It's a bubbly life ^~^



Hi, 4th of July. 

The universe fucked me over. I didn’t consent to it. Does that technically mean the universe raped me? Damn. Shit. 

I was dizzy and tripping over my own feet. Everything was spinning. My eyesight was blurry. It was an impressionistic painting. I wanted realism, but I’m not sure I’m even in touch with that anymore. Reality. I collapsed against the shower wall and look at you water dripped. down both of us. I scraped against the wall and you washed me off. I could feel peach-a-Rita ready to make its way back up the wrong way, but I kept still. 

“Get your balance in check before we go to fireworks.” 

“Stay close to me that way there won’t be any trouble,” you scolded. 

Why would there be trouble? Some hoodrat kid wouldn’t do anything in front of all these people. Would they? I was dressed somewhat appropriately. With this generation there isn’t appropriate. 

Golden pixie dust glistened from the heavens over and over again. I leaned up against you. I didn’t think I believed in soul mates, but maybe I did. 


Here’s that post I promised you lol. 

Ok so my love life…or my mess? 

Right so that guy who I’ve been seeing since February is possessive and paranoid and lowkey telling me how to dress so that other people don’t look at me. So that’s a thing, but when I am with him I feel so special…like a princess. My friend says that it’s asshole syndrome he acts like an ass 90% of the time so the 10% that he is nice it seems amazing. Maybe that’s true…? I don’t know. 

The kid from outpatient has chilled out, but I can’t get him to admit that he is clingy as fuck. Oh well. 

The friend who told me about the asshole syndrome is way too nice. I don’t feel like I deserve him. I like him, but I just don’t deserve someone that nice. I feel like it’s been beaten into me that I don’t deserve to be treated nicely all the time. That’s an awful way to think. I wish I didn’t feel that way. I like this friend very much, but it’s too much. I don’t deserve him. 

I deserve to be disciplined and treated like a princess when I am good. That’s how it’s always been. 


I don’t write on here that often anymore because I’m trying to live life and not dwell on it.

Hi, what’s up? It’s been a good amount of time. I’m back at normal school this week. Wednesday was my first day back and honestly it has been amazing. I love being back at school. There is just one underlying thing that has been irritating me very much. That would be that I don’t get to turn in my drawing portfolio I have worked on all year. I haven’t worked on it since I got put into outpatient I’ve been focusing on myself. Thus I have 4/12 pieces done for this half of the year oops. That’s ok though. I can retake it next year whatever. It’s just kind of a bummer because everyone’s hyper and excited and turning theirs in and well I’m not…it makes me anxious to be in AP drawing, but I know it doesn’t make me any less than the rest of them.

There was this kid from outpatient and I let him take me in a date. We hung out a total of two times and he became super clingy. Fuck that shit I’m out. We don’t mess with codependency. Also all this other crap is happening too which is a delight, but otherwise I really cannot complain. Let’s just say my “love life” is such a mess I would rather just not date anyone Jesus Christ. The thing he said that bugged me the most is that he believes he’s the only one who can provide me with happiness which is just about the stupidest thing I’ve heard. Not true whatsoever. I’m capable of being happy without a relationship I’m not that delicate.


Perspective, the way we see things. Narrow minded or open minded? That’s all up to you. That’s what I’ve learned. 

Today I came out to my mom as bisexual in family therapy it was the most scary thing I’ve ever done. She started crying and told me, “*insert my name here*  you’re a beautiful and smart girl and you deserve to be happy and I love you no matter what.” 

It felt underwhelming. I thought she was going to tell me to go to hell because of the church she attends. The people there are narrow minded so I in a way stereotyped her as one of them. That makes me the narrow minded one doesn’t it? She told me it doesn’t matter because I’m me and even though she is sad we don’t share the same beliefs that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love me. She told me if I get anything out of outpatient she wants me to be able to be more accepting of myself and to stop pushing her away because I pushed so hard she took a step back. I hadn’t considered that…

A lot has happened. 

On Sunday I got the cops called on me because my friend thought I was suicidal after she saw my cut up arm. I won’t go too much into that because it’s messed up, but I’m not angry with her. She did what she thought she had to do to care for a friend. I’m in outpatient now. If you don’t know what that is look it up because I don’t care to explain its a mess. 

