derevkointraining
Cadet
Title: Save Me From the Nothing I've Become (inspired by the Evanessence song, Bring Me To Life)
Author: Derevkointraining
Disclaimer: i don’t own anything besides my creative thoughts. Some characters have been borrowed from JJ Abrams. This idea just randomly came to me and has nothing to do with a CIA plot. This is pure, pure fiction except for the use of characters and their mannerisms.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A/U. Sydney is a young troubled teen struggling with the person she has become and the lack of parental guidance in her life. Michael, who is about three years older, comes into her life and tries to save her. Will he succeed?
Let me know if you like this fiction and if you want me to continue it. This is a work in progress.
Chapter 1:
I watched the embers from my cigarette dance and swirl in the cold January air before settling on the fresh snow that had fallen just this afternoon.
“Man it’s cold,” I thought, shivering against a stone wall, waiting for Max to show up with our new stash of pot. “Where the hell is he?”
“Hey! Aren’t you a little young to be smoking?”
I turned my head so I could give my “death eyes” to the preaching male voice that disrupted my thoughts. But what I saw stopped me from giving my usual snobby answer with angry looking face. There standing before me was an incredibly hot guy, probably in his late teen’s, staring at me with concern in his gorgeous green eyes.
“Probably. But, how do you know how old I am?” I answered in my best flirtatious voice, standing up to my full height and flashing my winner smile. I knew I was beautiful. People have told me this since I was born. It was destined, with two good looking parents donating their genes to me. I am only 13 years old now, but I look older, especially with how I dress and the makeup I cake on my face. At 5’9”, I have long shiny brown hair, deep brown eyes, perfect milky white skin and a 34 B chest. Hey, I AM only 13. They’ll grow.
“Well, by the looks of it, you’re a young teenager, dressing to look older. Am I right?”
Should I tell him the truth or try to flirt more and maybe score a date or at least get a little “play” from him? “What’s it to you anyway? Just leave me alone,” I blurted out and turned away again, taking another long drag on my cigarette.
“See, now that is a typical teenage answer. Are you a run-away?”
I turned to look at him, horrified. “NO! I have a very nice home. I’m just uh, waiting for my friend.”
“Waiting for your friend at 10 p.m. on a school night, in the freezing cold weather? Do your parents know where you are?”
Ha, ha. If only he knew. Right about now my parents were probably both three sheets to the wind, partying it up with my father’s employees. “Of course they do…”I started to say but just as I began to answer him, Max showed up, reeking of marijuana.
“Yo, Syd. The stuff’s here…” Max began to say. “Who’s this guy?”
“No one. Look…I can’t uh, talk, right now. Can I catch you later?”
Max shot me an incredibly dirty look. “Whatever. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
I watched Max walk off, while the hot young man took in the whole scene.
“Listen, I gotta jet.” I started to walk off from the mysterious stranger and then I felt a hand on my arm.
“Wait. Listen.. my name is Mike.”
Mike. Oh. Of course. He’s named for St. Michael the Archangel or something. No wonder he butted into my business, the damn do-gooder.
“I volunteer at a teenage help center down at the Y for kids who want somewhere to hang out after school, or if they need someone to vent to. Why don’t you come by one day and we can talk. You look like you need some ‘elderly’ advice.” Mike chuckled at his weak attempt at humor.
“I most certainly do not need HELP.”
“Oh yeah? I bet you are no older than 13 or 14 years old. You’re little friend there looks like he is in high school, and it is no secret you two smoke up. Don’t ruin your life like that. You could become something so great.” With that, Mike dropped my arm and stormed away, leaving me shivering in the cold, lonely January night.
Little did he know that I wasn’t shivering from the cold…I was shaking because he was right. I was 13 years old and I did drugs, I smoked and I drank like a fish. My parents cared more about their social life than me, and I wasn’t even a virgin anymore. In fact, I’d been having sex for more than a year now.
It’s not like I grew up in the ghetto either. I live in a huge house in residential D.C., my parents have more money than they know what to do with, and I go to a private school.
