The C r u s h ❤ Paper | open to critique!

[water-witch]

Welcome to my story...

"First, I could say it was all my fault...but that wouldn't be quite right. Elana was actually the one who started it all. Yes, now that I think about it, she was the one who wrote the Crush Paper. The second one, at least. But I had a lot to do with it. So if you'll just shut up and listen, I'll spill my guts about everything."

Cece Harris has just moved to the small town of Lavender Hills, Maine. She leads a normal life and does normal things...until the Crush Paper pops up at school as a note to the popular Elana Jacobs, telling her exactly who likes who in their small 6th-grade class. But since the boy who wrote it didn't know who Cece liked, Elana decides to make one with everyone's crushes on it. But when it goes to far, and is put up to be bought, will a teacher find out?

I will add to this story as much and as often as I can. Don't get mad if I don't do it regularly, I have school and homework!
Do not steal my characters D: You can use the images, they're from google.
Story begins in the next post!

Look for quote boxes on this page! Every time I add a quote box, I'll introduce a new character! The quote box will have a a pica and description of the character. The boxes are usually near the bottom of the page!

Cece Harris.
Cece Harris is not happy about moving. She had friends in Chicago. She was popular in Chicago. She liked Chicago. She liked her house in Chicago. Why should she move? Well, her mother's company moved her to Lavender Hills. So she has to deal with it.

[water-witch]

p r o l o u g e ❤

First, I could say it was all my fault...but that wouldn't be quite right. Elana was actually the one who started it all. Yes, now that I think about it, she was the one who wrote the Crush Paper. The second one, at least. But I had a lot to do with it. So if you'll just shut up and listen, I'll spill my guts about everything.

c h a p t e r . o n e ❤
moving day

I sit quietly in the car as it thumps along the road. Thumpity. Thumpity. Mom reaches for the radio knob and suddenly Christmas music fills the car. I sigh loudly. "Mom, you can't make me like moving, no matter how hard you try." Mom put on a sad face. "Aw, c'mon, Cece! It'll be fun!" I roll my eyes. 'Fun' is apparently the grown-up word for 'excruciatingly, painfully boring'. I look out the window at the countryside rolling past, farm after farm, corn field after corn field, the same sights. Why did we ever leave Chicago?

[Roonil Wazlib]

Hey, Maine isn't that bad xD
Never mind. It's really boring.

I really like your story so far! It sounds interesting! Good job :D

[water-witch]

You live there? Awesome! I've been and I loved it, especially Boothbay Harbor. And thanks!

[Fichester]

This already sounds good (and realistic for a fiction story). I can easily imagine having this happen at my school...it would kill me. ;_; Can't wait!

[water-witch]

Thank you ^^ It actually did happen at my school, and everyone told me to write what I know, so I did! Chapter one continuation coming right up~

[benexo]

bookmarking this! sounds great c: can't believe that actually happened at your school! sheesh!

[water-witch]

I couldn't believe it either. * shakes head slowly * My classmates are just that immature. Only they could do it.
To those waiting...chapter one is continued!

I start to nod off, my eyes closing with every thump the car makes. Thump. Thump. Suddenly, the car stops and my door clicks open. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and look around. The house wasn't that bad really. It was nice. I wait for mom to open the door then race upstairs, calling down: "I call the attic!" And I get it. I push the door open with a feeling of unease, and I was right to. The attic is a mess, with cobwebs and dust on every service. I hear mom come up materialize behind me, and she pokes her head inside the door, too. "Oh, dear." she says, though I can see a grin tugging at her mouth. "Guess you'll have to clean up." She goes downstairs, coming back up a moment later with a vacuum, feather duster, and mop. "Happy cleaning!" she says brightly, handing all of it to me and racing back downstairs. I sigh and look back at the room. I flick on the light and stride toward the window, shoving it to get it open. Sunlight steams through, and dust falls all over. I plug in the vacuum and start, knowing that this is going to be the only easy part of cleaning up the mess that is now my bedroom.

[{artistic}]

Bookmarking!

[INK.]

bookmarking!