Porcelain Hearts

Harley Black:What am I meant for?That's a common question for Harley.She's an angry "little girl",according to her teachers who have given her referrals and detentions at least twenty times.Yet she still can't help but agree with the people who make her life a living hell.But she knows something they don't.



Charlie Raven:Charlie has always been the odd one,he's always been left out,he's been labeled the "weird" boy for all of his life... until freshman year.When he fails 9th grade,he thinks his life is going to be the exact same.The poser,the snitch,all of the horrible names that had been repeated to him time and time again.Instead,the exact opposite happened.Apparently he isn't a "wannabe" like everyone said he was.All of the sudden,he's the most popular guy in freshman year.He has everything he asked for.But suddenly there is one girl who is everything his old self could've wanted.She's... different.The only catch is that she's the only thing he can't have.

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4. Lovely Death.

                                                         ...HARLEY...

 I'm standing there. Is it a dream? No, it feels too real. I can actually feel my limbs, and I can move freely. This isn't a dream, but what is it?

  I turn my attention to a young girl, sitting in a classroom, a very loud one, but she isn't talking like everyone else. She isn't running around, she's just sitting there, writing in a journal, maybe writing a story. What is she doing? She doesn't look like an outcast. I can tell she isn't very pretty, she's probably average looking. Perhaps you could call it comforting beauty.

  She pays no attention to her noisy peers. She just sits there, with her hair covering her face, writing. What is she writing? A journal entry? A story? I don't know why I'm paying attention to this boring child while I could just as easily be watching one of the more humorous, popular kids. She's the quiet one, I guess.

 I look to her left, and I see I am not the only one watching her. A dorky looking boy with ugly glasses is watching her too, just more intently. She doesn't notice him anymore than she notices me, a ghost, a shadow. She looks up at the boy. She blushes for a quick moment, and then looks down again, with her dark, long hair covering her face.

 It's sad. Yet it's extremely familiar. I can't quite pinpoint how though. The boy keeps staring at her, not going to give up yet. She's lucky. No one would give me the time of day, or ever will. 

 I realize I've been standing in the same place, for however long, watching the girl. I walk closer, but not too close, I'm afraid I might disturb her somehow. From a closer perspective, I can see that her hair isn't dark at all. You could barely call it brown.  It was really quite beautiful. It was milky brown, at the closest color, yet every strand had a certain bronze to it. Her skin, from a distance, was pale enough to pass for a ghost. Now, it was only a few shades tanner. I smiled. She reminded me of myself when I was in middle school, except it was horrifying to look at me. 

 She gets up, and I finally see her face. She walks a bit awkwardly, and stares at her feet when she gets up. She stops looking at her feet for a moment, and I see her face. I feel shivers go down my body when I recognize her. I know who this is. I know what happens. 

  It's me.

 I look around, wanting this to be a dream. Wanting to not see this again. To not relive it, even at a different perspective. I need to get out. The worst moments of my life. Hate. Insults. Threats. I cover my eyes and crumple to my feet. I can't handle this. Not again.

 I can feel the world turn into darkness around me. I can feel the negative emotions fade, until I can only feel two emotions, hope... and love. I open my eyes, and I realize nothing has changed in the room, except for one major thing. There's only the boy with the glasses and my past self in the room. I can't help but ask myself, who is he?

 Who is he to make my past self feel... safe? Who is he now? These questions are all so worthless. I'll never know who he is. Who he was, I should say.

 What am I saying? He probably isn't even real. My imagination. My insane, maddening imagination. No one, that's who he is.

 I close my eyes, trying to make this fade, trying to stop the dream before it gets too far.

 But I can't.

 I start to panic, where is this going? What am I doing? What is this supposed to reveal? I know this marks my past, but... my future? I feel my wolf senses perk up, as if someone else has entered the "dream".

" Hello, love! How is your little 'life changing' dream going so far?" a unfamiliar English accent says sarcastically. A tall, tan woman with barely any clothing on says, and comes out of the  shadows. 

 I'm not exactly friendly to strangers, and I'm not taking dreams as an exception. "I don't know what you mean." I say, being slightly aggressive.

 "Goodness, child, haven't you a lick of sense?" she says and clicks her tongue,"if you can't see the resemblances, you're just as blind as that worthless wolf father of yours."

 I feel a sting of protectiveness," Who are you to insult the Alpha of the largest pack of wolves in the world?"

 She just shrugs and says,"The truth, young one. Now, are we going to get on with the dream, or aren't we?"

 I sigh, because I  know I need to know what happens here, and it is now apparent that I need her to do that. "Yes, I suppose so."

 She laughs for a second, and realizes I'm serious."Child, are you sure you can handle this?"

I scoff, "I am extremely sure I can handle the past."

She smiles again."Don't be too sure." and she wipes her hand over my past self and everything... goes dark.

 I can't see anything. I'm stuck, I can't move! Damn it! Why did I trust her! 

"Oh dear," a worried voice calls out, "this is..." she trails off, "your future." 

 I can't move. I'm paralyzed. I'm not sure whether I'm paralyzed with fear, or if something else is holding me back. What does she mean? Is this my future? Complete darkness? It can't be... 

 I jerk upward. My hands immediately go up to my head, to see if there was anything wrong with it. Nothing. I didn't even have a headache.

 My emtions go from confused to panicked. Who was this woman? What exactly did I see? What was that? I am now sitting on the side of my bed. I want to scream. This didn't reveal anything to me. I don't think this was a dream. Not an ordinary one, not at all.

  It only has one obvious conclusion: a storm is brewing.

  

 

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