story time.

probably going to delete this blog or just password it

sendinthesun — Thu, 02 Aug 2012 12:06:25 -0400

probably going to delete this blog

or just password it

Hey guys! I’m planning to update an old story of mine, so just in case you haven’t read...

sendinthesun — Tue, 10 Apr 2012 11:59:44 -0400

Hey guys!

I’m planning to update an old story of mine, so just in case you haven’t read it you can here!

Thanks! <3

Hello! So, I’m going to try and write a bit more again, as I’ve had a few ideas floating...

sendinthesun — Sun, 01 Apr 2012 16:57:01 -0400

Hello!

So, I’m going to try and write a bit more again, as I’ve had a few ideas floating around in my head and I have undoubtedly fallen back in love with Youtube.

So yeah. A huge thank you for not unfollowing from lack of updates, you’re awesome! <3

jhgkdfg sorry for the insane lack of posts!

sendinthesun — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 13:16:57 -0500

Like some people, my likes and obsessions change like the wind. Because of this, I have been a terrible audience member and have slowly faded away from my love for Toby, hence the lack of stories.

But I can assure you I will try and come up with a couple one shots for you guys. Not that any of you would have noticed me gone, lmfao.

K thanks guys! <3

Ask Me To Stay - epilogue.

sendinthesun — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 15:19:17 -0500

Goodbye, Toby. From mum, dad, all the doctors and nurses, Nana Margaret, Uncle Albert, Aunty Anne and probably most of all, Dakotah. Hope it’s not raining where you are now.

Truly loving someone is watching them die,
but don’t you dare say goodbye.
This won’t end with the last breath I breathe;
your heart will always belong to me.
So as I go, when I pass,
I’ll be in your arms’ warm grasp.
And as my eyes slip closed
Say those words that never grow old.
And even though you may not hear
‘My heart is forever yours,’ I whisper in your ear.
I’ll seal this vow with one more kiss
before I fall into Death’s bittersweet bliss.

‘It’s a beautiful poem,’ the lonely girl says, clutching the newspaper in her long-fingered hand as she stares down at the freshly-dug grave. ‘Just like you.’ She pauses, her voice faltering just a little. The silent, black-clothed figures have long since departed the cemetery, leaving just the girl by himself.

‘Oh, Toby,’ she sighs heavily. ‘Everything’s gone wrong, Toby. I can’t stop trying to find you in other people. I need to find you in other people. Nobody’s as perfect as you. Someone asked me out last week and I just … I just can’t do it anymore, Toby. You promised me you wouldn’t leave me!’

The picture in the newspaper stares back at the her.

A loud sob splits through the cold November air, as Dakotah sinks to the floor, praying for rain.

____________________

Hi there! Sorry this got cut really short, it’s just I’m rather busy in mah lyfe atm and I don’t really have time to write. So forgive me!

I didn’t just decide to kill him off to shorten the story btw, that was always gonna be the outcome :)

Thank you for your support, as always! You’re incredible audience. <3

Ask Me To Stay - part nine.

sendinthesun — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 15:56:50 -0500

3 MONTHS LATER

Toby.

It’s one morning and I awake to see Dakotah in the chair fast asleep. She stirs a few moments later, slowly opens her eyes and smiles at me. I smile back, a genuine smile. The first one in a while. She sits up, stretching her arms, ‘How’re you feeling?’

I don’t say how I really feel. Today I feel different. I feel sick, worse than most days. The feelings in both legs have completely gone and I’m finding it hard to breathe. But I don’t say that.

‘Alright,’ I say.

A while later, she arises from her chair, grabbing her back. She leans down and presses her lips gently on mine. It hurts a bit, but I keep that inside.

‘I’ll be back tomorrow. Cya handsome.’ She winks and then leaves. I lean back, before falling into a painful sleep.

‘Toby! What are you doing out of bed?’ Dr. Andrews is standing behind me, hands on hips. ‘Come on, back you go.’

I follow him, clutching at the wall for support.

‘How are you feeling?’ he hangs back to walk with me, holding me by my arm a little too tightly.

‘Fine, thanks,’ I mutter as my feet shuffle along the floor. ‘Holding up as much as I can do, I suppose.’

He puts me carefully in my bed, pulling the sheet up over me and tucking me in. His nails scratch against my skin and I wince. Then he leaves, closing the door behind him, and I’m left on my own once again.

*

Is it just me, or are my heartbeats stilling?

Is it just me, or am I finding it harder to breathe?

Is it just me, or are my eyes sliding closed?

Is it just me, or am I slipping away?

Dakotah, hurry up, you promised me you’d be here …

Is it just me or—

Beep.

Dakotah, please, I’m so afraid. Open the door, now, I need to see him, I need to be with him, I need him to hold my hand. Oh, Dakotah where are you?

Beep.

Dakotah, sing to me, sing a song, any song, make me smile, I want to smile, I can’t smile, I can’t breathe Dakotah, where are you?

Beep.

Dakotah, oh please, Dakotah, break the door down and hold me, please, you told me, you said, you swore, you promised, please Dakotah, where are you?

Did my heart just miss a beat? Am I dying? I’m dying, oh God, I’m dying, please come, you need to come, I need to be with you, I need you now, please.

Where are you?

I fall onto my side, my hand curling slowly into a fist and my eyes fluttering. Tears cascade down onto the white bed linen and my breath is short and fractured.

Beep.

‘Dakotah…’ I whisper. My eyes fall onto the book on my table, alongside a silver pen. Without thinking I reach out and take them, uncurling my hand to write.

All those smiles, all those giggles, you told me you loved me when the sun slid up onto the sky, and you told me that you would be with me for the rest of my life …

Beep.

My hand is shaking as tears splash onto the page, blurring my words. My eyes slide frantically across the blank page. My writing is atrocious.

I try to smile, but somehow the muscles aren’t working and I can’t breathe properly, oh Dakotah, I can’t breathe.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-be—

‘I love you Dakotah.’

And then I die

Ask Me To Stay - part eight.

sendinthesun — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 15:12:35 -0500

Dakotah.