I blocked him after he told me to suck it up and stop being depressed because I can’t just stop that’s stupid. He’s negative for me. He made a fake snapchat and I wasn’t going to add it till I saw “insertmynameheresdaddy” and I was like what in the world. He apologized and said he loves me. I don’t feel the same at all. He is manipulative. I told him it’s over he ignored me and just said “um no that’s not how this works.” 

Age does not always equal maturity I guess. That sucks. He keeps talking to me like I’m his. If he comes anywhere near me (because he knows where I work and where I live) then I will be scared. Right now I’m just freaked out a little. He’s possessive and insists I am his soulmate. 

Basically I am working on myself and taking outpatient more seriously now. Originally I wasn’t. I was angry I had to be there, but I have things motivating me now to do my best to get out. 

-my friend is being bullied by a girl who is manipulative and oversensitive(I know this because I used to be friends with the bitch) 

-I want to continue work on my portfolio 

-I want to go to regular school very badly 

-I want my normal life back. 

How have you guys been? I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a long time. Therapy is very stressful. 


I have become very popular on snapchat. It’s weird because normally I’m not that popular. Then again it is mostly fuckbois. 

I met up with him last night. We spent the night together and I was so depressed I couldn’t even look him in the eyes when I said I loved him. I started crying about it. It was pathetic. I have a hugeass belt mark across my ass from my punishment and also hand marks. I’m pale so it’s not that difficult to leave your mark on me. We fucked a total of 6 times (that night and the next morning). I am sore and it hurts to sit. He kept making me drink alcohol because he bought it for me and money’s right right now. It would be rude if I didn’t drink it. He was hitting it from behind and I just kept saying in my head again and again (please please please be done). 

When he was done I swallowed it all. Then I ran to the bathroom and coughed and threw up. He made me bleed down there, I got a nosebleed, and I threw up. It was all very intense to say the least. I downed like 4 drinks. 

It wasn’t all sex though. It was sweet the next morning he took me to see beauty and beast. All the songs are stuck in my head now. We cuddled so hardcore. It was euphoric. Except work today has not been fun. I am so hungover. 

Last night.

Last night he decided that he just had to see me. When he makes up his mind like that I try to comply and be obedient. I wanted to see him too anyways. It had been two weeks after all. I was scared that he would see my arm. I had relapsed and knew that it wouldn’t go over well with him.  “Why would you cut your beautiful body?” That’s the question he asked me last time. I fade in and out of reality and the past. It’s always the past that makes me do it. The moment I’m living in isn’t that bad. I sit in my room alone with music blasting obnoxiously loud and I look out the window at the birds and other things as they merrily move along their way.

He did not see my arm. He didn’t have a chance to get me out of my clothes last night. It was too risky. Instead his hand slipped down my jeans and teased me as we drove around with food blasting the radio.

“Look at me every once in awhile,” he demanded

“I’m sorry,” I whispered carefully.

“Keep acting like a kidnap victim and maybe I’ll treat you like one.” He tried to lighten the mood.

I remember being embarrassed as I told him he should undo his pants for me. This feeling that I felt obligated to repay the favor. I had to get him off too.

Tonight, I might see him again. I’m really nervous because he will probably see my arm. I might cover it with band aids and say I fell. I hate lying to him though. He said we could spend the evening together tonight if his roommates are going to be out. I’m very excited to see him if he can.  This type of relationship requires honesty and trust between us. A little girl should not lie to her dominant or defy him in any way.

I am a little bit upset though because it has occurred to me that I don’t know how many spankings I’m getting for being a sassy little brat towards him. I won’t know when it’s going to stop. It will hurt to sit. Wish me luck sigh.

Intimacy freaks me out.

All that touchy/love stuff just scares me. Some people find it cute and stuff, but I honestly despise it. I mean I’m down with that sexual goodie goodie gumdrops ish but otherwise imma have to take a pass you guys. Calm down the PDA.

Things I don’t like in a relationship: 

-When the other person gets too clingy and doesn’t let me breathe.

-When my partner tries to take me away from my friends and or always has to hang out with me. C’mon man.

-When someone hugs you so damn tight you can’t even breathe anymore.

-When they don’t remember really important stuff you tell them like things that you don’t like or things that make you uncomfortable.  (I’m not talking about your birthday or anything that’s not a big deal to me honestly who has the time to remember birthdays thanks Facebook for remembering you the real MVP.)

