legendx3

Status: Please read my stories <heart3
Joined: June 29, 2012
Last Seen: 6 years
user id: 313081
Location: America
Gender: F

I take pictures.
I have a kissing pact. 
I dance because it's fun, not to look hot or because I have to.
I wear glasses.
I laugh at my own jokes.
I read lots of books.
Last but not least, I write for the intrinsic pleasure of writing, not because I have to or because it'll make me look awesome (even though it does).

Quotes by legendx3





They're Just Words
HI LOVLIES. Do you want me to notify you when I put up a new chapter on Wattpad? Slash, do you want me to notify you in a quote or on your profile?



 
5 3 legendx3 legendx3
hi
 



          
     Him:
     If I had an endless amount of money, the first thing I'd do is fly you out to California, take you to the beach, and read Harry Potter. Because it's about time you read that series. Then, we'd get on a plane to Ireland and watch all the movies. And then I'd buy a domestic bear.
 
       



 
      

              
          
               

         

 
          
 
13 0 legendx3 legendx3
cute




They're Just Words
TO MY BEAUTIFUL READERS

I'm so sorry for the long way. I just put the first chapter of this story up on Wattpad and will continue it on that website. My username is going_on_seventeen. I hope you don't hate me because I LOVE you guys <3 Thanks so much for all your support. I've been having a hard time lately and it means a lot to me.



 
8 2 legendx3 legendx3
love




They're Just Words
Yayyy Witty's working again! All you have to do is press "click on this quote" on my profile to see my stories. Sorry it took so long. Love you guys <3



 
7 1 legendx3 legendx3
story




They're Just Words
Seven

The next time I saw Max was after my three-hour shift at Starbucks on Friday.
He’d come at exactly five o’clock, and I knew why.
He knew I’d be done with work, which meant he needed to tell me something important.
I immediately threw off my apron and ran over to him, hugging him as tight as I could.
“Max!” I breathed into his shirt. “I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you okay? How’s Clare?”
His eyes were pained and bloodshot.
He bit his lip and looked down at me.
“That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” he said gravely, pointing to the sofa to my right. “Let’s sit. Did you get your coffee yet?”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my half-empty cup in his face.
He didn’t laugh, just sat slumped down onto the cushioned sofa and looked over at me sadly.
“We found out who the father of my sister’s baby was,” he said, swallowing nervously.
“Who?” I pressed, putting my hand on his knee.
He flinched and moved my hand off of his leg, making my brow crease in confusion.
Why was he acting so strange around me all of a sudden?
“It was your brother,” he choked. “And I think it would be best if we stopped hanging out. It’ll just make things more complicated than they already are.”
***
“You stupid, stupid pig!” I cried, shoving my brother’s drunken body against the wall on Friday night.
He pursed his swollen lips in pain and huffed a breath of air.
His brown hair was messy, sticking up in all the wrong places.
His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a least five bruises.