Toby has been on my mind all day. All week in fact.

He made me want to do these things.

He made me want to do the extraordinary.

Be the extraordinary.

I had tried to push to the back of my mind, Toby’s condition, because to me that was all it was. It wasn’t fatal, it couldn’t possibly be…

You ran away again Dakotah! My thoughts plague me as I slam myself down onto a chair, hands over my face as I lick my lips beneath them.

My lips feel chapped yet I can’t help running my tongue over the rough skin. It reminds me of Toby.

It reminds me of our kiss…

It reminds me of that amazing man.

A dying man.

I shake my head rubbing my eyes and staring blindly at the clock. The time seems to have settled at half three.

I have somewhere I have to be.

And if it took me hours and hours of thinking of pointless explanations just to get there, then it would.

I know I will do it…

I will do it for Toby.

*

I run my fingers through my hair for the last time as I pace, annoyed with myself.

I pass his door and then back again more times than I wish to realize.

“I’m sorry… No! I just wanted to apologize… No, Dakotah, too formal!” I snap to myself throguh a muttered whisper as I stalk up and down, my shoes squeaking angrily against the floor everytime I turned on my heels.

“You know talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.” A small voice mumbled almost inaduiably as I turned back to see Toby leaning on the doorframe clumisly. Almost weak. I let my breath linger in the air as I exhale, the view of his fragile state sending a frenzy of nerves through my body. I’m scared to break him.

Scared he will break me too.

I blink at him, his hazel eyes staring at me, not judgmental or in annoyance as I presumed it would be. But his gaze is soothing, somewhat caring. I swallow the lump in my throat and let my grin stretch to the one side.

“Yeah I heard that too.” I manage to whisper and it doesn’t take long for the two of us to exchange those glances of ours.

He steps back casually allowing me to walk passed him. I do so. I step inside the familiar room and sigh at the thought of this being his home. And the fact he acts as though he doesn’t mind.

No, I knew Toby better then that. I hoped.

“You look well today.” I say, to break the silence which seemed to fall. He stares at me emptily.

“There was something else I came to say Toby…”

“What, before you leave me again? Confused? Alone?” He interrupts sourly.

“That’s what I came to talk about actually…” I admit shuffling a fraction closer to him and wringing my fingers together.

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it.” He barks and I wince as he lets out a cough at the strain of his own words.

“Yes, you do want to hear it Toby, and I came to tell you…” I stare at the bed sheets and I know now there is no going back. Now I have to tell him the truth behind my constant depatures, and the reason to why my guard is crashing down at brute force.

“Then why do you always leave me Dakotah? Leave me feeling confused and not to mention used at that!” He says, a little softer now, and that is when the panic begins. The panic that makes me want to run again, makes me want to run into the middle of the nearest road and scream abuse at the oncoming drivers in my way, just to see who would hit me first…

“Toby.” I already wish I could start the sentence again as I feel the patronizing way his name rolls off my tongue. I let my face contort briefly until I look at him once more. I saw him wince too. “I leave because I can’t stand how dependent I’m becoming on you, and pretty soon…pretty soon…” My words are stumbling.

“Pretty soon what Dakotah?!” He shouts as loud as he can muster and the volume causes me to jump, despite how weakened it is compared to an ordinary man’s raise of voice. He is looking back at me now, his brows knitted together, his arms flailing around him as his chest heaves up and down and the beeps on the machine next to him accelerate a little.

His voice is breaking me. His words are smothering me. His thoughts are attacking me.

And then I see it. In the form of a dazzling sentence, one that sums up absolutely every fear in my head.

“Pretty soon you’re gonna leave me too!” I shout, slamming my eyelids together.

The silence washes over us and immediately I feel a relief lifting from my shoulders at the idea of telling him why I run. Why I have to leave. Why I can’t keep by his side. When he wishes me to. When he needs me more then anything.

I let my eyes roll up to meet Toby’s and I am slightly taken aback when I find myself staring into his hazel orbs. They look startled yet alert. They look afraid, yet one hundred percent sure. They look saddened, yet content. He is so unreadable that I want to run again but somehow my feet are glued to the floor and at last I breathe in and no longer feel fear.

He does nothing but raise his arms. I stare blankly at him for a few moments, unsure of why he isn’t shouting or crying or displaying any sign of being afraid. Instead he is offering the dying man before him comfort.

I simply allow my feet to make their way over to his bed.

Before I am aware of it I am lowering myself down onto it and lying beside him, arms draped over his dainty waist as his wrap around my shoulders, little cold fingers twiddling strands of my hair.

We remain this way for longer than I could have thought. His breath brushing tenderly at my hair, as I stroke the bare skin of his hip as his robe rides up sufficiently. I am exhausted. I am tired. I am hopeless for the man beside me. Though I have no idea why. No idea of the spell he has cast over me.

We lie there for a while. My arms wrapped around Toby. His arms wrapped around me. I shut my eyes and inhale deeply, until all my thoughts subside and I am free for a few moments in Toby’s embrace.

I am free…

I lied with what I first said to Toby. About him looking well. Today Toby looks particularly awful.

Face blanched.

Eyes sunken.

Arms thin.

I nuzzle my face further into his neck and failing to repress the single tear that slides gently down my cheek, as my thoughts come to one conclusion.

That Toby is weakening.

That he is going to die.

Die…

Ask Me To Stay - part seven.

sendinthesun — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 13:41:23 -0500

Toby.

Why did she run away?

I lie awake, furious with her. She can’t decide. She can’t choose what she wants to do. My eyes prick with more unshed tears as I lie on top of my hand, putting pressure on it, trying to cease the pain. It works, just for a second, as numbness steals through my frame. I let a sigh escape my lips.

The book she gave me is hanging from the table slightly. I pick it up and flick on the light, opening it and starting to read. We hadn’t even passed the first page when she had stopped. The words barely register as I reflect bitterly that I can’t concentrate. I am thinking of her and not of the words that run through my head.

I push the book back onto my bedside table, staring at the bottom of the bed.