-When they won’t let me pay for stuff because it makes them,”less of a gentleman.”

-When they are overly sexual about everything and are unable to calm down about that sort of thing.

-When they’re paranoid about me or my intentions (totally get it though because same.)

-When things move too fast or too slow. (Never say I love you on the second date you damn fool.)

-When they aren’t emotionally available.

-prolonged direct eye contract freaks me out and embarrasses me.

Things I dig in a relationship: 

-Cuddles and Netflix.

-Neck kisses. (Need I say more, like really?)

-That prime golden music taste


-Cute surprises and stuff like that

-Sleeping in his arms.

-Him stroking my hair.

-His eyes are the prettiest blue. I like to look at them.

-showering together (last time I did this I left a red hair in his shower and he got in trouble with his roommates my bad haha.)

-Chinese food.

Making this list made me realize what a contradicting person I am I like closeness, but not too much?

I want you guys to read my short story before revision week when it gets edited :)

Introductory note: The formatting always gets screwed up on WordPress whenever I upload it sooooo…I guess I’ll just roll with it! Enjoy and let me know what you think. My creative writing teacher said to dumb down the main character and not have her have mental issues, but I think it enhances the story. He said make it about an imperfect girl becoming a little more perfect. I didn’t tell him I wouldn’t change it. I hope that when he reads it he will get how it all fits together. 
Chapter 1: If it’s destroying you, is that love?

A girl came out of an old house on the streetway. Illuminated by the
streetlights, she walked cautiously and at a fast pace away from the house. Only to come to the top of the street. She waited pacing back and forth.
A worn jeep rolled up to the unpromising street way. She walked across the
main road with urgence. The man in the driver’s seat disappeared from view for a few seconds and the door was opened tentatively. The girl hesitated, but she got in. Bruises were barely conceivable on her forearms and legs. Cigarette smoke swirled around inside the jeep, this was her escape.
He looked at her as he drove.
“Are you sick?” he said.
“Am I sick?” She looked out the window.
“Sick or maybe delusional, why would you think I would be asleep?”
“I don’t know, sometimes nobody’s…”
“Well, I’m always.” He placed his hand over hers.
“Your arm–”
“Fuck off…” She shifted away from him
“Charlotte…” His hands gripped the steering wheel. He bit his lip.
Charlotte turned her head and shivered nervously looking over her shoulder.
Two beaming headlights trail behind them. Following. Smoke encompassed her; it’s hard to breathe. Yet it wraps around her like a warm linen. The cityscape rose up in the distance.The streets were empty and illuminated as the jeep pulled into the city, out of place.
The jeep pulled up to a wilting hotel in decay. Cars filled the parking lot. The
man got out of the car, worn out black converse tapping on the pavement. He walked around the back of the jeep and stopped for a minute in front of the girls door. He tentatively opened it up and roughly grabbed her wrist, much more harshly than necessary. He tugs her out of the jeep like a small rag doll. She tumbles to the ground, but doesn’t fall. He holds her up carefully, steadying. She swayed back and forth slowly she looked up into his eyes.

“I want to feel something.” She ran her hand over his cheek.
“Or maybe you want to feel nothing.”
“You don’t know anything–”
“What makes you think you know something? You don’t know anything.
You’re fucking sixteen, Charlotte.” He yanked her wrist.
“You’re naive if you think people actually care about you–”
“They care more than you ever–”
“Shut up.”
“Grow up.” He looked at the ground.
About a week later, she laid on his bed with minimal clothing on,
shivering underneath the thin blanket. The big t.v. was static in the background and she did not care to pay it any attention. She was more concerned about where he had gone. She sat curled up in a ball looking down at her hands. They shook violently, tears began streaming down her cheeks.

The door creaked open.
“Hey Ace,” she looked up at him.
“Do you want a drink?”
“What’ve you got?”
“Liquor, coolers.”
“Ok,” she was visibly shivering.
He left the room and returned a short time later a blue drink in his
hand. She looked blankly at the glass as he sat down next to her on the bed. He
looked at her expectant, she sat completely still.

He inhaled sharply.
“Have you ever had a drink before?”
“Not an alcoholic one.”
“Well I meant…”
“Is this ok?”
“It’s 15% it’s some pussy ass alcohol compared to what I
usually drink.” He strokes her back.
She took a big drink and almost immediately started coughing.
“Damn that burns..”
“Oh sweetheart we have a ways to go with you.”