I’d decided to stay home instead of going out with him to give myself time to contemplate everything that had happened within these past few weeks.
“Cara,” he slurred, “Cara. Stop it.”
“How could you get my best friend’s sister pregnant?” I yelled at him.
“Cara, I had so much fun tonight,” he said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. “I danced so much that my feet started to hurt.”
My jaw clenched angrily as I pushed him against the living room wall again.
“You stupid…you stupid idiot!”  I screamed, tears miserably running down my face at three in the morning. “How could you be so careless?”
“What is going on here?” I suddenly heard a raspy voice say from behind me.
“Nothing,” I muttered, trying to walk by my mother and towards my room, but her hand stopped me.
“What happened?” she demanded, searching my eyes. “Why are you crying?”
“Ask Drake when he’s sober,” I sneered, pushing her away from me and running into my room.
I locked my door and threw myself on my bed, crying into my arms to muffle the sound a little bit.
My family couldn’t afford a baby.
Drake didn’t even have a proper job!
Sure, he graduated high school, but just barely.
He didn’t even have an impressive resume or any real experience with work.
How was he going to be able to raise a child?
What if Max never spoke to me again?
This was possibly the worst thing that had happened to my family in a very long time, and my family goes through a lot of bad stuff.
My cries soon turned into gasps; I hadn’t realized how much I missed that feeling, of not being able to breathe after crying for so long.
End it, a little voice whispered in my head. Break the skin.
I flung myself to a sitting position and reached for the scissors in my nightstand drawer, opening them to an angle that would cut perfectly through my skin.
I locked my door and got my “First Aid Kit” box out from underneath my bed in preparation; it was like a procedure, the whole thing.
I pressed the sharp blade to my wrist and cut, deep enough that it hurt, but shallow enough that the bleeding would eventually stop if the wound was taken care of properly.
My mouth opened slightly, gasping as blood trickled around my arm, running in circles across the circumference of my wrist.
I tear dripped off my chin, even though I’d stopped crying at that point.
I immediately reached for the gauze in the little white box below me and carefully wrapped it around my arm.
After taking a few deep breaths, I was able to put the box back under my bed and clean off my scissors so I could use them next time I felt like cutting.
I knew it was stupid.
I knew cutting was a sign of weakness, but that’s why I kept it a secret.
People needed to know I could take care of myself, and trust me, if they knew I cut my wrists, they would automatically assume I wasn’t stable enough to look out for myself or my family.
I lay in bed, looking up at the electro band posters on my ceiling for what seemed like hours.
I didn’t even recognize the names of some of the bands I had posted on the walls in my bedroom, so I stood up on my bed and started ripping them all off, crumpling them into little balls and attempting to throw them into the trashcan beside my desk.
No more pretending to be someone I’m not.
No more being anybody but myself.