I grunt and place the heels of my hands on the temples of my head, pushing hard, trying to make the thoughts disappear.

I let go of my head just as a short, sharp tap makes me jerk my head to the window. Nothing there.

The usual paranoia, Toby, I tell myself bitterly. Your emotions are getting the better of you.

But then the glass is tapped again and this time I can’t mistake it. I slowly climb out of bed and walk slowly over towards it, frowning. I open it as quietly as possible, looking around for any sign of life. It is when I look down that I see it.

Her.

Dakotah.

She has a pile of stones in her hand, and is in the process of throwing another one up. Without warning, her hand lashes back and the pebble makes sharp contact with my eye.

‘Ow,’ I can’t help gasping as I cup my eye with my hand.

‘Shit, sorry,’ she says. ‘Can I come up?’

‘Whatever.’ I reply.

I walk back and lay in the bad, resting my head on the pillow. Before long, Dakotah is standing at my door, arms crossed against her chest.

‘Is your eye OK?’ she asks.

I don’t turn to face her.

‘C’mon, Toby, don’t do this. Stop acting like a kid.’

I still don’t turn.

She grabs my shoulders and spins me around to face her, her fingers brushing over my closed eye. ‘It looks like it’s going to bruise,’ she tells me. ‘It’s gone a bit purple.’

‘It’s your fault,’ I say childishly, and immediately regret it.

‘I know,’ she says, sighing heavily and walking over to my bed. She sits on the end.

‘Listen, Toby—’

‘Just because I am dying doesn’t mean I can’t hear you,’ I snap.

She picks at a thread on the sleeve of her black hooded jumper. ‘Don’t … don’t say that,’

‘What?’

‘Don’t say that you’re dying …’ she says quietly. ‘Not like that.’

‘But I am dying,’ I protest. ‘And there’s nothing I can do about it,’

‘Yes, there is,’ she says. She’s nearing closer to me, until all of a sudden he’s sitting right beside me.

She licks her lips, moistening them as they crawl ever closer to me. Her breath is shaky and uneven.

‘I can’t do this,’ she mumbles, tripping over her words. ‘Not anymore. I can’t stay away from you. I can’t delude myself.’

Her lips brush softly against my cheek, just for a second.

‘Dakotah…’ I choke; the butterflies in my stomach increase suddenly, along with the burning. It’s spreading through my body, making me want to scream. ‘Dakotah… it hurts … please … stop it hurting …’

I don’t know why I’m asking her, only that I need her to do what I say.

‘I don’t know how to,’ she says, her voice begging for forgiveness. She pulls back the covers and lies down beside me, her right hand on my waist. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mutters against my shoulder where her head is resting.

I turn over to face her, her beautiful eyes troubled, her brow furrowed. ‘Why am I here?’

She isn’t asking me; she’s asking himself.

‘This is wrong,’ she whispers, her words washing over me like the tide. ‘This is so wrong …’

‘So wrong it’s right,’ I smile wryly. She smiles back, closing the gap between our needy lips. Hers are soft and warm and comfortable, her eyes closed delicately, the dark eyelashes brushing my cheekbone as she tilts her head to the right. When she pulls away, it is with a reluctance she can’t quite mask.

And then she’s gone.

My eyes fly open.

Was it a dream?

It was a dream, wasn’t it?

Please, let it have been a dream …

I don’t want it to have been a dream …

I want her here …

Please.

Stay Beautiful - part four.

sendinthesun — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 14:47:00 -0500

[ A tiny tiny update, I’M SO SORRY. My mind is just worrying about a ton other stuff at the moment. ]

Danielle’s eyes were glued to her computer screen, her mouth wide open. She re-read the sentence in front of her an infinate amount of times before it finally sunk it;

“Toby Turner would like to add you as a friend.”

“Yo Dan, pick your jaw off the ground. What’s up?” Asked Beckie, walking over to the computer. She rested a hand on her shoulder, looking down a the screen. Suddenly, her face held the same reaction.

“What the hell do I do!?” Exclaimed Danielle, standing up and pacing the room.

Why had he added her? How did he find her? Maybe he wants to see me, she thought. No, why would he want that. She ran a hand through her blonde locks, before rubbing her eyes in frustration.

Suddenly she felt pathetic. Stupid. ‘I’m overacting,’ she thought. ‘This is what I wanted.’

Danielle sat back in the chair, hovering her mouse over the accept button and double clicking it. She sat back in the chair.

‘Well done,’ she thought.

Toby played with the sleeves of his hoodie nervously. Here he was, just earlier today doing his normal Star buck pick up and making today’s lazy vlog when this all unfolded. Now he’s sat here, coffee in front of him, waiting for one girl he ever loved to come through the door.

It had been so long. So long since their summer fling. But Toby knew that from the first moment he saw Danielle he was in love. She made him feel special, important. They’d spend mostly every summer evening tucked up in his tree house, staring out across the landscapes. Until she had to go home.

Then they hardly ever spoke. They both went back to college and work took over their lives. In the end Danielle got a new number and lost his, well, that’s the reason he came up with.

Toby was so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed the seat in front of him was taken. A polite cough broke the silence before he finally looked up. And there she was. Sitting in all her glory, a look of concern on her face. She was always concerned about him.

“You alright?” Her thick English accent instantly made him smile. Toby rubbed his eyes, sitting up straight.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Hi.”

“Hello.” replied Danielle, a tiny smile evident.

Do you have any tips on making your writing better?

Wed, 18 Jan 2012 18:18:42 -0500

Practice. That’s all I could say. Anyone can write.

What I would say is have a strong story line, plan out how your stories going to go. Create interesting characters, and try and create a engaging story line.

Hope that helps! <3

You are such a good writer! i just read Ask me to Stay and i love it :)

Wed, 18 Jan 2012 16:52:15 -0500

Thank you anon! <3

Ask Me To Stay - part six.

sendinthesun — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 14:55:00 -0500

Toby.

I dreamt about her that night. I dreamt about her voice and her soft, pleading words, and her eyes. I dreamt about the smile that graced her lips as she spoke.

