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The Birth Of Destruction: 5

Weekend following the Lock-In

Caleb asked for my phone number before we left the school. I gave him my moms number because I didn’t have my own phone, I unlike other teenagers, wasn’t aloud to have one.

We talked a lot that weekend and I learned a lot more about him. He was on probation until a year after he was to graduate high school. Truthfully, now after so many years, the reason why is hazy to me. It might have been because he’d threatened to kill a cop, or another kid (he’d later done both again, including threatening the life of a teacher).

At the end of the weekend, I was getting nervous with anticipation of seeing him on Monday morning. I wondered if he’d act different than he’d done at the Lock-In. He called me Sunday night and that conversation will always stick in my mind.

“Hi, what did you do today?” I answered.

“It was ok,” He replied. “What did you do?”

We made small talk for a while then had a few moments of silence.

“Hey,” He began. “I wanna tell you something but don’t want you to think I’m a dick.”

I laughed and told him it was very hard to make me mad.

“I don’t want to go out with you,” He began. “Seriously, I don’t know how anyone ever could. You’re ugly and not my type at all.”

“So then why did you act like that the other night?” I asked after a minute of my shocked silence.

“Because you seemed so desperate. I bet you’d go out with anyone who’d express interest in you. That’s how ugly girls are. I only acted interested because I wanted to make myself feel better.”

“Wow, good job,” I hung up and refused to answer when he called back. He kept calling so I started to pick up and hang up. Then I gave the phone to my mom and she told him I wasn’t feeling well.

I didn’t cry, but I did feel numb. I knew I wasn’t beautiful, but I’d hoped I wasn’t ugly either. I didn’t wear make up and I hid inside hoodies all the time. But he had no right to try and tear me down the way he did. I decided to ignore him at school from now on, and only be civil enough when needed.

My friends knew we’d gotten together at the Lock-In but none knew how he’d degraded me 2 days later. We just told them we decided to stay friends instead. I never told anyone about that phone conversation.


Fifth chapter of a true story by Bree Houseman on figment.com.




The Birth Of Destruction: 2

The rest of Freshman Year

The rest of the year was a blur of firsts. First homecoming, where my middle school boyfriend asked me back out, first detention, for what I can’t recall, and first rejection by a boy I liked.

Connor started hanging around us more and more, usually dragging Caleb with him. He began making the rounds on my friends, hitting on them and turning them against each other, until they realized how stupid they were being. It felt like I was the only one immune to his charms. Secretly however, I liked him too but my self esteem was low so I never allowed myself to think anything other than he was just being nice when he’d flirt.

Monica claimed to be in love with Connor, and joined me in my slight crush on Caleb. My crush however was more so the need to give him something in his life to look forward to, and to help him get out of the trouble that seemed to follow him around. He was always getting in trouble with teachers, gaining a lot of detentions and suspensions.

Jenna and Melanie were constantly fighting over Connor, only to make up and ignore him for a few days before they fell back into the same routine. Jenna used more restraint towards him than Melanie ever showed around any guy. Of all of us, she was the only one with sexual experience at that time, and guys had actually deemed her easy. She always had dates, while Jenna and I still had girl nights at each others houses, very rarely even catching a guys attention.

Gabe was a different story however. He and Jenna dated in middle school, until he met Melanie, then he broke up with Jenna for her. From then on, he kept back and fourth between the two, claiming to love them both, and me as well, but I think that was more so because we’d known each other since we were in diapers, and our parents grew up together too. To be honest, he disgusted me, and still does, with his insane claims of love when he barely knows a girl, not to mention hes as sexist and racist as they come.

Connor and Caleb had a few other girl friends that we gradually came to like as the year went on, Natalie and Tonya. Tonya immediately hated Jenna and I, but ironically liked Melanie. It was weird because Melanie was the one who was sleeping with Connor, Jenna just had a crush on him and I was nothing more than a friend. Connor was always cheating on Tonya with Melanie and vice versa. Towards the end of the year however, we got on the same page and really became friends.

