'Lissa Stufflestreet
Bio
I'm just a daydreaming college student who's been manifesting becoming a writer since I was five. I never stick to just one writing genre (and typically write dark content). | she/they
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Stories (264)
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Holding on For Dear Life..
He slammed the door shut on the way out. I curled up in my bed, squeezing the stuffed animal I keep on my bed close to me as tears rolled down my cheeks. Unbelievable. Mom promised that she'll get him to stop. She promised me that she'll get him the help he needed. She promised. My stomach suddenly felt nauseous as I rolled out of bed onto the floor. My body curled up into a small ball as everything flashed before my eyes.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet4 years ago in Fiction
Dreamer - Chapter 37
The ride home had been quiet. Rev had mostly kept his gaze out on the open road. He leaned his right hand against the steering wheel, while his left was held up against the window. The trees whizzed past as if we were racing them towards the house; whoever made it back first, wins. The closer we got towards my home, the fewer cars showed on the road. I'll probably never get used to life in the middle of nowhere; what the hell was my father thinking when he found this place? To break the awkward silence, I just pulled out my phone. Rev said earlier to make this technology-free.. but hey, I make my own choices now.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet4 years ago in Fiction
Dreamer - Chapter 36
I had found myself walking towards Ace's room. I had no idea why. I just felt as if it had been a while and I really needed to see him. Something in me was telling me that I needed to see if he was doing alright. I traced my fingers along his body until they reached his chest.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet4 years ago in Fiction
Free Bird
DAY 53 It has been 53 days since I last saw my foster home. This felt weird. Not weird to be out of here.. I've tried to run away before. Just weird.. in general. The last time I ran away from my foster home, I was found twenty three days later. It has now been fifty three. Did those foster parents just forget all about me? Not that I would be bummed out about that. God, please have let them forgotten all about me. If it meant they'd never once try to find me again, I'll become a ghost to them. My plan actually felt as if it was going to work this time. You can't tell since you don't technically have eyes, journal, but I happen to be smiling from ear to ear. You may think that this, running away from my foster home, is an everyday occurrence for me but I cannot help it. I may actually succeed at my chance for freedom. Maybe if all those big shots placing kids in random homes actually gave a shit about the foster children they place, I would've found the best home with loving parents who actually wanted a child and not just the paycheck that came with us. Maybe then.. I would've stayed put. But that never happened. Ever.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet4 years ago in Fiction