And then I cried.

I didn’t cry for her. I know it wasn’t for her. I cried for myself, for the burn that swallowed my body whole and for the ache that I felt constantly, every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

When my eyes were sore and red and my head was spinning, I finally let my eyes slide closed.

And I dreamt about her some more.

*

There she is, standing in the doorway, her soft brunette hair falling. She waves and walks slowly towards the seat.

‘Hi, Toby,’ she says.

‘Hello.’

She looks at me for a long time, longer than I think possible.

I wonder what kind of girl she is. Shy and quiet, her head in a book almost constantly? Or loud and outgoing, with a man every other night? Maybe a bit of both?

She takes in a breath. ‘I brought you something,’ she tells me, and I see a plastic bag sitting by her leg. ‘I thought it would be … better than Wuthering Heights. Just … something small.’

She pulled a book out of the bag. I reconiged the cover instantly, anyone would. It was Harry Potter and The Sorcerers’ Stone. It looks beaten up, like it’s been in her family for years. She smiles down at it before handing it to me.

“I’ve never been through anything like this, have it happen to me or my family members. But when I was young, my Dad was stationed in the army. It was dangerous business, and before he left one time, he gave me this book. It was for me to remember him by. And it got me through the worst of times.”

I feel a hot flush creep from my neck towards my cheeks as I take the book, my fingers lightly scraping hers.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper, smiling at her.

‘You know, that’s the first time you’ve really smiled at me,’ she remarks. ‘You should do it more.’

I hold out the book to her. ‘Read it to me.’

‘What?’ she says sharply.

‘Read the book. Please.’

She sighs and opens the stiff cover, flicking past all of the worthless pages to the first chapter. She clears her throat, her smooth cheeks flushed with pink, and begins to read.

‘Mr and Mrs Dursely, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.”

She stops suddenly, glancing up at me, as if to make sure I was still listening. I was.

She looks back down to the book, and continues to read.

“Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.”

‘Are you afraid, Toby?’ she suddenly asks.

‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘Yes, I am. More than anything else I’ve ever been afraid of in my life.’

She blinks, leaning closer towards me. ‘I want to help you,’ she mutters. Each word is a tiny butterfly popping into existence inside my stomach. ‘I want to make you better.’ She is too close to me now, her eyes raking over my face as if she’ll never see it again. Her nose is gently touching mine, I can taste the mint of her toothpaste in my mouth, along with the slightly rank flavor of smoke-

And then all of a sudden, she’s standing by the door, her back to me.

‘Bye Toby,’ she chokes, before she’s speeding down the corridor.

I lie flat on my back and let the tears stream down my face.

This time I don’t cry about the pain racking through my body, or the fire that started in my head and made its’ way all the way down to my toes.

I cry for Dakotah.

Ask Me To Stay - part five.

sendinthesun — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 13:28:13 -0500

Dakotah.

B-cell chronic lymphocytic leukemia (also known as “chronic lymphoid leukemia” or “CLL”), is a type of leukemia, or cancer of the white blood cells…

Survival varies from 5 years to more than 25 years.

I slam the book shut in my hands and drop my head into my sweating palms. I am breathing shakily for some reason. My eyes look down at the book on the oak table beneath me. I sit back, running my fingers through my hair and holding onto the top of my head exasperatedly.

“I’m in over my head…” I whisper distantly as my eyes fall onto the thickness of the book.

So many pages.

So many unnecessary pages when all that is needed is one word…

“Death.” I whisper and shut my eyes.

I don’t know why I had grown so attached to this stranger. Toby, even. I shouldn’t claim him as a stranger anymore. I should remember that.

I stayed at the hospital a little longer. At first I stayed from guilt, I didn’t want to leave Toby on his own. But after a while, I wanted to stay. And before long, a tiny smile crept on his face once in a while.

I don’t know why this was happening. Why I was so infatuated with this man. It felt wrong, in a way. He was dying, and even if a something was to come out of this, he would surely die and I’d be left alone again. But I can’t shake him away from me. I just can’t.

I pause just outside of the familiar door of the hospital. I had been fidgeting all the while through visiting my sister, simply awaiting the next encounter Toby and I would have. And now I am here. I want nothing more than to turn around and run away.

I swallow my pride.

Before I can control what was happening, my hand reaches up and knocks on the door. I open it, and his beautiful eyes suddenly shoot towards me. No smile, though.

“Hello, Toby. How are you?” I say quietly, taking my usual space beside his bed.

“Why are you here?!” He splutters, as a cough erupts from his mouth at the force of his words. I am shocked by them. My heart begins to beat fast and the questions I beg to ask him swarm through my head.

“Listen, I don’t know why I am here, OK?” I choose to say as I take steps closer to him, his eyes on me, boring a hole into me. “I just… You’re so… Listen.”

“Just because I’m dying it doesn’t mean that I can’t hear you clearly! Stop telling me to listen, it’s rude and highly patronizing!” He snaps.

“I apologize. But what I’m trying to say is that… You… You’re… I feel as though… I’ve read books about you.” I say and he raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his face at my stupidity.

“Well not about you … but … your condition.” I say, a little smile crawling onto my lips as I notice one on his too.

He listens as I tell him all I’ve learnt. All I’ve wanted to know. All I’ve acknowledged. His eyes watch my lips as I speak. My eyebrows crease as I notice this, but I continue talking anyway.

“Why… why are you doing this?” He asks, his eyes gazed with water.

“Because you deserve someone to care.”

No Regrets - one shot.

sendinthesun — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 17:45:00 -0500

(This was an old story I wrote on my main blog, which you can find here.)

“So, remember to like and comment, answering this weeks question. And I’ll see you guys soon! Bye!” You blow a kiss to the camera before covering the lense with your right hand. You were never very impressed with your outro, but with most outros already been used, you stuck with the corny hand-over-lense situation. You stopped the camera from recording before spinning around in your chair to your desk. You pulled your hair back into a messy ponytail and prepared yourself for the tedious task of editing.

