Story For Teenager Novels & Stories

My name is Stella, I'm sixteen years old, and I'm the most normal girl out there, I'm not special, I'm not someone that you haven't met before, or someone whose story is going to be special, I'm just me. I'm not the first girl whose parents have decided to move, I know that I'm going to leave my life behind, it's the life that I had since the day I was born, I was born in this house, I went to the local school and I have made a few friends of my own.

I was supposed to be a naïve sixteen-year-old high school girl but I was never just a little kid at any point in my life. My mom and her friends abused my brother and me, I spent most nights in a dingy park hiding, and now as a teenager I was living with my psycho boyfriend trying to outsmart the drug lords in this town, one which was his father and another himself. I didn't get to be normal and neither did Derek or Christian. We dragged Ethan and Layla into our mess of a life and the four of us sat in a school library studying so maybe one day we would get the life we wanted.

That's good because I think I would seriously have to hurt him. "You will not harm him. When he left me at 16 to follow his lover I was really hurt and angry with him I guess I felt more abondened and I fought it. I started drinking, dancing for money and doing drugs, and running with a bad crowd. I even pushed Gabbie away from me that phase lasted about 10 months before I got caught. Then at my 17th brithday party I met Michael and even though everyone said he was bad news he was never anything but kind and sweet to me."

But, Mom," Rachel pleaded, her voice shaking with emotion, "you know how hard it is for me to connect with someone. To find someone who makes me feel alive." Rachel took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving her mother's. "Would you rather I had done this with some random boy at a party, and ended up pregnant and alone?"

Every story has a beginning, some good, some bad, mine has never been a happy one, no matter who, or how I tell it, nobody will believe me. I can't rely on the people in my life, My parents ignore me, or are cruel to me, my friends are unreliable, and aren't trustworthy either. So what happens when I turn 16 years old, and run away from my problems to another world, only to find myself in the same magical world I played make belief in as a kid? With heartbreak at every turn, and a possible new relationship on the horizon, what could possibly go wrong in this world that hasn't happened to me on Earth?!

I admitted. “Good. Because we have a proposition.” She put down the towel. “The school is doing a ‘Life Stories’ unit next semester. Not from a history book, but from real people. LJ and I were wondering… would you consider coming to talk to the seniors? Not about the foundation or the trials or any of that. Just… about change. About how a person can live a dozen different lives in one lifetime.” I stared at her, the soapy glass in my hand forgotten. “Talk to a bunch of teenagers? About my life? They’d be asleep in five minutes.”

Then, Jasper turned to me, scanning me warily and asked, "So, what's your story? How did you end up in a place like this?" I looked at him, pausing, but there was something about him that put me at ease. Maybe it was his charming smile, or maybe it was the genuine interest in his eyes. Whatever it was, I found myself opening up to him. I told him about my struggles, about how I had lost my job and was struggling to make ends meet. Jasper listened intently, as his expression grew sympathetic. "I grew up in a tough situation," I started, taking a gulp of my whiskey. "My parents were both gone by the time I became a grown teenager. My mom left when I was just a kid, and my dad... well, he just

We had some great conversations over dinner along with a couple of margaritas; her fake I.D. worked again. I told her some stories about her step dad's younger days and a little more about my ex-wife and divorce. She shared that while she dated often, she never had a long term relationship and found most boys immature. She told me, "They are only interested in one thing." "Most teenage boys are like that but they eventually grow up."

Michael let out a slow, heavy breath into the steaming water, his jaw clenching tightly as the metal tips finally clicked against the first hard silver ball deep inside his shoulder. "But then, one fateful day, the young girl completely grew tired of always sitting alone in a chair and reading heavy books," I whispered, focusing all my energy on clamping the forceps around the slick bullet. "She had already read every single storybook in her bedroom a thousand times over all by herself. Now that she had finally turned eighteen years old, the young girl was starting to get far too curious about what a real, normal life would actually look like outside the gates. She didn't want to just read a