Natalie was an ex girlfriend of both Connor and Caleb. She claimed to hate them both but yet she stuck around with us. She never seemed to want to talk about her relationship with Caleb, and thinking back, I think if she would have talked about it then, it would have saved me a whole lot of heartache and bruises. It was almost as if she were afraid of him.

I don’t remember much else of that first year. My middle school boyfriend and his family moved away and we gradually lost contact. I didn’t think I’d miss him as much as I did. When I found him later on Facebook, he never wanted to talk to me much, and it hurts me to think that it may be my own fault. I talk to his brother more than him, and even that is very selected.

My English teacher of that year helped shape my love for Romeo and Juliet, as well as other classics. He reviled to the class one day that teaching was not his first choice, that he had originally set out for Hollywood to become an actor. Then he’d met his fiance and his plans changed. It was his influence that made me think that maybe I could write and be published some day. A dream that, years later, I realized is very rare, if not impossible for people who don’t have money to put into it.

The Choir teacher also helped me a lot. He allowed me an escape through singing. He was new to the school just as we were, so it was almost like we grew up those 4 years together. Towards our graduation, he teared up and told us he felt he should retire and graduate with us. We got on his nerves a lot and hassled him pretty much every day so it meant a lot that he actually liked us.

Of all the rest of the teachers I had through high school, I’d have to say those 2 helped me the most through the next 3 years I was to go through.

Second chapter of a true story by Bree Houseman.

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The Birth Of Destruction: 1

First day of Freshman Year

Anyone’s first day back to school is going to be exciting and terrifying. You’ll wonder what friends you’ll meet, what your teachers will be like and who might have changed, for better or worse. You obsess over what you’ll wear and where you’ll sit at lunch.

But honestly, the first day is one of the worst. It’s so drawn out and it’s nothing but teachers syllabus and rules. I always hated it.

But it was high school. The group of friends I had all dreamed of older boyfriends who’d whisk us away from our parents, who all of us hated in one way or another. Especially me. I thought my parents were out to get me, as most teenagers diagnosed with depression will think at that age.  And I guess I also inherited anger issues from my dad, though I’ve never acted on them, I hate confrontations of any kind, always have, always will.

My parents weren’t divorced yet so I got on the bus the same place, at the same time I had been for the past 3 years. It was just going to a different place. My dad and uncle had gone to the same school years before so I was curious to see how many teachers would be asking me if I were related to him. A good bit did, but the rest were young.

So anyways, the bus got there and I found my friends where we promised to meet. This place would end up being our meet up spot until Senior year. As good of friends as we all were, really the only one I talked to over summer break was my best friend, Jenna, and that was only on occasion. I had a very sheltered childhood, the first time someone mentioned Eminem to me in 6th grade, I thought they were talking about the candy. I grew up on Aerosmith, Bon Jovi and country music, nothing else existed. Plus, growing up in bum fuck nowhere probably added to my being sheltered.

Anyways, we caught up a little and headed to our homerooms. My friend Melanie and I were in the same one, as were Jenna and Gabe. We got our schedules and were welcomed to the school and told to have a good first day.

I honestly couldn’t tell  you when I had what classes that year, I just remember two of my favorites, English and Choir practice, and my least favorite, Family Life Science.

At lunch that first day, I sat with a group of middle school friends, and a few upperclassmen I only later knew the names of. There was, me, Jenna, Laura, a girl names Monica they went to elementary school with, and Ann and Zeke were the upperclassmen we met.

Monica in turn, introduced us to a junior named Connor she knew from where she lived, and he  introduced his friends Caleb, Mark and Ryker. I was immediately drawn to Caleb. There was just something about him that shouted out bad boy to me. Not the leather jacket and motorcycle kind of bad boy, more like the been-through-more-than-you-can-ever-dream-of type. But I was shy so I said nothing but Hi.