 
2 0 legendx3 legendx3
story




They're Just Words
Seven

The next time I saw Max was after my three-hour shift at Starbucks on Friday.
He’d come at exactly five o’clock, and I knew why.
He knew I’d be done with work, which meant he needed to tell me something important.
I immediately threw off my apron and ran over to him, hugging him as tight as I could.
“Max!” I breathed into his shirt. “I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you okay? How’s Clare?”
His eyes were pained and bloodshot.
He bit his lip and looked down at me.
“That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” he said gravely, pointing to the sofa to my right. “Let’s sit. Did you get your coffee yet?”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my half-empty cup in his face.
He didn’t laugh, just sat slumped down onto the cushioned sofa and looked over at me sadly.
“We found out who the father of my sister’s baby was,” he said, swallowing nervously.
“Who?” I pressed, putting my hand on his knee.
He flinched and moved my hand off of his leg, making my brow crease in confusion.
Why was he acting so strange around me all of a sudden?
“It was your brother,” he choked. “And I think it would be best if we stopped hanging out. It’ll just make things more complicated than they already are.”
***
“You stupid, stupid pig!” I cried, shoving my brother’s drunken body against the wall on Friday night.
He pursed his swollen lips in pain and huffed a breath of air.
His brown hair was messy, sticking up in all the wrong places.
His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a least five bruises.
I’d decided to stay home instead of going out with him to give myself time to contemplate everything that had happened within these past few weeks.
“Cara,” he slurred, “Cara. Stop it.”
“How could you get my best friend’s sister pregnant?” I yelled at him.
“Cara, I had so much fun tonight,” he said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. “I danced so much that my feet started to hurt.”
My jaw clenched angrily as I pushed him against the living room wall again.
“You stupid…you stupid idiot!”  I screamed, tears miserably running down my face at three in the morning. “How could you be so careless?”
“What is going on here?” I suddenly heard a raspy voice say from behind me.
“Nothing,” I muttered, trying to walk by my mother and towards my room, but her hand stopped me.
“What happened?” she demanded, searching my eyes. “Why are you crying?”
“Ask Drake when he’s sober,” I sneered, pushing her away from me and running into my room.
I locked my door and threw myself on my bed, crying into my arms to muffle the sound a little bit.
My family couldn’t afford a baby.
Drake didn’t even have a proper job!
Sure, he graduated high school, but just barely.
He didn’t even have an impressive resume or any real experience with work.
How was he going to be able to raise a child?
What if Max never spoke to me again?
This was possibly the worst thing that had happened to my family in a very long time, and my family goes through a lot of bad stuff.
My cries soon turned into gasps; I hadn’t realized how much I missed that feeling, of not being able to breathe after crying for so long.
End it, a little voice whispered in my head. Break the skin.
I flung myself to a sitting position and reached for the scissors in my nightstand drawer, opening them to an angle that would cut perfectly through my skin.
I locked my door and got my “First Aid Kit” box out from underneath my bed in preparation; it was like a procedure, the whole thing.
I pressed the sharp blade to my wrist and cut, deep enough that it hurt, but shallow enough that the bleeding would eventually stop if the wound was taken care of properly.
My mouth opened slightly, gasping as blood trickled around my arm, running in circles across the circumference of my wrist.
I tear dripped off my chin, even though I’d stopped crying at that point.
I immediately reached for the gauze in the little white box below me and carefully wrapped it around my arm.
After taking a few deep breaths, I was able to put the box back under my bed and clean off my scissors so I could use them next time I felt like cutting.
I knew it was stupid.
I knew cutting was a sign of weakness, but that’s why I kept it a secret.
People needed to know I could take care of myself, and trust me, if they knew I cut my wrists, they would automatically assume I wasn’t stable enough to look out for myself or my family.
I lay in bed, looking up at the electro band posters on my ceiling for what seemed like hours.
I didn’t even recognize the names of some of the bands I had posted on the walls in my bedroom, so I stood up on my bed and started ripping them all off, crumpling them into little balls and attempting to throw them into the trashcan beside my desk.
No more pretending to be someone I’m not.
No more being anybody but myself.



