me to drop you." "I'd rather be a pancake then be manhandled by you." He flung me off his shoulder and yanked me so close that I could see the brown flecks in his green eyes. "You're letting that fucker in your pants but you have a problem with me?" He growled. "It's none of your business." I snapped, my eyes challenging his. "He's twice your age Miya. What are you thinking? He's a creep." "It's just sex. It's not a big deal." He shoved me away and ran his hand down his face. "Do you seriously not have more respect for yourself than that?" His words stung in a way I hated. "No. I don't. So just go home and leave me alone." I tried to walk back to the ladder but he grabbed my arm. "Don't make me pick you up again."

My name is Karan. I stand 5" tall and weigh 98 pounds. I have long dark brown hair and hazel eyes. I have 12 siblings. Our parents were killed in a car wreck. I live with my boyfriend who is 7 years older then I am. I am still in school. I am in the 12 grade. My plan is to complete high school and attend college. I am not sure if I want to be a nurse, teacher, or social worker. Sometimes my boyfriend will hit me. I never know what sets him off. I had just finished my homework and was starting supper when I heard the living room door slam shut. I knew that it was not going to be a good night. As I turned around to say hi to Richard he punched me in the face. I fell to the ground and he kicked me in my side. He begged him to stop but he didn't. I don't know how long he beat me I must have passed out. I woke up to a quiet house. I slowly got up and walked to the closet where I had a bag packed with clothes, important papers, and around five thousand dollars. The money I managed to save for one year from my job. I grabbed the bag and my car keys snuck out of the house, got in my car and started driving. I kept driving until I was as far away as I could get.

Shanté: You were in her room, Jonathan! Jonathan: Ok, ok, I understand that but- Shanté: No, just shut up, ok! You hurt me. Badly. And- Jonathan: You hurt me too, Shanté. Quit playing victim all the damn time. Shanté: Well then I guess we shouldn't be together. We shouldn't talk, we shouldn't text, we shouldn't anything. We just might hurt each other again. He tears up which causes me to tear up. I let my tears run down my face & he continues to fight his tears but there's one that's at the literal edge of his eye waiting to be free Jonathan: ...but we're in love. Shanté: Well we're just going to have to be in love from afar. Jonathan: Shanté, I JUST got you back. Please. I can't...I can't lose you again. The tear that was on the edge of his eye finally drops & another falls out the other. I look into the eyes I once fell in love with & force myself to say Shanté: ...I can't do this anymore. *leaves* 🚨🚨🚨🚨Cuss words, sexual content, & n-word use🚨🚨🚨🚨 -I posted this story last year but decided to make a couple of changes🙂- Ps - Every character in this story is black EXCEPT for Elizabeth😗✌️

Why was there a boy in my room? There was a boy in my room! "Shoo, shoo." I whacked him with the umbrella as he backed up next to the window. All I did was make a wish. Just a few words I called a sentence and a few sentences I called a paragraph. How was I supposed to know that it would turn out like this. What even was this? I was him. He was me. We were...we? "How can I be you!" I shouted in panic. This wasn't making sense. He? Me? We're...us? "Because I'm you." He answered calmly and my mouth dropped open. Wait, what? "How can you be me and I, you?" I bellowed, confused. This was way too much for the little brain cells I had left. "You're a boy!" "Okay, now that's just being sexist." He stated, leaning against my book case with a grin on his face. What the hell was going on!? * Lenna Adams was living no easy life. Her once perfect family was now in ruins. She loved her dad, but now she felt nothing but hatred and disappointment towards him. She adored her mom, but now all she felt was pity towards her. She once appreciated her life too, but let's face it...everything was a mess in Lenna's life. He claimed he could help her. He claimed that he could make her enjoy life again. And the only way to do it, was to become her.

Inside you will find a mixture of both, extremely RAW and refreshingly HEALING accounts of my personal war with my past. Unfortunately, Childhood sexual abuse is far too common, and many of share similar experiences. Looking back, what I could have used more than anything was someone to tell me "You're not alone, there is a lightness through the darkness, you can heal from this and most importantly don't EVER stop telling your story to make others comfortable". I've learned that silence is the best weapon for a predator, and I for one, have never been really good at doing what I'm told. I don't intend on starting now. I wear my scar as reminder that I hold the power in my own story, it is mine to tell and I won't make myself sick keeping quiet because my truths are hard to swallow, other people's comfort is not my problem. My Goal is rather simple, to let the readers know, they too are not alone. If you are a survivor, even if you still feel like a victim, this is my personal message to you. "You are strong, and it wasn't your fault. Tell someone... tell anyone...tell everyone... We shift from victims to survivors when we speak up and tell our stories. There's nothing wrong with you, and the light will shine again. The longer you sit in silence the more power your abuser still holds over you, wipe your face warrior, because there's a lion right inside of you, DONT EVER GIVE UP!" *This story is FULL of TRIGGERS, please be careful reading if triggers are hard for you, your mental health matters* *I own all the Rights to all parts of this book*

C O M P L E T E D "Date me," he spins the whiskey around in the glass and fixes me with a smirk. I roll my eyes the moment the words roll off his tongue. "Are you really that desperate?" I scoff in response, fighting back the ever prominent blush. His smirk widens as my face flushes red and he leans over the countertop towards me. I step back. "Name your price," he replies, his words cool and smooth like ice cream. Only I would reference food at a moment like this. Anger rolls around in the pit of my stomach; I may not have money but I have morals. "You can't buy people, Grant," The words fall out of my mouth and he recoils as if slapped. I'm glad. Stupid rich boy and his player ways. "Bet I can," I resist the urge to slap the smug look of his face and scoff again. "Right," I drag out the word, rolling my eyes. I step away from the counter and turn my back on him, desperate to leave. But he speaks again. "Date me. Two months. If you fall for me for my money, I win. If I fall for you for who you really are, you win." I consider this for a moment. I have nothing to loose and really not much to gain. But I'm so desperate to put the asshole in his place that I can't resist. I'm a sucker for a bet. "Deal."

BASED ON TRUE EVENTS. CONTAINS: DOMESTIC ABUSE, RAPE, A MIX OF EMOTIONS, SUICIDE AND RECOVERY. I had spent 4 years living my adolescent life with my abuser. What started out as my dream man, ended with me being diagnosed with PTSD, temporary amnesia and anxiety. We met in 2016, married the following year, and moved across the country - from there, my hell began. It started with small things; a change of appearance here, I was no longer allowed to be vegetarian, my friends a distant memory and my family dragged through the dirt. Then, as if my life couldn't get any worse, the physical side began. Early morning rape, weekend violence and the worst part - seeing the man I loved strangle my cat 6 ft of the ground, her claws clinging at air and I looked to him. He was smiling. She was dying. His eyes never left mine. He knew I had no control. I was weak against him. I wish I could tell you I left, but he made sure I was only his. Even now, years have passed, he still owns me. Written and created by Ren Marie Connelly. COPYRIGHT MATERIAL 2021.