AshAleigh
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Joined: November 16, 2011
Last Seen: 1 decade
user id: 239465
Joined: November 16, 2011
Last Seen: 1 decade
user id: 239465
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820 Favorites
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So i just came back to witty after a long break and I'm laughing at my own quotes.
Format by Sandrasaurus
AshAleigh's Favorite Quotes
forgotten.
P r o l
o g u e .
Carson's Point of View.
My name is Carson Anderson.
I have light brown hair, and yellowish-green eyes.
I'm 18 years old, with the best girlfriend.
Her name is Avery Green.
She's 17, and has light brown hair with the brightest blue eyes.
Avery is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I love her more than anything.
We've been dating for over 2 years.
The only problem? She got in a car crash 2 months ago.
Avery was out with her friends and a drunk driver crashed into them.
Her best friends, Kylie and Alyssa, escaped with a couple injuries.
Avery wasn't so lucky. She's in a coma and there's little chance of her waking up.
I sat in the hospital room, just like I had almost everyday since the accident.
Kylie, Alyssa, and Avery's family would stop in every so often.
But no one was here as much as me.
I ate here, slept here, I practically lived in this hospital.
The doctors told me I should leave, that I'd be better off at home.
But I can't leave her. Avery is my home, I'm nothing without her.
They tell me that she probably won't ever wake up, and if she does, she'll never be the same.
One time, I was even told to forget about her. To move on.
But there was no way that I could move on.
The moment that I met Avery I knew she was something special.
Something that I would never give up on.
**************************************************************************************************************************************************************
WHATS THAT? I'M BACK. New story? Yes, No? Who likes it?
Sorry that I've been gone so long!
I've just been really busy, and I hope everyones doing welll(:
FEEDBACK IS MUCH APPRECIATED :D
Favorite and Follow if you like and are going to read Forgotten.
thank you, I love you!
*I do not notify.*
Carson's Point of View.
My name is Carson Anderson.
I have light brown hair, and yellowish-green eyes.
I'm 18 years old, with the best girlfriend.
Her name is Avery Green.
She's 17, and has light brown hair with the brightest blue eyes.
Avery is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I love her more than anything.
We've been dating for over 2 years.
The only problem? She got in a car crash 2 months ago.
Avery was out with her friends and a drunk driver crashed into them.
Her best friends, Kylie and Alyssa, escaped with a couple injuries.
Avery wasn't so lucky. She's in a coma and there's little chance of her waking up.
I sat in the hospital room, just like I had almost everyday since the accident.
Kylie, Alyssa, and Avery's family would stop in every so often.
But no one was here as much as me.
I ate here, slept here, I practically lived in this hospital.
The doctors told me I should leave, that I'd be better off at home.
But I can't leave her. Avery is my home, I'm nothing without her.
They tell me that she probably won't ever wake up, and if she does, she'll never be the same.
One time, I was even told to forget about her. To move on.
But there was no way that I could move on.
The moment that I met Avery I knew she was something special.
Something that I would never give up on.
**************************************************************************************************************************************************************
WHATS THAT? I'M BACK. New story? Yes, No? Who likes it?
Sorry that I've been gone so long!
I've just been really busy, and I hope everyones doing welll(:
FEEDBACK IS MUCH APPRECIATED :D
Favorite and Follow if you like and are going to read Forgotten.
thank you, I love you!
*I do not notify.*
PLOT TWIST: JIMMY365
IS ACTUALLY A BOY PRETENDING TO BE
A GIRL PRETENDING TO
BE A BOY.
(BUT SERIOUSLY, I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT SOME OF YOU ARE ACTUALLY SHOCKED.)
BE A BOY.
(BUT SERIOUSLY, I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT SOME OF YOU ARE ACTUALLY SHOCKED.)
trouble
Chapter 38
I've called Scarlet's cell
phone at least twenty times by now and she has yet to answer.
Everytime I called, the reciever went straight to voicemail.
