The Art Of Peer Pressure
  • Reads 242
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  • Parts 8
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  • Reads 242
  • Votes 1
  • Parts 8
  • Time 2h 0m
Ongoing, First published Jul 29, 2014
This is the realist shit I ever wrote.
Telling the story of my life;
This is how I cope.
Battling influence, drugs, violence,
I can can give you all the hype.
Hoping it would silence.
But it all seems to be speaking so loud.
And yet they still consume me and endow.
Don't they know what they're doing to me? 
Aren't they aware of the fear? 
It was once hidden, but now they know. 
"C'mon yo, you've got to be kid'n!" 
They joke, but I find no humor in the acts I take par.
"Man, what did I get myself into?" 
It all makes sense what my momma was trying to reassure. 
"That my darling, is The Act Of Peer Pressure."
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Finding Purpose (+18) ✔️

10 parts Complete

***this book contains suicidal thoughts and tendencies, may not be appropriate for younger audiences*** In which she looks for the purpose of life. Lily Carter's parents died in a car crash leaving her and Laura, girl was depressed long before her parents passed away and with all the problems turning up now, Lily felt more miserable - if that's even possible. With her journey to look for life's purpose and grab the small pinch of HOPE - which is ironically her second name -, will she finally snap at the pressure and finally end it all? or will a small light lit her darkened world of grief and loneliness? * "So you know. The little goth girl who gets bullied is indeed a mess. There's this mess in her head that eats her alive everyday isn't it? What to do now Kaden? Tell the whole neighborhood and recieve an award for taking out a crazy in this world?" I spit like vomit. His eyes warmed up as I finished, "Lily. It isn't like that" "What is it then? People stopped caring... they gave up, why aren't you?" I fought my tears. "Because I feel the need to care. Did Leigh hurt you? Did she hit you?" he finally noticed the unusual redness of my cheek. I don't like the way he told me he needed to care for me. I felt like an obligation, a responsibility that he is carrying and carrying leads to getting tired and when people gets tired, they give up. I don't want them to give up on me. But they will, so it's good not to make them care for me in the first place. "I never needed anyone. I stopped needing anyone before, why start now?" I uttered the words again. Why? There is nothing to fight for. No mama. No papa. No sister to love me. No one. So why would I waste my life and the time of others to fix what is already broken - and someone who doesn't want to be fixed? If I may add. Maybe I gave up. No, scratch that. I gave up a long time ago - when my parents died, my hope and purpose went away with them.