Maybe two hours later the drink kicked in Charlotte fell lazily on top of
him. He smiled and held the small girl. He kissed her forehead and pushed her blonde hair out of her face.
“What have I done?”
Chapter 2: Broken

“Yes mom.” Charlotte poured the cup of essential oils down the drain.
“I drank it all.”

Charlotte walked up the steps to her room. She locked the door behind
her and lit a candle to mask the scent of her Turkish royal cigarettes. It had been a gift from Ace. He had told Charlotte he didn’t like it when his girl didn’t have what she needed. She smiled down at the cigarettes. The anxiety went away.

A knock on the door. Charlotte slid the box of camels under her blanket.
“Are you going to school today?”
“No, I’m not up to it.”
“Charlotte there are things called truancy laws–”
“I know.”
“You’ve missed so many days…”
“I haven’t missed anything important and my grades are good, what’s the
“You can’t hide from life forever.”
“You’re such a fucking pushover you let me.”
“I’m trying my best.”
The woman backed out of the room and shut the door. Charlotte blankly stared
at the ceiling. She slowly drifted off into a much needed nap. She didn’t see the pack of camels fall onto the floor of her room.
Charlotte’s mom entered the room. She quietly put the laundry basket
on the bed. There were pop bottles and energy drinks in every corner of the room. The room smelt like a vanilla candle and something else. She couldn’t quite place what it was, but it made the room feel stuffy. An object was crouched under a pile of papers with red ink all over them. She moved the papers and underneath was a memory box. She opened it cautiously. Inside there were birthday cards, concert tickets, necklaces, photos. One stack of pictures stood out. A stack of family photos which had been carefully, elaborately altered. Her face had been scratched out, cut out, or scribbled over with the same red ink all over the papers that had been covering the box.

The door creaked open.
“What are you doing in my room?”
“What have you been doing in your room…”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Only by blood.”

Charlotte’s mom looked at her daughter and then down at the
memory box.

“What is this..?”
“You should know, you gave it to me…”
“I did?”
“I don’t know why I thought you would remember.”
“Charlotte, let me fix this-”
“You don’t break something and put it back together…”
“I’m not a little girl anymore, maybe you would know that if you were actually around.”

Ace looked down at the phone in his hand, nothing. Not a single notification.
Their last conversation Charlotte had been too drunk to comprehend anything he said to her. He glanced at a picture of her smiling, bright blue eyes. She was fragile looking, he rugged and sturdy. One of their more cheerful days together. He had been hesitant to take the picture. It could be used as evidence against him. It was their only picture together.
Charlotte had practically disappeared from existence after the night she slept
over at this place. He wondered if he had done something or if she didn’t want to see him anymore. His mind was running rampant.
His phone dinged.
“Hey Ace.”
“We need to talk.”
“Are you sure you’re not just using that as an excuse to see me?” He smiled
smugly at his phone.
“No, it’s serious.”

He carefully typed his next words.
“What happened?”
“She found the cigarettes.”
“Does she know where you got them from?”
“No, I lied about it.”
“Thank god.”

Chapter 3: Touch has a memory

“I don’t like it when you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry-”
“When you’re in a relationship you don’t keep things from each other.”
“It’s rude as all hell.”

Ace got up and walked out of the room to give Charlotte some space. Charlotte
rubbed her arm. He had left a red mark on it, but it was nothing compared to the rest of her body. Her back was another story.

Music blared and was only amplified off of the walls of the bathroom. The
mirror had long since fogged over. Charlotte sat in the shower and let the scorching water wash over her. It stung, but it hurt far less than anything else had in the past few months.

There was a knock on the door, but it was ignored. Charlotte sat still in the
shower her head down with tears falling down her face.

Another knock.
“Charlotte, you’ve been in there over an hour.”
“I can’t get clean.”
“What are you talking about…”
“I keep trying..but I can’t…”
“Charlotte, open the door.”

Charlotte’s mom unlocked the door using the key to find her daughter sitting in
the shower. Her back was covered with cuts and bruises. She rushed over to her. She turned off the water and tried to reach for her daughter.

Charlotte screamed.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Charlotte, who did this to you…”
“Somebody had to have given you those…”

Charlotte got up and grabbed a towel. She stormed out of the bathroom and up
to her room. Charlotte’s mother sat on the bathroom floor. Water dripped from her hair and clothes. She didn’t move for several minutes.