You are a Youtuber, after all. It wasn’t your chosen profession, you had always wanted to be [insert desired job here], but sometimes life can take funny turns. You had been making videos for a few years, just you talking to a camera about real life stuff. You didn’t class yourself a comedian, you just spoke about your thoughts and opinions on annoying things. You’d been on the website long enough to see the changes; to see Fred finally knocked off the most subscribed seat, to witness the crashes and failures of the sites systems, and to see the people you now class as friends grow within their careers and achieve some pretty awesome stuff.

You knew your big break was coming; that someone out there would see your videos and ask you to interview celebrities, or attend red carpet events. Maybe even appear in a movie of some sort. You could feel it. But you were prepared to wait patiently like everyone else. It was funny to you, thinking that maybe one day you could be the most subscribed on Youtube. It had become such a huge community since you made your first video, and it seemed nowadays it was possible. Back then you were lucky to get 900 videos on a video, now you were getting around 800,000.

You imported your footage into final cut pro. You watched back your footage, laughing at your silly outtakes, or a sentence you had said. With Halloween coming up, you decided to speak about costumes, and stupid horror movies. Your style was always comical, or just you ranting. It made you quite popular, and you had a wide range of audience. You cut out a couple parts where you rambled about nothing important, and swiftly edited together to good stuff.

You mind was still racing about what had happened the night before. You had gone round to a friends house party, which happened to be frequent in L.A. And he was there. Of course he was there. Him. Him who wears his own shirt shamelessly, him who speaks so fast sometimes you just nod and smile when you have no idea what he’s on about, him who is just so perfect you can’t help bu-.

You shake your head. You’re thinking about Toby again. He’s been all you’ve been thinking about for a few months now. You met at VidCon in the summer, where you accidentally bumped into him backstage. You recognized him instantly, and he did you. You discussed how you had watched each others videos for years, Toby subscribing to you after a few days you put up your first video. Your conversation lasted for a couple of hours before you parted. When you returned home, you skyped constantly before realizing you lived 10 minutes away from each other, and you’ve practically been inseparable since.

But something had changed. Sure, you noticed how terribly good looking Toby was, but for the last few weeks you started to really notice. You noticed little things he’d do that you didn’t before, like how he’d touch his face when he was nervous, and the little smile plastered to his face whilst reading fan mail. You also noticed how he treated you differently to other girls. He hugged you differently than before, he’d rest his hands on the small of your back and his head on top of yours. The look in his eye was different when he watched you ramble on about nothing. Could he… no. You shook your head again, determined to get this video edited. You it had to be finished within the next two hours, because guess who’s house you were going to?

A small time later, you gave up. Your video didn’t seem to want to export, so in order to save yourself from having to buy a new laptop from throwing yours at a wall, you stepped away. You walked over to your wardrobe, throwing on a random hoodie and shoes. You picked up your keys, phone and camera and walked out the door and down the breezy Californian street. Off you go, to spend the evening with the man you were hopelessly in love with.

As you walked briskly down the street, you check your phone. You reply to a couple tweets, and complain about the weather in your jokey manner. You send a quick text to Toby, informing him that you should be at his in a couple minutes. You shove your phone in your pocket, not expecting a reply. Toby constatly loses his phone, and today shouldn’t be any different.

You listen intently at the noises around you; the birds chirping, cars driving past, life moving around you. Then your mind flings back to last night. You sigh to yourself as you remember more and more. You weren’t entirely sober for the duration of the party, and from what you could remember, it was a good one. All your favourite people were there, many vloggers and cameras circulating, documenting the evenings events. And, dear god, you hoped no one captured the moment which was playing on your mind.

It was only a little kiss. You think, anyway. It was only a tiny, millescule moment that, in all honesty, you couldn’t remember. It wasn’t until you received a text from Justine asking if you remembered that parts of the moment came back to you. Being the tease she was, she didn’t tell you who it was with. You spent the whole morning making a list of all the men at the party, crossing names off which you knew it couldn’t be. Her only clue to you was that they were single, which narrowed down the list to an extent. With this information, it was between 9 men. She also told you that it was in the bathroom, and the light wasn’t on. Great, you thought, that’s really helpful. You stared down at the list of 9 remaining names, deciding which you’d be okay with, which you’d be slightly grossed out by and a couple you’d regret deeply. One name stood out from the rest.

Your mind snapped back to now by a passing lorry. You pulled your arms closer around your body in a attempt for additional warmth. Living in L.A, you weren’t used to the cold. Winter was coming, but you were excited. There was nothing lovelier than snuggle weather, big hoodies and a warm cup of coffee.

As you approached the familiar driveway, your heart starts beating twice as fast. You pinch your right arm in an attempt to calm down, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference. Your body hesitates, but you knock on the door. You hear manly giggles and what appears to be a Rihanna song before the door swings open. Standing there is Toby, in his turquoise Tobuscus shirt and blue sweat band around his head. He pants whilst holding onto the door, giving you a weak smile. You raise an eyebrow, before seeing a very giggly Gabe dancing in front of the TV behind Toby. You roll your eyes, it must be Dance Central time.

You step inside, an excited Griffin running around your feet. You pat him on the head before making your way to the couch, taking a seat. Griffin follows, still running in circles. Gabe pauses his dance and turns around, sipping from the cup of water on the side.

“Surprised you’re able to get out of bed with the state you were in last night.” He laughs, leaning against the table. Toby walks over to the couch, taking the seat next to you. You shake your head in disbelief that you were that bad. You glance over to Toby, who has a sheepish smile on his face. You shake it off.

“Give me some credit, I wasn’t at my worst.” You reply, making yourself comfortable. As of the last few months, Toby’s has been like your second home. You were here for the majority of the week, and it was much nicer than your apartment.

“You don’t remember anything?” Gabe asks, pulling off his head band and placing it beside him. You shrug, “I remember the odd thing, but not the majority.” You notice how Toby hasn’t said a word since you arrived. Out the corner of your eye you see him take of his head band and fiddle with it aimlessly. You turn your head to him, snapping your fingers. He jumps slightly, looking at you innocently.

