So, I'm Chloe. If you met me on a forum site, then I'm Raine. Sometimes I write things. I'm putting finished stories on here. (so many unfinished stories I have..) Sometimes i write poems too, I put those on my tumblr, if you care to see them. It's iknowmyabcs.tumblr.com. If you want to know my personality and all that, you won't find it in this description, okay? If you want to know my personality, you'd get to know me. You wouldn't be looking for it in a description.

20100509

Confessions

This isn't a story, this is a rant.

I lived 13 years of my life contendly, as a shy, gullible, naive, ugly little girl. I never thought much of myself, even then, but at least I was happy(ish). I thought everyone else in my school was stupid for having boyfriends and girlfriends in middle school, I thought they were too young. I also thought freshman year would be too young- but now I don't. Now the one thing I crave is attention from anybody. Which reminds me, I used to be a bit homophobic and I was deathly scared of liking girls, but that changed too. I'm not even sure if I like guys or girls or both anymore, but I know I like you. That's it. lots has changed about me, I can't even remember that little girl I used to be. I murdered her. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but I murdered her. She's gone. My brother used to call me a stupid little girl, and now he calls me an emo otaku.

So this is where you come in. I remember when I first met you, I thought you were a (gorgeous) sophmore. it was just a simple little crush, knowing nothing about you and thinking that you were cute. The I slowly learned more about you, from things my friends, your friends, your formspring or anybody told me and from the few small conversations we've had. And plenty of people told me you're total jerk and that I'm better off without you. I really don't give a shit. I need to learn stuff like this for myself, not by word-of-mouth, and I'm going to continue to pine for you and wish i was part of your life.

I'm not well off anyway. I think I became depressed when one of my friends told me "I saw your crush in the hallway and i overheard him say you're creepy". I was in the library and after that I had to work with my group on a project. I was about to cry, even though I had no way to tell if my friend was lying to me or not, but why would they? Can you guess what happened when i got home? I cried. and cried. and cried.

Then I was over you, for like a day. But I guess we fall back into our own harmful traps, right? And then I started liking you again probably more than I was before. it fucking hurts, a lot, crushing. You know what else hurts? being single for your whole life when you just want to know what it's like to date someone. Wanting to kiss someone, badly. Being so depressed you resort to self-harm. just being me, it hurts. When the only people who call you pretty are your parents (to the point where it gets annoying and you think they're only trying to make you feel better about yourself), people who want gum from you and don't mean it, and people who've never seen you face-to-face. Do you know what it's like to be the outcast the outcasts, the person who doesn't fit in, the person who just wants to be loved by people besides her parents, the person who needs a self-esteem boost, the person who craves attention because they feel nobody cares?

And I don't know why being me hurts. it just does. I'm honeslty a spoiled little brat. I have lots of the material things I want - but they're really pointless little things here that distract me. Sure, i get attached to them, and I even named my laptop. And sure I hoard my things. And sure somethign I wonder what I would do without them, but I could survive without them. Items don't give me happiness. My happiness depends on other people. I hate to admit it, but it's true.

And do you know what happens when they can't maintain that happiness? I cry myself to sleep. I bite myself, hard (It's a weird way of self-harm, but at this time it works for me), and I tell myself I won't resort to cutting and I'll be in deep shit with my parents if I do. The I realize the things I hate - I'm an ugly bitch and nobody loves me. and it's my fault, and I shouldn't feel this way because many people would love to have a life like mine. which just makes me cry and hurt myself more.

And I can't even care anymore, I just want to go die in a whole somewhere unless someone can make me feel happy or content like I used to be. But there's this little tiny thing called hope, and it's the only thing really keeping my alive. The hope that one day everything will be better, so I'm trudging through the thick snow of life, searching for summer. But before that day comes, I know I would risk my life for you, and you probably wouldn't care. but i'd die for you, I know I would, because I'm the biggest fucking idiot on the planet.

20100419

Gabrielle.