It has been hours after Lola broke the news by confirming Scarlet's pregnancy, and I was getting frustrated and impatient.
Scarlet and I were far from best friends right now, but I needed to know is she was okay and who the hell was the father of her baby.
"Crap, why isn't she answering?" I hissed, tossing my phone down on Travis' bed forcefully.
Travis, who was sulking lazily in his couch, wrapped his arms around my waist.
He pulled me towards him, as I laid over his body.
"Stop worrying." Travis kissed my hair. "Scarlet's a big girl. She can take care of herself."
I groaned, burying my face in his neck, breathing in his scent.
"I hope so." I sighed. "I just want to know who the father is."
I suddenly thought back to how Travis and Scarlet once slept with each other.
Then, I reminded myself that the last time they hooked up was two years ago, and there was no possible way that Travis could've been the baby's father.
I felt defeated, wondering why I was even doubting Travis.
I loved and trusted him, and I shouldn't have even second guessed him.
"Riley?" Travis' warm breath tickled my bare neck. "What are you thinking about?"
I don't know what overcame me when I asked Travis this very next question.
Maybe I've been thinking to much about this topic, or maybe I'm just merely curious.
My fists tightened, as I rolled over, staring Travis right in the eye.
"Was she good, Travis?" I whispered, hardly recognizing my jealous tone.
Travis suddenly tensed up, as he sat up, so that I was no longer on his lap.
He stared at me with wide eyes full of disbelief. "What?"
"Was Scarlet good?" I repeated. "In bed?"
Travis blinked, before scoffing. "Riley, are you really asking me this?"
I frowned, before nodding obnoxiously. "Yes!" I snapped. "Answer my question."
I knew it was a mistake asking Travis about this question in the first place, but I just couldn't contain myself.
It was as if I blurted it out suddenly out of curiousity.
"No." Travis strenly said, looking angry all the sudden. "I'm not answering your question, because quite frankly, it's a very stupid one."
I glared at him, crossing my arms. "Why won't you just admit that you liked your time in bed with Scarlet?"
Travis tightened his jaw, before standing up. "You're too worked up right now, Riley." he muttered, shaking his head. "I think you should go home."
I knew I was going to regret the second I stepped out of his house.
I knew I was going to regret not apologizing to Travis.
And when I left his house, after taking the very first step, I did.
I felt complete regret.
Everytime I called, the reciever went straight to voicemail.
It has been hours after Lola broke the news by confirming Scarlet's pregnancy, and I was getting frustrated and impatient.
Scarlet and I were far from best friends right now, but I needed to know is she was okay and who the hell was the father of her baby.
"Crap, why isn't she answering?" I hissed, tossing my phone down on Travis' bed forcefully.
Travis, who was sulking lazily in his couch, wrapped his arms around my waist.
He pulled me towards him, as I laid over his body.
"Stop worrying." Travis kissed my hair. "Scarlet's a big girl. She can take care of herself."
I groaned, burying my face in his neck, breathing in his scent.
"I hope so." I sighed. "I just want to know who the father is."
I suddenly thought back to how Travis and Scarlet once slept with each other.
Then, I reminded myself that the last time they hooked up was two years ago, and there was no possible way that Travis could've been the baby's father.
I felt defeated, wondering why I was even doubting Travis.
I loved and trusted him, and I shouldn't have even second guessed him.
"Riley?" Travis' warm breath tickled my bare neck. "What are you thinking about?"
I don't know what overcame me when I asked Travis this very next question.
Maybe I've been thinking to much about this topic, or maybe I'm just merely curious.
My fists tightened, as I rolled over, staring Travis right in the eye.
"Was she good, Travis?" I whispered, hardly recognizing my jealous tone.
Travis suddenly tensed up, as he sat up, so that I was no longer on his lap.
He stared at me with wide eyes full of disbelief. "What?"
"Was Scarlet good?" I repeated. "In bed?"