“Earth to Tobias.” You say, smiling. He smiles back, rubbing his eyes. Gabe looks at you both cheekily, but you don’t notice.

“Well, I better be off.” He says, picking up his jacket and making his way to the door. You watch as he says his goodbyes to Toby, who has now stood up from the couch. You wave to Gabe as he opens the door, grinning as he leaves. Toby shuts the door behind him, slowly walking back to the couch, sitting beside you. You turn your whole body towards him, pulling your knees to your chest and the over sized hoodie over them.

“I’m so tired, I think I passed out for about 2 hours last night.” You laugh at yourself, whereas Toby only smiles slightly. You notice his gaze locked on Griffin, who is aimlessly walking around the living room. You raise an eyebrow again, poking him with your foot. “What’s up with you, grumpy?”

“Wha-, nothing’s wrong.” This is the first thing he’s said to you, and it doesn’t sound convincing. You cross your legs, moving closer to him. You grab his hand and turn him towards you.

“Hey, come on. It’s me, you know you can talk to me.” You give him a reassuring smile. You’ve never seen Toby so, shy. His eyes are locked in yours. You get slightly worried; is he going to tell you he doesn’t want to be friends anymore? You hide your worry, still holding onto his hand.

“We.. we kissed last night.” He doesn’t look at you as he says this, and your smile soon fades.

“That was you?” You say quietly, letting go of his hand. You try your hardest to get your head around this information. It had been him, not only your best friend, but the man you had a crush on. Shouldn’t you be feeling happy right now?

Toby nods, saying in a low voice, “I’m sorry.” You immediatly look up, and playfully punch him in the shoulder.

“Don’t be sorry, douche bag. It takes two to kiss.” You notice that he doesn’t smile or look up. You put a hand on the side of his face, turning his head towards yours. You lock eyes. You smile slightly, and when you see he returns it, your smile grows, as does his. You gently stroke the side of his head, not knowing where this is leading. Before your brain has any time to acknowledge what’s happening, you notice that the gap between you and Toby is getting smaller. He’s moving closer, and subconsciously, you are too. Your heart starts to beat faster, your thoughts racing in your mind. You close your eyes, prepared for the rush of adrenaline which is about to come. Your lips are barely touching before the door bell rings.

You’re both thrown back as the doorbell rings a second time. Toby mumbles inaudibly before getting up and rushing towards the door. You stare at the ground in shock, was that really about to happen? You grab your phone quickly, pretending to text as you hear a rushed voice.

“Sorry, left my phone.” Gabe rushed in, grabbing is phone off the table. He looks at you briefly, before rushing back to the door. You hear a distant “see you later” as the door closes. Toby turns around, leaning on the door. You can feel his glaze attached to you, but you don’t look up from your phone. How could you possibly confront him now?

It’s Toby this time who takes control, walking back over to the sofa. He sits back in his original seat, gently taking your phone, which you hadn’t looked up from yet, out of yours hands and settling it on the table. You slowly look up at him, not saying a word.

“Earth to [your name here]” He smiles goofily as you try to deny a smile, but fail. He puts his right hand on the side of your head, gently caressing his thumb over your cheek. Goosebumps cover your entire body at his touch. You suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to kiss him, but you don’t. You want to take it slow, to be lost in this moment for as long as possible, in this moment you have waited for for so long. The gap between you closes slowly, and you once again close your eyes, but this time you feel his soft lips touch yours.

You raise your hands and rest them on the back of Toby’s neck, before running one hand through his hair. He pulls you onto his lap, resting his hands on your hips. You rest one leg on either side of his, tracing your fingers through his hair, tugging gently. You open your mouth with a low moan, allowing his tongue to slide in.

You deepen the kiss, it becoming more heated with every passing second. You shiver as Toby’s cold hands run up the back of your hoodie. You pull it off, your shirt helpfully coming off with it. His lips eagerly move to your neck, as you tilt your head side wards. As he gently sucks on one spot, you tilt your head sideways. You tug at the bottom of his own-branded shirt, Toby breaking the kiss and pulling it off. He continues as he was, you running your fingers though his hair again. The sensation of your skin touching sends shivers around your whole body. You had sometimes dreamt of this moment, and now it was happening. And you couldn’t quite believe it.

A small band of sunshine seeped through the gap in the curtains. Your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the room. You try to stretch your legs out but your feet hit a hard clothed surface. You try to stretch out your arms but your fingers are intertwined with someone elses. It’s then you realise that you’re not lying on a hard surface, but a rising then deflating chest.

You smile to yourself, looking up slightly at a sleeping Toby. You realise you are still on the couch from last night. Last night. You rest your head down again, grinning. It all comes flooding back to you, the sweat, the passion, the love. It just felt so… right. And you both felt it.

You feel Toby move underneath you, wrapping his arms tighter around you. He doesn’t awake as you trace circles on his bare chest gently, listening to his gentle heart beat. You smile contently; you could stay here forever.

The silence is suddenly erupted when post comes through the front door, causing Griffin to bark loudly. You glance at the clock; 12:48. You go to sit up, but you’re immediately pulled back. You try one more time, but this time Toby’s arms are tighter around you and you can’t budge at all.

“Noooooooo.” He mumbles, his eyes still closed. You turn around with your chest on his, looking up at him. You lift your left hand, running your fingers through his hair again. A small smile tugs at his mouth and you laugh slightly when you see it. You continue to watch him, convinced he has fallen back asleep. You lay your head upon his chest again until you hear, “Hey?”

“Yeah?” You reply, looking up to meet Toby’s gaze.

“I love you.” You grin immediately, your eyes lighting up. Your lift your right hand to the side of his face and reply, “I love you too.”

You both laugh slightly, Toby rolling you onto your back, placing his lips gently on yours.

Ask Me To Stay - part four.

sendinthesun — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 12:31:08 -0500

Toby.

Thursday again.

Time passes when you’re having fun.

