The Devil's Daughter

I have always hated the rain. Especially when it bears a violent storm as a companion.But here I am nonetheless, under the violent downpour, right in front of an eyesore of a motel where I just slept with my class teacher. And I am without a doubt not proud of my actions. Because I have a boyfriend. And I am supposed to be faithful to him. But life always got a way of pushing me to the edge of a cliff with barely half a choice.Lucas Meadow, my Philosophy teacher, has always had his greedy eyes on younger girls, like the pretty girls in his class. I always knew I was no exception after all the countless sexual passes at me. But I have been so sure I would never let his finger touch me, well until he gave me an offer I couldn't turn my golden eyes away from.He offered me something palatable; to help me graduate even with my poor grades. And I always knew on my own, I wouldn't make it past the threshold of Northridge High with my mates in the next few months. I was going to have to rep

My ass glued to a seat at Franco's café, a half-empty styrofoam cup before me, I grow a constant need to peek at my phone's screen as acrylic nails drum steadily on the polished table. And it is safe to say that I look like a teenage girl anxiously awaiting a reply from her crush.Such a nervous wreck it feels like my heart has shifted from its position just to come and engage in an endless tango in my throat. Who knows waiting for an email from an organization, and hoping the said email would have attached to it, a job offer, can cause someone to reach such a stage of anxietyI never bargained for this unnecessary migraine. I am okay with the freelance writing thing I have going on on Upwork. Though the income is nothing compared to how much I love spending money, I am okay, because it isn't much of a brainer. All I do is be a ghostwriter for some author or help write school essays and get paid. And all these I do from the comfort of my home.But my mother doesn't trust that I can su

At 4:00 AM, I am in pain.And when I say pain, I don't mean ones that can get numb easily by painkillers or by having extra nap time. I am talking excruciating agony that knows no bounds.The ache is like no other. It's as though a dagger is latched into my chest or my heart is caught in someone's wicked clutch. Cold sweat breaks out on my skin. I gasp for air as my breaths suddenly become short, muscles in my eyes twitching involuntarily as teeth chatter like hail against a plain glass, lips trembling.There's a visible throb at the back of my skull, a callous squeezing on my shoulders and jaw, and I have no idea which pain to try and numb as everywhere seems to be burning.The sheets are bunched up in my fist, my face is pressed against the pillow as I struggle to fight the ache tearing at my seams, while I try hard not to alert anyone."Fuck!" I hiss in agony, tears brimming at the corners of my eyes and my hands fly from my head to clutch my chest when another agonizing squeeze wea

The sight of Romeo never fails to make my heart go into overdrive. Whether he is naked, fully clothed, or simply just bare-chested, with just sweatpants hanging below his narrow waist, there is always this excitement from within me that I can't seem to fathom.And walking into him leaning against his kitchen cabinet, chiseled abs on display as he sips lazily on his hot coffee, the feeling doesn't become old, it still makes me high, as if it's the first time.Earlier this morning, I woke up in a strange bed, wrapped in the strong arms of a stranger, with a devious hangover that threatened to split my head into halves.I didn't and couldn't even remember the stranger's face from the night before other than his striking, oddly familiar blue eyes. I told him it was a mistake and that I was under the influence. But the fool must have thought I liked to just walk into a club, get drunk and bang the next possible man. So he told me he had a good time and that he would see me again. I waved

I push open my door on my return from the store down the street and see Romeo still sprawled out on the bed, peacefully sound asleep.Sighing, I walk toward my dresser and sink into the chair before it, twisting my body to an angle where my right arm rests on the back of the chair while I watch him sleep.His face does look a little peaceful now unlike before, forget the slight tug of his lower lip or the gentle crease of his brows.I sit in that position, watching him as though I am some hopeless lover. Maybe I am. I find myself dozing off a few minutes after, only deciding to go and lie next to him when my head is almost disengaged from my body.I climb up and settle next to him, my back toward him. Maybe the way the bed winces beneath me announces my presence because the next thing, a large arm has pulled me against a bare chest, chiseled face nuzzling into my neck. Then a heavy sigh of relief.I am pulled into a deep sleep after that, though it feels like I didn't sleep for long a