Travis blinked, before scoffing. "Riley, are you really asking me this?"
I frowned, before nodding obnoxiously. "Yes!" I snapped. "Answer my question."
I knew it was a mistake asking Travis about this question in the first place, but I just couldn't contain myself.
It was as if I blurted it out suddenly out of curiousity.
"No." Travis strenly said, looking angry all the sudden. "I'm not answering your question, because quite frankly, it's a very stupid one."
I glared at him, crossing my arms. "Why won't you just admit that you liked your time in bed with Scarlet?"
Travis tightened his jaw, before standing up. "You're too worked up right now, Riley." he muttered, shaking his head. "I think you should go home."
I knew I was going to regret the second I stepped out of his house.
I knew I was going to regret not apologizing to Travis.
And when I left his house, after taking the very first step, I did.
I felt complete regret.
Deadly
Games
~Chapter
Two~
Needless to say, I broke up with my boyfriend
shortly after. It was a shame, really. He was such a nice guy, a
complete gentlemen. He opened the door for me, called me every
night but only after I had finished my homework and only until I
needed to go to bed. He waited a month to kiss me.
He was…sweet. But that was it.
In the two hours I was with Cinnamon, we had insisted on not telling each other our real names, there was more excitement than the three months I was with my ex-boyfriend.
There was something different about him.
He was spontaneous.
And I was interested. I soon found out, so was he.
“CINNAMON!” I squealed as I ran out of my house and jumped into his arms. I nestled my face into his neck. He smelt like warmth.
“Hey Peppermint,” he mumbled, his face buried in my abundance of hair. He pulled away and took my hand in his, dragging me down the street with him.
I smiled at his hand in mine and asked, “What’s your name anyways?”
He looked back at me and laughed. “Why do you want to know so bad?”
I shrugged, unable to wipe the smile off my face. “I can’t keep calling you Cinnamon forever!”
He smiled at me. “Trey.”
“Trey,” I breathed, blown away by how beautiful it sounded when he said it.
“And you’re Della. The very beautiful girl in my friend’s Geometry class,” he pulled my hand again, pulling me out of my trance.
“Where are we going?” I asked him, my teeth chattering in the cold, snowy night.
“You’ll see,” he said as he looked back at me and smiled.
He led me onto the public bus and we sat next to each other, his arm around me, trying to warm me up. I felt so proud, to be in his arms for everyone to see. I was finally the girl with the perfect boy. Everything was finally right.
I looked over to the opposite side of the bus and watched the other people around me. A business man with slicked black hair was busy tapping his iPhone ferociously, glaring angrily at it, most likely arguing with a client.
An elderly man was lazily reading about the economic crisis happening in some third world country and he tapped his foot to the music coming from the radio station playing in the bus.
There was a young girl with bright blue eyes staring out of the bus window, mystified by the part of the city she had probably never seen before. Her mouth was slightly open as she turned to her mother to show her one of her discoveries. But her mother was busy with her baby brother, who was fussing because of the volume of the bus. The little girl gently tapped on her mother’s sleeve to get her attention but with one swift motion, the mother swatted the little girl’s arm away. The motion shook her whole body so much that she fell to the dirty floor, but she didn’t protest. She just picked herself up and looked back to the window and the world outside. Absentmindedly, she lifted one hand and laid it on the spot on her arm that was turning bluer as the minutes passed from her mother. With her small thumb, she gently rubbed the spot, acting as her own comfort source.
Her small, blue, tired eyes looked over at me in curiosity. I looked back, my heart breaking as I saw a large bruise above her left eye. Her eyes left mine and traveled to my hand interlocked with the perfect boy. She cocked her head and continued to stare with sad eyes.
I wanted to say something but as soon as I moved, her eyes snapped back to the window.
I felt as though my chest had collapsed but as I looked up into his chocolate brown eyes, I had to smile.
Sometimes, you really don’t realize just how good you have it. player.