 
3 4 legendx3 legendx3
story




They're Just Words
Note to my readers

Chapter 7 won't upload, guys. I'm sorry. I haven't a clue why because there was nothing inappropriate about it and there were absolutely no swears, so I don't know why Witty won't allow me to post it. Sorry again :'( Keep clam & wait until tomorrow? I love you guys!


 
13 4 legendx3 legendx3
story




They're Just Words
Seven

The next time I saw Max was after my three-hour shift at Starbucks on Friday.
He’d come at exactly five o’clock, and I knew why.
He knew I’d be done with work, which meant he needed to tell me something important.
I immediately threw off my apron and ran over to him, hugging him as tight as I could.
“Max!” I breathed into his shirt. “I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you okay? How’s Clare?”
His eyes were pained and bloodshot.
He bit his lip and looked down at me.
“That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” he said gravely, pointing to the sofa to my right. “Let’s sit. Did you get your coffee yet?”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my half-empty cup in his face.
He didn’t laugh, just sat slumped down onto the cushioned sofa and looked over at me sadly.
“We found out who the father of my sister’s baby was,” he said, swallowing nervously.
“Who?” I pressed, putting my hand on his knee.
He flinched and moved my hand off of his leg, making my brow crease in confusion.
Why was he acting so strange around me all of a sudden?
“It was your brother,” he choked. “And I think it would be best if we stopped hanging out. It’ll just make things more complicated than they already are.”
***
“You stupid, stupid pig!” I cried, shoving my brother’s drunken body against the wall on Friday night.
He pursed his swollen lips in pain and huffed a breath of air.
His brown hair was messy, sticking up in all the wrong places.
His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a least five bruises.
I’d decided to stay home instead of going out with him to give myself time to contemplate everything that had happened within these past few weeks.
“Cara,” he slurred, “Cara. Stop it.”
“How could you get my best friend’s sister pregnant?” I yelled at him.
“Cara, I had so much fun tonight,” he said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. “I danced so much that my feet started to hurt.”
My jaw clenched angrily as I pushed him against the living room wall again.
“You stupid…you stupid idiot!”  I screamed, tears miserably running down my face at three in the morning. “How could you be so careless?”
“What is going on here?” I suddenly heard a raspy voice say from behind me.
“Nothing,” I muttered, trying to walk by my mother and towards my room, but her hand stopped me.
“What happened?” she demanded, searching my eyes. “Why are you crying?”
“Ask Drake when he’s sober,” I sneered, pushing her away from me and running into my room.
I locked my door and threw myself on my bed, crying into my arms to muffle the sound a little bit.
My family couldn’t afford a baby.
Drake didn’t even have a proper job!
Sure, he graduated high school, but just barely.
He didn’t even have an impressive resume or any real experience with work.
How was he going to be able to raise a child?
What if Max never spoke to me again?
This was possibly the worst thing that had happened to my family in a very long time, and my family goes through a lot of bad stuff.
My cries soon turned into gasps; I hadn’t realized how much I missed that feeling, of not being able to breathe after crying for so long.
End it, a little voice whispered in my head. Break the skin.
I flung myself to a sitting position and reached for the scissors in my nightstand drawer, opening them to an angle that would cut perfectly through my skin.
I locked my door and got my “First Aid Kit” box out from underneath my bed in preparation; it was like a procedure, the whole thing.
I pressed the sharp blade to my wrist and cut, deep enough that it hurt, but shallow enough that the bleeding would eventually stop if the wound was taken care of properly.
My mouth opened slightly, gasping as blood trickled around my arm, running in circles across the circumference of my wrist.
I tear dripped off my chin, even though I’d stopped crying at that point.
I immediately reached for the gauze in the little white box below me and carefully wrapped it around my arm.
After taking a few deep breaths, I was able to put the box back under my bed and clean off my scissors so I could use them next time I felt like cutting.
I knew it was stupid.
I knew cutting was a sign of weakness, but that’s why I kept it a secret.
People needed to know I could take care of myself, and trust me, if they knew I cut my wrists, they would automatically assume I wasn’t stable enough to look out for myself or my family.
I lay in bed, looking up at the electro band posters on my ceiling for what seemed like hours.
I didn’t even recognize the names of some of the bands I had posted on the walls in my bedroom, so I stood up on my bed and started ripping them all off, crumpling them into little balls and attempting to throw them into the trashcan beside my desk.
No more pretending to be someone I’m not.
No more being anybody but myself.