The only thing I’ve been able to think about is the day the stranger walked into my room. I sigh and try to forget. Mother has just left. More nonsense about me being able to survive. More updates on the family who never come visit me. More bullshit that, in all fairness, I’ve given up listening to.

I close my eyes, just as footsteps are in ears range. Maybe it’s the stranger…

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I mutter to myself. “She’s a stranger. You won’t ever see her again.”

Oh how wrong I am.

Because there she is, standing in the doorway. Again. I can’t help but be frustrated with her. She’s staring at me blankly, with a shred of pity in her eyes. I stare back, knowing well it’s going to make her uncomfortable.

“Hi,” she surprises me by talking first.

“Hello.”

“You… you mind if I come and sit?” she nods her head to the chair beside my bed.

I consider telling her that no, she can’t sit down; she can go away and never come back. She can go live her life freely and not be stuck within this white walls. Once again, I envy her. But curiosity over takes more other emotions, and I wonder of her intentions.

“I suppose so,” I sigh.

She walks over at a slow pace and lowers herself into the chair. She doesn’t look at me. Instead she stares at her hands.

My head hurts. It’s making me sick. I don’t want her to be here, not anymore.

She smiles before I can tell her to leave. “I’m Dakotah.”

“Hello,” I say again. I fight all my urges to scream for her to leave. She’s making me uncomfortable.

“What’s your name?” She almost sounds patronizing. It makes me sick.

I sigh. “Toby.”

“Oh.”

I grit my teeth and tilt my head to one side as to look at her. Her brunette hair falls gently to just below her shoulders, and sits in what looks like natural curls. Her face is sharp and distinctive. Her eyes are huge and the colour of sapphires, though this is outlined with a greenish colour. Quite beautiful.

“So… so…” she struggles to find words. Good. “So why… why are you here?”

“Because I am ill.”

“How?”

“Something is damaging my system.”

“What?”

“Enough to do serious harm.”

She raises an eyebrow slightly, as if to say she knows what I’m doing. And rightly so. She’s just being nosy, and I’m having a bit of fun with it.

I sigh. “I have chronic lymphocytis leukemia.”

“Oh.”

There it is again. She looks down at her hands once more.

“How long have you been here?”

“Six months.”

“How long are you expected to be here?”

“I have a year and a half left.”

She looks up. “Before you get better?”

“Before I die.”

Okay, I deleted the last post. If you saw it, I’ve closed submissions for now. I have 4 one...

sendinthesun — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 16:07:33 -0500

Okay, I deleted the last post. If you saw it, I’ve closed submissions for now.

I have 4 one shots to write, so once they’re done, I can do some more!

:) <3

Ask Me To Stay - part three.

sendinthesun — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 12:32:58 -0500

Dakotah.

I feel myself walking away before I can even stop myself. I feel my hands shaking as I push open the door of the hospital exit and feel the comfort of the outside wind wrap around me. I shake my head violently. To passers by it would appear I was sweeping my brunette bangs out my face. But I knew better than that.

It was to try and disperse the sight of his hollow dark eyes, looking at me enviously, his translucent pale skin as he watched me, struggling to even swallow the lump in his throat. I cross the street absent-mindedly, ignoring the oncoming traffic, which beeps repeatedly.

I breathe out sharply, storming my way past people on the high street. Ignoring my bumps into people, failing to apologize.

What are you staring at?

His words burn in my mind as I bite down on my lip in frustration. Much to my dislike, I couldn’t shake his image or presence out my mind. How ill he looked, how his brown curls on his head had surpassed to wire.

I had simply visited my sister. We discussed her day, her eating habits, the next steps in her rehabiliation. Then I left, as I usually do, and was confronted by the most terrifying sight I had ever seen.

Helpless and abandoned.

Beautiful and insiginifant.

Shameless and exhausted.