Most people think that children can't be depressed, or that depression can't start in childhood. They're wrong.
Her name is Gabrielle. She has golden ringlets of hair. Her eyes are piercing blue. Two days ago, she turned five. Three days ago, her grandmother died. Today is her funeral. It was open casket. Gabrielle wears a gray party dress she got two days ago. She waits in line to see the corpse. Finally, it's her turn. She stares down at the cadaver, and all she can think is: It's all my fault, Granny. I shouldn't have yelled at you when I wanted a cookie. I was a bad girl.
And that's where it started. After that day, she was never the same. Most days, she was moody. She didn't want to talk. She ignored the efforts of others to get her to talk. She usually just sat. Doing nothing. Saying nothing. Being nothing. And this went on for months. Her parents grew weary, and began to fight. They couldn't stand the idea of their dear little Gabbie being sad. But Gabrielle just thought, It's my fault they're fighting. I'm worthless.
And then they got divorced.
Gabrielle ended up in the custody of her grandfather. The widower. Of course she thought, he must hate me. I killed his wife. it's my fault! All my fault... But nobody knew, and she grew up like this. Sad, alone, upset. And soon enough, she was twelve. She got to experience the joy of middle school. She was teased constantly. She would cry. They would laugh. She would cry harder. They would laugh harder. This went on for months. Then she began to cut. It was her escape, her release. She did this for years, going through middle school without a single friend. And nobody actually cared about her, for her grandfather was far too old to care for her. She had to feed them both, but she didn't do such a great job of that. And she had to clean, which is why the house was a mess. Why did it matter? She didn't care. A couple more years passed.She was in highschool now.
In highschool, she discovered the world of crushing. He was nothing special. An average guy, with average skill, and no special skills or talent. But why was he different? He'd said hi. One word. Two letters. Hi. Nothing spectacular. Just a hi, after class one day. A random hi with no meaning behind it. But how she cherished that hi.
A few more months passed, and she decided it was time to admit her feelings. I'll tell him today, she decided, thinking with heart, not her head. Hoping that it'd finally be her fairytale, that life would finally be okay for her.
But that's not how life works.
She admits her feelings when he's in front of his friends, something you're never supposed to do. He laughs, his friends laugh. She cried. He laughs harder, his friends laugh harder. She cries harder, and runs home, more depressed and dejected than ever. She cries and she thinks and she acts.

The next day, she is found hanging from a tree in front of her school. There's no note, no nothing. And this is how she will always be remembered, a depressed little girl with a story that should have been heard.

20100417

Halley & Anne - Halley's Story[part2]

This is the second part of a two-part story, Halley & Anne

"I was used." says Halley. "It begins like any other day. I walk in to school one day, and there's a new kid. His name was Bryce. I looked at him, and he was omigawsh hot. So, I go up to him, introduce myself, and all that. He was in some of my classes, and we sit together. We're talking and passing notes the whole time. Soon enough, we're best friends. he had a girlfriend, though. But as a joke, we'd flirt with each other when she wasn't around."

She smiles a bit at the memory.

"A couple weeks passed, and his girlfriend decides to dump him. He was seriously depressed. We stopped our joke-flirting. I still stood by him though, and I comforted him. Over time, he got better. I was going out with someone else though, but he was an idiot. We broke up soon after. A few more days pass, and Bryce asks me out. Of course I said yes. Being his girlfriend was like heaven. He was good to me. He never showed up late, he never canceled, he never stood me up. He always paid, and we was always doing sweet things like giving me a rose. He always called me, and it was perfection. "

She looks thoughtfully at the ceiling a bit, remembering the good times.

"But then he started getting awful," she continued. "he was pressuring me. I said no thousands of times. He continued to push and push. It almost got to the point where he was hitting me. I got so tired of it, but I didn't want to break up with him, so I let him feel me up a little bit. Then he stopped pressuring me for a while, and once again, it was perfection. A few more weeks passed, and at this point, I thought I loved him. I was so stupid. Then, one day, he politely brings up the topic. I agree, because I thought I was ready."

She begins to scowl a bit, at the thought of her stupidity.

"So, we go to this really disgusting motel. We get all ready, and then it happens. I didn't actually enjoy it that much. And it hurt a bit. Then we finish. He looks at me and says 'That sucked, you're awful, we're breaking up.' and he laughs. Then he leaves, and with my clothes. Then a few weeks pass, and I realized my period is late. I got really freaked out. I bought some pregnancy tests. They were all positive. Except for one, but it was one of those really cheap ones. I shudder at the thought of his child growing inside me, so that's why I'm here."