So how did I end up like this?
Please let me know if I should continue or not. Thank you!
Author: Derevkointraining
Disclaimer: i don’t own anything besides my creative thoughts. Some characters have been borrowed from JJ Abrams. This idea just randomly came to me and has nothing to do with a CIA plot. This is pure, pure fiction except for the use of characters and their mannerisms.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A/U. Sydney is a young troubled teen struggling with the person she has become and the lack of parental guidance in her life. Michael, who is about three years older, comes into her life and tries to save her. Will he succeed?
Let me know if you like this fiction and if you want me to continue it. This is a work in progress.
Chapter 1:
I watched the embers from my cigarette dance and swirl in the cold January air before settling on the fresh snow that had fallen just this afternoon.
“Man it’s cold,” I thought, shivering against a stone wall, waiting for Max to show up with our new stash of pot. “Where the hell is he?”
“Hey! Aren’t you a little young to be smoking?”
I turned my head so I could give my “death eyes” to the preaching male voice that disrupted my thoughts. But what I saw stopped me from giving my usual snobby answer with angry looking face. There standing before me was an incredibly hot guy, probably in his late teen’s, staring at me with concern in his gorgeous green eyes.
“Probably. But, how do you know how old I am?” I answered in my best flirtatious voice, standing up to my full height and flashing my winner smile. I knew I was beautiful. People have told me this since I was born. It was destined, with two good looking parents donating their genes to me. I am only 13 years old now, but I look older, especially with how I dress and the makeup I cake on my face. At 5’9”, I have long shiny brown hair, deep brown eyes, perfect milky white skin and a 34 B chest. Hey, I AM only 13. They’ll grow.
“Well, by the looks of it, you’re a young teenager, dressing to look older. Am I right?”
Should I tell him the truth or try to flirt more and maybe score a date or at least get a little “play” from him? “What’s it to you anyway? Just leave me alone,” I blurted out and turned away again, taking another long drag on my cigarette.
“See, now that is a typical teenage answer. Are you a run-away?”
I turned to look at him, horrified. “NO! I have a very nice home. I’m just uh, waiting for my friend.”
“Waiting for your friend at 10 p.m. on a school night, in the freezing cold weather? Do your parents know where you are?”
Ha, ha. If only he knew. Right about now my parents were probably both three sheets to the wind, partying it up with my father’s employees. “Of course they do…”I started to say but just as I began to answer him, Max showed up, reeking of marijuana.
“Yo, Syd. The stuff’s here…” Max began to say. “Who’s this guy?”
“No one. Look…I can’t uh, talk, right now. Can I catch you later?”
Max shot me an incredibly dirty look. “Whatever. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
I watched Max walk off, while the hot young man took in the whole scene.
“Listen, I gotta jet.” I started to walk off from the mysterious stranger and then I felt a hand on my arm.
“Wait. Listen.. my name is Mike.”
Mike. Oh. Of course. He’s named for St. Michael the Archangel or something. No wonder he butted into my business, the damn do-gooder.
“I volunteer at a teenage help center down at the Y for kids who want somewhere to hang out after school, or if they need someone to vent to. Why don’t you come by one day and we can talk. You look like you need some ‘elderly’ advice.” Mike chuckled at his weak attempt at humor.
“I most certainly do not need HELP.”
“Oh yeah? I bet you are no older than 13 or 14 years old. You’re little friend there looks like he is in high school, and it is no secret you two smoke up. Don’t ruin your life like that. You could become something so great.” With that, Mike dropped my arm and stormed away, leaving me shivering in the cold, lonely January night.
Little did he know that I wasn’t shivering from the cold…I was shaking because he was right. I was 13 years old and I did drugs, I smoked and I drank like a fish. My parents cared more about their social life than me, and I wasn’t even a virgin anymore. In fact, I’d been having sex for more than a year now.
It’s not like I grew up in the ghetto either. I live in a huge house in residential D.C., my parents have more money than they know what to do with, and I go to a private school.
So how did I end up like this?
Please let me know if I should continue or not. Thank you!