Right after lunch, Monica and I had Family Life Science together so we headed upstairs. She told me a bit more of herself and we were great friends before we even made it to the classroom. She told me more about Connor and Caleb without my even having to ask. Connor was something of a man whore, he’d slept with more girls that she could even count. Caleb was his troubled friend. He’d been in and out of therapy for years and even spent some time in Philhaven, a mental and behavioral health facility for people with depression, anger, anxiety, etc issues.  He was also on probation for some reason that was unknown to her. I’d learn plenty on my own, but not for another year.

That’s pretty much how it went. We didn’t talk again for another year.

This is the first chapter of a true story, by Bree Houseman, on figment.com.


Toxic Covered Beauty. Please Comment!

(A poem by Laura on figment.com)  http://figment.com/users/360202-Laura-

Feedback?  Please?  :3  We need feedback!

Toxic Covered Beauty

“We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges.”
-Gene Wolfe

You’re a venomous rose
Toxic covered beauty
Thorns dripping with acid
Your poison flows
With continuity
You’re a deadly assassin
Awaiting a new victim
Drawing one in
With your fatal allure
Unaware of your system
The reason they flinch
Is because of your lethal grandeur
Your sickly sweet scent
Is a noxious fume
From vivid lackluster pedals
That are pleasurably abhorrent
Unsuspecting is your victim that you are their doom
That you are a malevolent devil
Your acidic barbs constrict with formidable might
In your captive’s veins the venom will seep
Soon they will lose the will to fight
Then you will notice they can no longer weep
For your toxic covered beauty
Has lured them to sleep


Again, please comment your reactions. 

Thanks so much for reading this.

~Mouse and Laura

Who, What, and An Answer?

Who are you,

If you do not know?

What are you,

If you do not know?

Who are you,

If you do know?

What are you,

If you know?

The answer is simple,

Just five little words.

Should the answer to these questions be shared?


But knowing brings a great amount of power…

And responsibility…

You believe you can handle it?


I shall reveal the answer to What or Who you are, if you know or not.

Five little words, are you sure you can’t guess it?

It’s simple…

And so I’ll tell you.

You are…

Anything you want to be!



Day 00005193694221

Day 00005193694221

I walk.  Nothing moving.  Nothing breathing.  I walk.  I turn back. The sun is burning. I walk.  Crispy peeling skin.  Burnt. Wincing.  I clean the wounds. Another day. Another hour.  Used to have friends, before this.  I am the automaton.  But not robotic.  Night falling.  Stars appear.  No, not stars.  Burning.  Dying.  Explosions.  Why????? Can’t…………Function.  Count.  How many worlds have you destroyed?  How could you?  This little voice inside my mind.  Tears me apart.  It cuts me to think.  How many worlds have you destroyed? One…  Two…  Three…  Ten billion…  Ten billion and one… Twelve hundred trillion… Who? So many… I had to. Why? No right answer. I try not to remember. But only regret.  Can’t forget. Killing me softly. But I’ll just come right back to life. This is my punishment?!  …I had to… Skin tears and rips. I shred my body into pieces. I just come back with a new form.  Right there.  Golden light surrounds me.  Can it be?  No.  I’m back, again.  Hundreds and hundreds of years.  Final.  End.  End it all. I walk out of my shelter. The moon is bright with sorrow.  I run.  The air tears my eyes.  I am so exhausted.  But I don’t stop running away.  I’m killing myself so many times.  Nothing stops……



(You could put this in the context of Doctor Who…)

(I’m sorry…  I’m so sorry…)



I run through the newly fallen snow.

My heart beats heavy in my chest.

I hear a loud thump.  Freeze.  Don’t even breathe.

The cold air is sharp in my lungs.

The forest is still.

I take a risk.  Move.  Turn my head.

It was only the snow from the branches of a tree.

Run.  Faster.  Exhaustion soon.

Lights in the distance.  Village.

I’m not going to be caught.  Turn.

Begin to run.  Wait.

I left it there.

I run back.  Move snow.  Eventually, move dirt.

Dig…  Quickly.  I hear them.

Silently making their ways through.

I am the Wolf.


Today is the first snow.  I was compelled by it to write.