A while after she finishes, an attendant enters the room.
"Halley Summers, Anne Winters, a doctor will be attending to you shortly. Follow me."

And side by side, they do.

Halley & Anne - Anne's Story[part1]

This is the first part of a two-part story, Halley & Anne.

Two girls are sitting side by side in the waiting room.

"Hi, I'm Halley" says one. She appears to be the kind of girl who's usually cheery. but today, her big, brown eyes are filled with sadness. Her short, mousy hair is in two ponytails. She looks like she didn't make much effort today, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and some old tennis shoes.

"Anne." says the other. There's something different about her, as though she's been through more experiences than the average teen. If you looked into her eyes, They were shocking blue, but desolate. Her dark hair reaches her waist, and she wears a long patterned dress.
"so, what are ya in for?" asks Halley.
"Rape."
"Oh." She says, looking a bit dejected,
"It's okay, I'm finally ready to talk about it" says Anne. "It will be nice to let it out."
Halley perks up a bit, and Anne begins her story.
"It was a few weeks ago, a family gathering. You think your family wouldn't hurt you, but they would. Actually, a lot more people get rped by people they love and trust. The whole 'stranger danger' thing? it's a lie."

She's shaking a bit now, but she continues.

"It was my uncle Greg. He was always my favorite uncle. As a child, he always gave me things when I came to visit. So, it was late. by this time, most of the kids were asleep, and the adults were drunk. but not Uncle Greg, because he has acid reflux, and he's not supposed to drink. And me, well, I was tired, but I didn't want to go to bed."
Tears begin to well up in her eyes.
"So, he tells me he has a special surprise for me. I got all excited, and he tells me to go with him into the cellar, because that's where it is. I follow him, and he locks the door behind him. I'm too tired to pay much attention to it, though. The next thing I can remember, I'm on the ground screaming to be let go. He's on top of me, and my skirt came off. I scream louder, and he hits me. I scream again, he hits me harder, so I shut up. I close my eyes, and wait for it to be over. It's finally over, and he looks at me, winks, gives me a big, dumb smile and says 'Don't tell anyone about our little adventure, okay?' And for a few days, I listen, because I'm scared."

She's sobbing uncontrollably now.

"If you don't want to continue, you don't have to." says Halley
"No, it's fine," says Anne. "I need to deal with it anyway, and this helps."
"Don't push yourself, okay?"
"I won't. So, I don't tell anyone about it for a few days. Finally, I tell my mom. She calls the police, and I talk to them. hey take some DNA samples and all the things they need to work on my case. They have irrefutable proof that it's Uncle Greg, and he goes to jail. And it's all fine for a while. But then I feel really sick. I'm throwing up, and then I get scared. I ask my mom to let me get a pregnancy test. She does, and as it turns out, I'm pregnant. That's why I'm here."

Halley gives her a hug, and Anne feels a bit better.

"Go on then," says Anne. "Let's hear your story."

20100416

Hell - Part III (Final)

It's been several weeks since entering this hellhole. Except, it's not that bad anymore. I'm used to it now, and I kind of like it here. For one thing, they feed us. I get much more food here than when I was on my own. And I got to be a bartender. out of all the slaves, because I assume we're all slaves here, is the best. We get picked on less, because all the filthy necrophiliacs are too lazy to get up and walk to the bar. They wait for the waiters and busgirls to come to their table. And usually they go for those caged things before they go for us live ones. And I don't mind the screwing that much. It's not to bad, except for the part where you filthy and disgusting and violated. And one of my "regulars" is really nice to me. He gives me this sweet stuff they used to call candy, I think it was. Apparently it's really expensive and hard to find.
As I'm finally getting used to it here, I overhear them talking about plans to move me.
"This one," says one of them, in his disgustingly sick voice "Works hard. Take your men and mover her to Level B work. She may be more useful there."
"Yes, master" is the hoarse reply of his slave.
I tried to ignore it, and fell asleep. I woke up in a different room. It looked exactly the same, but it was smaller. Much smaller. They put me in a new hell. I'm not happy to learn what they're going to do with me next, but I sit and wait.
They come for me, and drag me to some large room. It's full of those caged creatures. I realize that this is where they, ick, maintain them. Some people are perfuming them, some are sewing up stubs, some are chopping off hands, and the unlucky ones are putting on the muzzles.
I'm one of the unlucky ones. They toss me one of them, and then toss me a muzzle.
But I don't want to muzzle this disgusting thing in front of me. What if I get a glimpse of it's eyes again? I'd rather have it bite me.

