You’re perfect

This song means the world to me. Selena is so inspiring and beautiful this song has helped me get through a lot. She's helped me feel beautiful and worth it. Everyone of you are beautiful and perfect being you, always remember that, don't change for others, don't let others deiced if your beautiful or not, no one defines you but you. Xo E [embedyt][/embedyt]

Home (Short story)

This is just a creative piece I’ve written, this is just one example of the things that you can post on this page, this page is about you, your opinion, your values and views of the world we are living in. Write on events or issues, write creative pieces, poems, short stories, little bits of whatever. Write what you want, with in reason remember;

You are intilted to your own opinion and feelings, but you still need to be respectable you don’t have to agree with others but you do have to respect their feelings and opinions.

All rude comments and posts will not appear on the website



Home is where you feel safe and loved and comfortable, home is where you feel like you belong not where you think you’re supposed to be. Home is where you want it to be, not where people tell you.


She runs though the hallways stumbling as she gasp for air, her breath’s short and jagged, she pushes open the bathroom door and runs in to a stall, closing the door she sinks to the floor bringing her knees to her chest as tears running down her face, she tries to control her breathing but she can’t its too much. Taking out her phone she tries desperately to see what she’s doing, though the blur of her tears, she opens her messages and clicks on their name, she types in a letter, only a letter, not a word, nothing but a letter, but she knows after that she’ll be ok, because to the person, that letter means what she can’t say.

It only took 3 minutes for her to calm down a little but her breaths were still short and uneven, tears still ran down her cheeks, they fell to her knees, she continued to gradually feel better but she knew nothing would truly help her feel like herself again until they were beside her. She awaited them to hold her and whisper reassuring things in her ear. Only this would return her breathing back to normal and she would feel safe again.

The door swings opens, just the sound of their voice slows her heart closer to its regular rhythm and her lungs begin to accept oxygen back into her body.

“Audrey!” their voice tries to appear strong and calm but she can hear the trace of worry in it.

“R-rr-Ross” she managers to get out. Pushing the door open, her eyes immediately find his, her best friend Ross; the only person who can calm her down no matter how strong of an attack she gets. The only person she feels safe and comfortable and loved with.

He quickly takes her in his arms, and cradles her in his lap. His hold is tight enough to make her feel safe and protected, but loose enough for her to breath.

“Shhhh, you’re okay now, everything is all right, just breathe with me,” he tells her in a quiet and caring voice. He takes deep breaths as he places her hand on his chest so that she can match his steady breathing.

“You ok?” he asks; she nods in reply. Her breaths have returned back to their normal rhythm and her tears have stopped. She wraps her arms around his strong torso hugging him; he softly kisses the top of her head.

“Come on, I’ll take you home”

“Will you stay tonight?” she asks, her voice quiet and hoarse while they make their way towards the car park.

“I wish I could Auds” he replies regretfully

“I’ve got my family coming over for Grams 70th birthday”

She nods understandably ”Right, I forgot, tell her I say Happy Birthday,” she says quietly.

“Of course” he replies, shooting her a smile as he pulls out of the car park.


She sits at home on the couch, the TV on, but she’s not watching it, she’s just staring at it. Her mind is elsewhere, back in the bathroom, into Ross’s arms, back to where she felt safe, loved, comfortable, warm and not alone. She sighs and looks around her house, her parents of course are at work and won’t be back until very late. Her brother is most likely stuffing around doing something he really shouldn’t be, hanging with his stupid friends, probably getting in to trouble. Here she’s not comfortable, she doesn’t feel safe or loved. She feels alone and cold and empty. Like she always does in her house, her ‘home.’

She gets up and goes to her room to start her homework. She looks down at the English assignment she has.

What does home mean to you? Where’s your home? Who’s there with you?

She stares at the blank sheet of paper for 30 minutes, not writing anything just letting her mind wander to where she feels most at home, it wanders back to Ross.

She starts writing, it’s not much, only about 30 words.

To me, home is where you feel safe and valued and relaxed, when you’re at home, you don’t feel alone. My home, is wherever Ross is.

She knows she should probably write more but, there’s nothing else to write, that’s her answer, nothing more to it.

She walks around the park, it’s late she finished her homework so she decided to go out to get some fresh air. She has the English assignment in her pocket, incase she thinks of anything else to add. Her thoughts wander back to the attack today and what caused it to happen.

She was in class and the teacher, who happened to be a fill in, asked her to answer a question. All of her teachers know that she can’t talk in front of the class without feeling really uncomfortable. Most of the time it triggers an attack. The substitute teacher didn’t know, he asked her something but she couldn’t answer. Her mouth opened and closed but no words came out, people started laughing she could hear them whispering about her.

All of a sudden the feeling came back. It was like a huge wave crashed over her, pushing her to the ground. She tried to steady herself and pull out her phone. Her breaths became more erratic, and she struggled to grasp the phone, which was wrapped in her assignment.

Her attack was so intense that she knew she wouldn’t be able to contact Ross now. She could barely register that there was a concerned woman walking towards her. As the woman approached, Audrey realized she was beyond being able to ask for help. Desperately, she held out her hand containing her phone and assignment. Immediately the woman understood how to help her.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll call Ross.”


xo E

“To day you are you, that is truer than true. There is NO ONE ALIVE is youer than YOU!” – Dr Seuss”