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Post by William Demonte on Jun 11, 2009 14:39:56 GMT -5
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Post by William Demonte on Jun 11, 2009 15:13:48 GMT -5
I never thought I'd find myself writing in a journal, but recently a lot of things have got my mind ticking and this is the only way that will help it shut up. There is this girl in one of my English classes; she seemed quiet and not one to make trouble. I was wrong about that. To make a long story short: she saw me doing something I shouldn't have been doing (though I thoroughly enjoyed), blackmailed me, got in an arguement with me, and then I fucked her. Not a big deal right? On the contrary, I'm her teacher and could be potentially fired. But I'm not worried about that. What's got my mind reeling is that she kind of... gets me. No one ever really undestood me at all before, but for some reason she was different. As much of a bitch she is, she's also kind and real. Okay Demonte you're going to make yourself vomit.
New subject. I also screwed this other student and oh hell yes it was good (Not as good as the previous girl but still good). It almost happened twice until my newly adopted daughter walked in on us. That's right I'm a fucking dad. Who would have thought? I can't lie, but this asshole does have a soft spot inside of him. Her name is Alex, and she was a foster kid who was about to lose her home. I've been there and couldn't bear to let it happen to someone else. So I choked up and asked her to live with me. Not so sure if it was a good choice or a bad choice... but I know it was the right choice.
I really shouldn't have brought up anything about adoption because now all I can think about is my own adoptive parents. Fuck them. And fuck my real parents too. My real parents were nothing but wastes of space. We lived in one of the worst parts of New York City in the shittiest apartment. They took no care of it, along with taking no care of me. All they cared about was getting their fix. We had no money, and barely any food. Only drugs, and lots of them. One day my mom got HIV from sharing one of her needles and died the next winter. I was eight. She left us while she was laying in the bathtub, getting high like usual. Don't ask me why she was in the bathtub because I don't know either. She closed her eyes to ride out that damned wave and never woke up. At least she died happy... I think. I went to sleep that night in my ratty bed and woke up to a loud bang. It was a gunshot. I ran into the bathroom and there was my dad with a bullet through his head laying on top of my mom's already dead body. We didn't have a phone so I ran down the four flights of stairs and into the street screaming for help. It took about an hour before a cop pulled over and asked me what the hell I was doing on the streets and 3 AM. So I took him up there and told him everything.
The next thing I knew, I was being carted off to an orphanage. I was there for about a year until someone picked me. These rich son of a bitches from the wealthiest part of the city. What a turn around, huh? I got everything I wanted, everything except a family that cared. I grew up bitter and resentful and just used my fosted parents to pay for my schooling. Once I finished my master's degree program and got a job at The Parthanon, I left them for good. I haven't spoken to them since.
Well this helped get a lot off of my mind, and surprisingly I feel much better. I've only got about five more minutes until these freshmen kids leave my class. They're taking a test on a book probably none of them read. Oh well, that's not my problem.
- D
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Post by William Demonte on Jun 11, 2009 17:37:28 GMT -5
Since I decided to hold on to the journal and not throw it away immediately, I figured I should spruce it up a bit. I got out my old camera and took some photos to paper clip in here. Besides, I work hard on keeping my place looking good. I'd like to look at it once in a while.
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This is one shot of the living room. I keep it nice and dim, sets the mood just right.
Here in the other corner I have my personal bar along with my favorite chair. I spend a lot of my time here.
Finally, its my bedroom. Its where all the magic happens. Of course, magic can also happen elsewhere.
- D
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Post by William Demonte on Jun 16, 2009 14:42:24 GMT -5
Here I am, writing in this journal again. But I have a lot on my mind, especially after the other night. I, William Demonte, went on a date with Miss Goodwin the history teacher. Very crazy and unexpected, I know. The day started off terrible; we got in a fighting match in the lounge and then some how it turned into her asking me out. You know I don't think I ever enjoyed myself so much as that night. Honestly, I probably made a fool of myself saying some things that maybe I shouldn't have told her about so soon. I should cut back on the alcohol.
After we left the bar she forced me to dance with her in the street and surprisingly it was a blast. Then we kissed. Holy hell. It was amazing. She's amazing. I never felt this way about someone before, and I only spent one night with her. Phoebe really knows how to get me to let go of anything negative in my life and just relax. I didn't want to leave her that night, but I didn't want to go upstairs with her. For some reason I wanted this date to be different. Phoebe deserves more than sex on a first date. She deserves so much more than that.
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Post by William Demonte on Jun 16, 2009 14:44:47 GMT -5
Before school the other day, Ville showed up. I wasn't expecting things to get going so soon. Hell, I still thought he was full of shit. Here I find out that its Callie he's after which I will not approve of. Callie is... Callie. I can't hurt her, as much as she deserves it sometimes. Ville told me that apparently she is a vampire? If I had any guess it was Ville who was the freak of nature. I confessed to Callie that I knew, but she denied it. And then she kissed me. I hate women. Fuck. I love women. God damnit.
What the fuck is wrong with this world? I need to talk to Ville about this bullshit. I need some answers. I'm walking around either laughing at his stupid story or looking over my shoulder every minute to make sure I'm not about to be jumped by a vampire. I haven't even seen one yet. Okay, well I guess Callie if she really is one. I had to make sure to take care of my own luck. I got my gun out of storage and started carrying it around... just in case. No one fucks with me.
Fuck I just realized something. Phoebe can NOT know about this. I don't want to scare her away or have her think I'm insane. I'm not, am I? I don't think I am. Maybe sometimes. God I can't get her out of my mind. I need to see her again. Seeing her at school isn't enough.
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