And it does.

Hell - Part II

After I was dragged through that awful room, I was dragged through a corridor and into a backroom. The walls and floor and ceiling were painted white. They untied and degagged me, then tore off all my clothes, and shoved me into the room. They slammed the door behind me, and I could hear them locking various bolts. No use to try and kick it down, I suppose. I took a better look at my surroundings. The whiteness of the room didn't do anything to hide all the filth. There was a chamber pot, and several black mats on the floor. There was one tiny window, and it was painted black. The only light in the room came from the dim, uncovered lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

Then I saw her. She was whimpering in the corner, huddled up into the fetal position. She had beautiful, but greasy brown hair that reached her elbows. Her sad gray eyes were filled with pure hatred. And she was heavily pregnant. If she hadn't been subject to hell, I know she would have been beautiful.
"Hello" I said.
No answer. She stared blankly at me, and then looked away.
"Please?" I asked, not expecting much.
"They're going to take my baby and kill me" she said, with such hate, and such anger. She seemed like she was about to cry, but I could tell all her tears had run dry. I knew she didn't want to talk, so I did something I can't remember doing: I hugged her. I hugged her for a long time. I grew tired, and I fell asleep like that. I woke up to her screaming.
"GET THIS MOTHEREFFING THING OUT OF ME. THIS IS TORTURE!"
I suppose they heard her, because the next thing I knew, they were in the room. They sedated her, and appeared to be sleeping. They grabbed some tools and cut her stomach open, and pulled out the child. It was a boy. I was about to puke, but I was worried of being punished, so I swallowed it. They didn't bother to sew her back up, and they left.

She never woke up.

Hell - Part I

The first thing I noticed in Hell was the girl. She couldn't have been old at all - she looked about 13 or 14. She had no hands. They looked as though they'd been chopped off and the stubs had been crudely sewn back together. Her mouth as muzzled, and her mouth kept snapping, gnawing, trying to get out and get food. Her once-beautiful hair was now greasy and disgusting and caked with blood. She reeked of death and decay covered up with cheap perfumes. her flesh was a sickly greenish color, and looked as though it were rotting away. But all of that was nothing compared to her eyes- those awful, awful eyes. They were rolled back into her head, only the whites showing. if you could call them the whites of her eyes. They were a crude and sickly yellow. The very thought of them still makes me shudder. in those eyes, i saw everything. All of time and eternity.

The girl was in a cage, screaming - if you could call the noise she made a scream - to get out. Then I noticed there were several more cages, with girls like her in them. Men were paying, yes paying, to go into them. Some people were dancing with them. Some paid extra to fuck those disgusting things. And the waiting men were cheering. Disgusting Necrophiliacs, I suppose. I believed those creatures, those things, to be dead. They looked inhumane. They had rotting flesh. They smelled of death. Were they what you call a "zombie"? They must be. The living dead. That's unnatural, gross, disgusting. They're dead, but they're not being respected. And after seeing what's in those eyes.. why would people do that? I didn't understand. but then again, this is hell.

After the creatures, there were bartenders. They were a bit older than those things, none older than 20. They were stark naked, so I suppose they had their clothes stolen. They were covered in filth and grime. Their eyes had such an awful sadness to them, as though they'd started into those eyes dozens of times. I watched as an impatient man, waiting for his turn in a cage, decided to walk over to the bartenders. He eyes them closely, ultimately picking the one who looked the cleanest and newest. he proceeded over to her, grabbed her, and well, raped her. She pleaded to let go, but he refused. "You're mine now" he said. "This is your life now, deal with it.". Her eyes silently pleaded with the others, and they looked back apologetically.

There was also waitresses and busgirls, who had to deal with the same thing. This place was a place for filthy, disgusting men. There was one thing worse though, there was also women who came to this place. They had this evil in their eyes, and they were enjoying the torture those girls and those things had to go through. And I knew if I didn't find a way to escape, I would end up dead, a slave, or someone who enjoys torture. All horrible fates, all were hell.