“Charlotte, I don’t know who gave those to you, but I swear to god you’re not
seeing them again.”
“You don’t have any control over who I choose to hang out with.”
“Charlotte, they’re hurting you–”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“What is there to understand?”
“No, you’re miserable crying in the shower…”

Charlotte said nothing more but simply nodded her head. There was no point
in this conversation continuing.

Charlotte’s mom left the room and walked down the stairs. She didn’t hear the
ding Charlotte’s phone made or the sound of the cool night air moving into Charlotte’s room. She didn’t pay enough attention to hear the sound of Charlotte removing the window screen or the sound of Charlotte sliding out and down onto ground level.
Chapter 4: Anything and Everything in moderation

Ace and Charlotte laid in his bed and he held her close. He kissed her
forehead. A familiar scene for the both of them. There was comfort in it, but also tension. A sort of caution between the both of them.

He pulled her on top of him.
“If you learn anything from me it will be this; anything and everything in

Charlotte said nothing, but inhaled peacefully. She felt him shift underneath
her. She thought nothing of this, he was most likely uncomfortable. Then it happened, he hit her.

“What did I say?”
“Anything and everything in moderation.” She shook.
“Good girl, I’ve done a lot of things in my life, but never enough to get

He got up and started to put his clothes on for the day. She followed suit
hastily and found her clothes scattered around his room from the night before. She laced up her converse and threw a hoodie over herself. Not really bothering to present herself, it was just another day. Charlotte did not want to anger Ace any further than she already had.

Ace and Charlotte drove around looking for somewhere to eat. Ace
spotted a Perkins. It wasn’t too risky to eat there and they could pull it off.

He turned the music down.
“Ok, you’re gonna be my little sister.”
“I think I can pull it off.”
“Or we can just say you’re eighteen you look the part.”
“At most I can pull off ten,” She laughed.
“You’re gonna make me feel worse than I already do.”

They smiled at each other. He pulled into the parking lot and parked the
jeep. It was very crowded with many college students. His eyes darted back and forth. Charlotte got out of the jeep. They walked in together keeping a distance between each other.

They were escorted to a booth and sat across from each other. Charlotte looked
down at her phone. There were several messages from her mother. She quickly slid it back into the pocket of her hoodie. Several minutes later they got a to go box and were on the road. Ace had bought her a slice of French silk pie.
Charlotte sat in the passenger seat of his jeep a few blocks away from her
work. It was at least ten minutes before her shift started. She was in no rush to go to work earlier than necessary.

“You’ll forget about me when you meet someone more appropriate
someone your own age.”
“No Ace I would never–”
“Charlotte when it comes to settling down and having someone’s children even
though you say you don’t want any–”
“Age doesn’t bother me Ace.”
“It wouldn’t be till next spring when you graduate I can’t–”
“You didn’t care about that before–”
“Look sweetheart I just wanted you–”

Charlotte grabbed her things and got out of the jeep slamming the door behind
her. She walked off tears streaming down her face.

“Charlotte,” he banged his hands against the steering wheel.

She whipped around and threw the piece of pie on the ground. There was not a
doubt that this was over, it was done. At least for now.

Charlotte’s mom pushed the door of Charlotte’s room open. Her entire body
was shaking with anger, but there was only disappointment in her eyes.

She held up a bottle of Charlotte’s pills.
“Why was this in the trash?”
“I don’t need them.”
“Charlotte, you need them to stabilize you…”
“You don’t know me or anything about me.”
“I know that I expect you to make the right decisions.”
“If you say you can’t I will…”
“I won’t say I can’t it’s a matter of want.”
“It’s up to you to make decisions.”
“I know that…”
“Then you know it’s up to you to stop making all the negative ones.”
“You say that like it’s so fucking easy.”
“Because I believe you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Charlotte, life isn’t out to get you.”
“Then why do I and everybody I love settle for less?”
“I think…people are afraid to expect more for themselves.”
“You haven’t called me that…”

Charlotte’s mom wrapped Charlotte in a hug. Charlotte didn’t fight it, but
collapsed in her mother’s arms. For the first time in a few months they just sat together. There was no screaming, no storming out of the room, no pushing away. Just a warm heartfelt embrace, mother and child.

“Can I really change?”
“That’s up to you.”

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