Probably my favorite chapter so far.
It's literally ten degrees in my room.
So I'm just sitting in here with my hat, scarf, Northface, leggings, fuzzy socks and gloves. Ya know, normal Minnesota behavior.
Let me know if you want to be on the Notify List(:
~Fave;Follow;Comment~
He was…sweet. But that was it.
In the two hours I was with Cinnamon, we had insisted on not telling each other our real names, there was more excitement than the three months I was with my ex-boyfriend.
There was something different about him.
He was spontaneous.
And I was interested. I soon found out, so was he.
“CINNAMON!” I squealed as I ran out of my house and jumped into his arms. I nestled my face into his neck. He smelt like warmth.
“Hey Peppermint,” he mumbled, his face buried in my abundance of hair. He pulled away and took my hand in his, dragging me down the street with him.
I smiled at his hand in mine and asked, “What’s your name anyways?”
He looked back at me and laughed. “Why do you want to know so bad?”
I shrugged, unable to wipe the smile off my face. “I can’t keep calling you Cinnamon forever!”
He smiled at me. “Trey.”
“Trey,” I breathed, blown away by how beautiful it sounded when he said it.
“And you’re Della. The very beautiful girl in my friend’s Geometry class,” he pulled my hand again, pulling me out of my trance.
“Where are we going?” I asked him, my teeth chattering in the cold, snowy night.
“You’ll see,” he said as he looked back at me and smiled.
He led me onto the public bus and we sat next to each other, his arm around me, trying to warm me up. I felt so proud, to be in his arms for everyone to see. I was finally the girl with the perfect boy. Everything was finally right.
I looked over to the opposite side of the bus and watched the other people around me. A business man with slicked black hair was busy tapping his iPhone ferociously, glaring angrily at it, most likely arguing with a client.
An elderly man was lazily reading about the economic crisis happening in some third world country and he tapped his foot to the music coming from the radio station playing in the bus.
There was a young girl with bright blue eyes staring out of the bus window, mystified by the part of the city she had probably never seen before. Her mouth was slightly open as she turned to her mother to show her one of her discoveries. But her mother was busy with her baby brother, who was fussing because of the volume of the bus. The little girl gently tapped on her mother’s sleeve to get her attention but with one swift motion, the mother swatted the little girl’s arm away. The motion shook her whole body so much that she fell to the dirty floor, but she didn’t protest. She just picked herself up and looked back to the window and the world outside. Absentmindedly, she lifted one hand and laid it on the spot on her arm that was turning bluer as the minutes passed from her mother. With her small thumb, she gently rubbed the spot, acting as her own comfort source.
Her small, blue, tired eyes looked over at me in curiosity. I looked back, my heart breaking as I saw a large bruise above her left eye. Her eyes left mine and traveled to my hand interlocked with the perfect boy. She cocked her head and continued to stare with sad eyes.
I wanted to say something but as soon as I moved, her eyes snapped back to the window.
I felt as though my chest had collapsed but as I looked up into his chocolate brown eyes, I had to smile.
Sometimes, you really don’t realize just how good you have it. player.
Probably my favorite chapter so far.
It's literally ten degrees in my room.
So I'm just sitting in here with my hat, scarf, Northface, leggings, fuzzy socks and gloves. Ya know, normal Minnesota behavior.
Let me know if you want to be on the Notify List(:
~Fave;Follow;Comment~
Deadly
Games
~Prologue~
I can remember every detail about
him. Every frighteningly clear detail.
His hand was the definition of a frenemy.
A loving friend and a terrifying enemy.
It would be the source of my warmth, the source of the love I felt inside my chest. The happiness that would engulf me as he took my hand in his as we walked along the unmarked path of the deep forest. The quickening of my heartbeat as he brushed his fingertips along my ever-thinning cheekbone. It was also the source of my cries, the source of the pain I felt both inside and out. The wrenching of my heart as another blow struck me deep in my chest. My shrieks that reverberated through my skull as the same loving fingertips came thrashing down across the same cheekbone.