His image stayed with me for the rest of the evening.

~~~

Toby.

It’s late.

The clock ticks irritatingly as I look up, and it tells me it is close to midnight, yet here I am lying wide awake, unwilling to close my eyes. Dr. Andrews tells me I need to sleep early, yet I hold onto that rebellious feeling.

I lie on my back and stare at the white paint on the ceiling. I close my eyes, and tell myself now that I am going to confront Dr. Andrews about how I’m feeling.

That is what I told myself I’d do yesterday.

And the day before.

Before I can think more about it, my eyes are closing steadily as I slide into sleep.

“How are you today, Toby?”

I look up at Dr. Andrews and don’t reply.

He nods. “Thought so,” he tells me. “So, the usual, eh? Any pains, cramps, nausea?”

I open my mouth to tell him, to tell him that every day I am suffering with those symptoms and they never leave. “No.”

He asks me the other questions, smiles widely, before turning and leaving. He’s not even out the before he turns on his heel, and I watch as his smile slides like honey dropping from a spoon. He walks slowly back to me.

“Listen, Toby,” he says, sitting down back where his once was. “I know this… this is hard for you. But what you need to realize is that if you don’t tell me the truth, we can’t make you better.”

I let out the breath I was unconsciously holding, and look down at the white sheets. I feel my eyes fill with water, but I look away.

“Any pains, cramps or nausea?”

I nod. “Head, foot, stomach, never leaves.” I say in a tiny voice.

“Any trouble sleeping?”

“Quite often I can’t sleep until early morning.”

“Any needs, wants, desires?”

This one, I look at him steadily. “No.”

He nods and smiles, and this time his smile seems genuine. “Good man,” he says. “I’m proud of you. And, just so you know, sometimes pain is just that. Pain.”

He stands up and leaves me, as I replay what had just happened in my mind.

Yes, doctor, I do have needs, wants and desires.

I need to know who that stranger was.

I want to know her name.

I desire to see her just one more.

Please.

Do you do requests?

Sat, 14 Jan 2012 10:25:18 -0500

Sure! It might take a while until I get around to writing it, but I definately take ideas on board :)

Ask Me To Stay - part two.

sendinthesun — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 14:35:21 -0500

‘Toby, are you awake?’

I want to lie and pretend I’m asleep, but I can’t quite produce the courage.

‘Yes,’ I say. I sit up. Dr. Andrews is sitting in the seat which once was occupied by my mother, holding a clipboard. He’s a tall, thin man, with brown hair and a large chin.

‘How’ve you been holding up?’ he asks.

I shrug. ‘Alright.’

‘Any pains, cramps or nausea?’

‘No.’

‘Any trouble with sleeping?’

‘No.’

‘Any needs, wants, desires?’

‘No.’

He slaps my back. ‘Good man. You try and get some sleep.’

I lie back down on the pillows and wait until he’s gone, before I let out a long stream of curses under my breath. I lied. I lied to him. All three questions he asked, and I lied.

I’m afraid of what the answers would mean.

Yes, Doctor, I do have pains, cramps and nausea. I feel constantly ill and as if I’m going to throw up, my stomach is kicking up a storm and my foot won’t stop hurting.

Yes, Doctor, I do have trouble with sleeping. I can’t do it. In the past month, I’ve probably had about three continuous hours of sleep.

Yes, Doctor, I do have needs, wants and desires. I need to get out of here. I want to be better. I desire for this stupid disease to just go away and never come back.

But I can’t tell him that.

I sigh and pick up Wuthering Heights, opening it at a random page.

Terror made me cruel; and finding it useless to attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to and fro till the blood ran down and soaked the bedclothes…

I snap the book shut. I can feel someone looking at me.

I look up slowly. There is a woman standing in the doorway. I realize she isn’t a doctor. She is just a girl, coming to visit someone else in the hospital. Maybe she got lost and ended up in my room. How I envy her.

I push Wuthering Heights to the side and force a smile.

‘Can I help you?’ I say in a level voice.

She shakes her head. She stands there for a while longer, until eventually I can’t take it anymore.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ I burst out furiously.

She shrugs. ‘I… I don’t know. Sorry.’

‘Well go.’ I say angrily. I flop back onto my right hand side so as to look away from her, and close my eyes as I listen to her feet patter away.

Why can’t I just die?

Ask Me To Stay - part one.

sendinthesun — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 14:27:12 -0500

The clock ticks repeatedly as I tap my shoes against the white laminate flooring.

My name is Dakotah Perri. I am twenty-two years old.

I feel as though I’m dying.

My throat tightens as the machines beep down the long corridors, and hush voices are heard in separate rooms.

I hate hospitals. The very smell of them, the way they feel, the way the make me feel send shivers all over me.

I run my fingers through my hair and place it up in a messy bun. I try to calm my unknown nerves. It’s not possible, not while I feel this uncomfortable.

Most days, me coming here is pointless, yet I still do so. I take my only day off from the bookshop on the high street where I work to come and visit my sister.

I can’t help but feel physically sick as I look around. People waiting around me, arms in slings, coughs spurting from their lips. Various unknown diseases or bugs filtering through the air towards me, making me vulnerable. Vulnerable to catch whatever lives in this god forsaken place.

I’ve been visiting my sister for the last two weeks now.

She has been suffering Anorexia Nervosa. Anorexia Nervosa is a psychiatric illness that describes an eating disorder with extremely low body weight and body image distortion with an obsessive fear of gaining.

Or so the experts say.

But they mention nothing about the high blood pressure, constant irregular sleeping patterns, oh, and the depression.

No, you have to figure that out yourself.

She was sent here three weeks ago, as ordered by her doctors. Now she’s on a drip, being force-fed by a bunch of strangers. The thought makes me shudder, and I can’t help but feel sympathetic towards her.

I wait until 5 o’clock to see her.

~~~~

Laying awake in bed is what I do best.

Not to say I like it, of course. I’d much rather be at home with Griffin, playing xbox or doing something else counter-productive. But I suppose it’s better than watching teen moms on TV, or rereading the predictable period romance novel which has been on my bedside table since I was brought here, beside the flowers that my mother restocks every week. The book is Wuthering Heights; the flower have already wilted.

I let out a sigh and run a hand through my hair. It feels coarse and brittle and I don’t like it. Yet I don’t want it to fall out.

I’m afraid.

My mother is supposedly visiting soon. A few minutes within her stay, and the dead flowers by my side will be replace with new ones, alive and well. She’ll hold my hand, and I will be told that the doctors are once again relieved and astounded by my improvements.

I think she’s lying to herself more than she is to me.

The noise of the clock fustrates me. I’d get up and take the batteries out myself if it wasn’t for the fact I am bed bound.

I look over to the window towards the end of the ward. It’s getting dark outside, she should be here by now. It’s the only thing I have to look forward to, to see her face, the fake smile she’ll plaster on and keep for the whole time she’s here. Sometimes I think she’s a better actor than I am.

“Hello, love.” she says, sitting down on the vacant chair beside the bed. “Sorry I’m late, there was a massive traffic jam and I couldn’t get past some old blode in a three-wheeler.”

I force a smile. “It’s fine,” I tell her.

She walks to the other side of the bed, pulls the dead flowers from their vase and drops them in the sanitary bin. Before you could blink your eyes, they are replaced by new ones.

“The doctors say you’re getting better,” she informs me, her hand resting on top of mine. “They say you might make it.”

I say nothing, just nod.

I reach out to take the Wuthering Heights from the table. I shock myself slightly when I see my hand. My skin is white, pale white, almost translucent. My fingers are long and thing and spidery. Nevertheless, I take the book. It’s battered and quite old, and looks as if my mother’s had it since she was small. I hand it to her.

“Have… have you finished it already?” she asks. She looks up at my with her dull eyes, and suddenly I feel as if I’m going to break down and cry.

I shake my head. “I just thought you wanted it back.” I say in a tiny voice.

She shakes her own head, pushing it back into my lap. “Here. You read it. God knows it’s better than sitting here all day doing nothing.”

I give her a genuine smile.

“Anyway sweet heart, you should get some rest.” She says, leaning forward and planting a kiss on my head. “I love you, Toby.”

“Love you too, mom.” I reply, turning onto my side and closing my eyes, slowly drifting into sleep.