 
2 0 legendx3 legendx3
story




They're Just Words
Seven

The next time I saw Max was after my three-hour shift at Starbucks on Friday.
He’d come at exactly five o’clock, and I knew why.
He knew I’d be done with work, which meant he needed to tell me something important.
I immediately threw off my apron and ran over to him, hugging him as tight as I could.
“Max!” I breathed into his shirt. “I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you okay? How’s Clare?”
His eyes were pained and bloodshot.
He bit his lip and looked down at me.
“That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” he said gravely, pointing to the sofa to my right. “Let’s sit. Did you get your coffee yet?”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my half-empty cup in his face.
He didn’t laugh, just sat slumped down onto the cushioned sofa and looked over at me sadly.
“We found out who the father of my sister’s baby was,” he said, swallowing nervously.
“Who?” I pressed, putting my hand on his knee.
He flinched and moved my hand off of his leg, making my brow crease in confusion.
Why was he acting so strange around me all of a sudden?
“It was your brother,” he choked. “And I think it would be best if we stopped hanging out. It’ll just make things more complicated than they already are.”
***
“You stupid, stupid pig!” I cried, shoving my brother’s drunken body against the wall on Friday night.
He pursed his swollen lips in pain and huffed a breath of air.
His brown hair was messy, sticking up in all the wrong places.
His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a least five bruises.
I’d decided to stay home instead of going out with him to give myself time to contemplate everything that had happened within these past few weeks.
“Cara,” he slurred, “Cara. Stop it.”
“How could you get my best friend’s sister pregnant?” I yelled at him.
“Cara, I had so much fun tonight,” he said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. “I danced so much that my feet started to hurt.”
My jaw clenched angrily as I pushed him against the living room wall again.
“You stupid…you stupid idiot!”  I screamed, tears miserably running down my face at three in the morning. “How could you be so careless?”
“What is going on here?” I suddenly heard a raspy voice say from behind me.
“Nothing,” I muttered, trying to walk by my mother and towards my room, but her hand stopped me.
“What happened?” she demanded, searching my eyes. “Why are you crying?”
“Ask Drake when he’s sober,” I sneered, pushing her away from me and running into my room.
I locked my door and threw myself on my bed, crying into my arms to muffle the sound a little bit.
My family couldn’t afford a baby.
Drake didn’t even have a proper job!
Sure, he graduated high school, but just barely.
He didn’t even have an impressive resume or any real experience with work.
How was he going to be able to raise a child?
What if Max never spoke to me again?
This was possibly the worst thing that had happened to my family in a very long time, and my family goes through a lot of bad stuff.
My cries soon turned into gasps; I hadn’t realized how much I missed that feeling, of not being able to breathe after crying for so long.
End it, a little voice whispered in my head. Break the skin.
I flung myself to a sitting position and reached for the scissors in my nightstand drawer, opening them to an angle that would cut perfectly through my skin.
I locked my door and got my “First Aid Kit” box out from underneath my bed in preparation; it was like a procedure, the whole thing.
I pressed the sharp blade to my wrist and cut, deep enough that it hurt, but shallow enough that the bleeding would eventually stop if the wound was taken care of properly.
My mouth opened slightly, gasping as blood trickled around my arm, running in circles across the circumference of my wrist.
I tear dripped off my chin, even though I’d stopped crying at that point.
I immediately reached for the gauze in the little white box below me and carefully wrapped it around my arm.
After taking a few deep breaths, I was able to put the box back under my bed and clean off my scissors so I could use them next time I felt like cutting.
I knew it was stupid.
I knew cutting was a sign of weakness, but that’s why I kept it a secret.
People needed to know I could take care of myself, and trust me, if they knew I cut my wrists, they would automatically assume I wasn’t stable enough to look out for myself or my family.
I lay in bed, looking up at the electro band posters on my ceiling for what seemed like hours.
I didn’t even recognize the names of some of the bands I had posted on the walls in my bedroom, so I stood up on my bed and started ripping them all off, crumpling them into little balls and attempting to throw them into the trashcan beside my desk.
No more pretending to be someone I’m not.
No more being anybody but myself.



 
5 0 legendx3 legendx3
story




They're Just Words
Note to my readers

Chapters 3 and 6 were blocker from Witty. So here's a summary of both incase you didn't get to them:

Three
Basically all that happened is this: Cara was working at Starbucks when Lucas bumped into her and asked her to meet up at their spot later that night. Then, she went to go help out her best friend Max at his dad's record shop and found out his sister got pregnant and nobody knows who the father is.

Six
Max won't answer any of Cara's phone calls throughout the day, which is very unusual. She goes to school, gets made fun of (nothing out of the ordinary), goes to work, eats dinner at home, and then finishes here homework. She has nothing else to do and nobody else to see except Lucas, so she heads down to the shore as early as nine o'clock and waits five hours until Lucas arrives. Lucas is shocked to see that Cara has been there for so long and asks her if she's okay; Cara says she has to be okay for the sake of her family and Max. Then, Lucas asks her if she's going to cry. Cara immediately says no, but when Lucas asks her if he can make her cry, Cara bursts into tears for the first time since she was fifteen and Lucas comforts her. She's drawn to Lucas for that exact reason.



 
18 0 legendx3 legendx3
story