His eyes were a poem.
A happy and uplifting poem, but a deeply disturbing poem.
The eyes that could draw me in with a single look. They could pull me into a long, affectionate embrace. They could lure me into doing almost anything at any time they asked. They could tell me sweet-nothings or they could turn hard and kill every hope of happiness that existed in me.
His lips were a backstabbing acquaintance.
A kind, trusting individual that could easily turn around and become the lying, deceiving devil. They could tell me of happy-ever-afters and the future that was undoubtedly ahead of us. And in the blink of an eye, they could turn sour and speak of the harshest realities that could break even the toughest steel. The lips that would kiss away any pain that ever came to me, even the pain that they caused.
A back and forth game that existed between us.
A game that never ended.
A game where there was only one winner.
A game that I never won.
I'm really terrified to be back.
~Fave;Follow;Comment~
His hand was the definition of a frenemy.
A loving friend and a terrifying enemy.
It would be the source of my warmth, the source of the love I felt inside my chest. The happiness that would engulf me as he took my hand in his as we walked along the unmarked path of the deep forest. The quickening of my heartbeat as he brushed his fingertips along my ever-thinning cheekbone. It was also the source of my cries, the source of the pain I felt both inside and out. The wrenching of my heart as another blow struck me deep in my chest. My shrieks that reverberated through my skull as the same loving fingertips came thrashing down across the same cheekbone.
His eyes were a poem.
A happy and uplifting poem, but a deeply disturbing poem.
The eyes that could draw me in with a single look. They could pull me into a long, affectionate embrace. They could lure me into doing almost anything at any time they asked. They could tell me sweet-nothings or they could turn hard and kill every hope of happiness that existed in me.
His lips were a backstabbing acquaintance.
A kind, trusting individual that could easily turn around and become the lying, deceiving devil. They could tell me of happy-ever-afters and the future that was undoubtedly ahead of us. And in the blink of an eye, they could turn sour and speak of the harshest realities that could break even the toughest steel. The lips that would kiss away any pain that ever came to me, even the pain that they caused.
A back and forth game that existed between us.
A game that never ended.
A game where there was only one winner.
A game that I never won.
I'm really terrified to be back.
~Fave;Follow;Comment~
definitions
envy is when someone walks around
with a pocket full of "that should
have been me".
hate is what happens when you put a
shotgun to the face of understanding
and it cowers in the corner.
truth is everything you tell yourself
when you realize no one is looking.
courage is ripping your heart from
your chest and saying, "here...
hold this for me".
trust is when you jump into
someone's arms knowing they would
never let you hit the ground.
love is a tablespoon of hemlock
i've been dying to try.
faith is doing what you love for a
living and letting the bills pay
themselves.
failure is when you talk yourself
out of becoming something amazing.
trouble
Chapter 35
I stared at Travis with disbelief,
as he slapped his pack of cigarettes down onto my palm.
My lips parted, as I blinked unconsciously at the rectangular box that just fit in my hands.
Travis looked away from me, before blowing out another gust of smoke.
My heart was slowly sinking, as I felt myself holding in my breath.
Did Travis honestly not care if took a smoke or not?
After all this time I spent trying to convince Travis to cut off on the nicotine, he was actually going to let me take one myself?
My blood began to boil, as I glared at Travis.
I hastily went over to rip the cover off of the pack of cigarettes, as I shoved one in my mouth.
It hasn't even been lit yet, and I hated the taste of it already.
"Lighter." I demanded.
Travis gave me a short glance, before letting out a deep breath of air.
He reached into his pocket, taking out a solid black lighter.
My heart was racing as the lighter was held closer and closer towards me, until it reached the tip of my cigarette.
Travis hesitated, staring me dead in the eye.
I didn't look away, afraid of showing weakness.
"I'm not letting you do this." he sighed, before tossing the lighter off to the ground, sending it flying across the concrete.
With one hard tug, he pulled the cigarette from my mouth, smushing it with his foot.
"Is there something wrong with you?" he asked, his breath smelling of heavy smoke. "Why the hell in the right mind would you even consider smoking?"
I glared at him, pushing his shoulder back so that he would back away from me.
"Shut up, Travis." I hissed. "You should've let me had that one cigarette. I mean, it wouldn't kill me, would it?" I snapped, repeating the same words he used towards me weeks ago.
Travis stared at me, long and hard.
I saw his green orbs soften for just a short second, before they snapped back to being harsh and cold.
"Riley, I care about you, that's all." he said lowly, sending shivers down my spine.
I closed my eyes, pushing myself off the bench.
I stared at him one last time with teary eyes, before shaking my head with a weak smile.
"No, Travis." I whispered in a croaky tone. "You don't get to care about me."
Before I got to see the reaction that Travis had, I turned my back on him.
As my arms trembled by my sides, I walked away from him.
One, two, three, four, fiv-
A strong force pulled me backwards, as I felt my lips being pressed against Travis'.
I didn't have to open my eyes to see who it was; I could tell by the smokey mint scent that Travis always had on him.
His soft and warm lips morphed against mine, as he kissed me with need.
I didn't know what to do but to kiss him back and wrap my arms around him, as he pulled my closer to his chest.
My lips parted, as I blinked unconsciously at the rectangular box that just fit in my hands.
Travis looked away from me, before blowing out another gust of smoke.
My heart was slowly sinking, as I felt myself holding in my breath.
Did Travis honestly not care if took a smoke or not?
After all this time I spent trying to convince Travis to cut off on the nicotine, he was actually going to let me take one myself?
My blood began to boil, as I glared at Travis.
I hastily went over to rip the cover off of the pack of cigarettes, as I shoved one in my mouth.
It hasn't even been lit yet, and I hated the taste of it already.
"Lighter." I demanded.
Travis gave me a short glance, before letting out a deep breath of air.
He reached into his pocket, taking out a solid black lighter.
My heart was racing as the lighter was held closer and closer towards me, until it reached the tip of my cigarette.
Travis hesitated, staring me dead in the eye.
I didn't look away, afraid of showing weakness.
"I'm not letting you do this." he sighed, before tossing the lighter off to the ground, sending it flying across the concrete.
With one hard tug, he pulled the cigarette from my mouth, smushing it with his foot.
"Is there something wrong with you?" he asked, his breath smelling of heavy smoke. "Why the hell in the right mind would you even consider smoking?"
I glared at him, pushing his shoulder back so that he would back away from me.
"Shut up, Travis." I hissed. "You should've let me had that one cigarette. I mean, it wouldn't kill me, would it?" I snapped, repeating the same words he used towards me weeks ago.
Travis stared at me, long and hard.
I saw his green orbs soften for just a short second, before they snapped back to being harsh and cold.
"Riley, I care about you, that's all." he said lowly, sending shivers down my spine.
I closed my eyes, pushing myself off the bench.
I stared at him one last time with teary eyes, before shaking my head with a weak smile.
"No, Travis." I whispered in a croaky tone. "You don't get to care about me."
Before I got to see the reaction that Travis had, I turned my back on him.
As my arms trembled by my sides, I walked away from him.
One, two, three, four, fiv-
A strong force pulled me backwards, as I felt my lips being pressed against Travis'.
I didn't have to open my eyes to see who it was; I could tell by the smokey mint scent that Travis always had on him.
His soft and warm lips morphed against mine, as he kissed me with need.
I didn't know what to do but to kiss him back and wrap my arms around him, as he pulled my closer to his chest.
Does anyone else....
- wet toothbrush
- put toothpaste on it
- wets toothbrush again
just me?
- wet toothbrush
- put toothpaste on it
- wets toothbrush again
just me?
