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Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Hahvoc The Decepticon

Hahvoc The Decepticon

Singularity
Joined
Mar 4, 2009
Okay, well...First off, I felt like sharing this with you, this secret with just you and you alone. It might not be much of a secret, but for you, it could be a multitude of things. It could mean as much to you as say, your grandest memory, or be as meaningless as the worst day in the park. In the scheme of things, this might be a production. There will be an introduction, chapters with dialogue and purpose, and then, sadly or gratefully, it will come to an end. But of course, like every screen play, movie, and exciting novel, there is a fantastic peak! Climax that reaches down inside and steals your breath like no other in the world and then you dip down into the finale, the final blow! Before you settle and breathe and are alone with your thoughts. Perhaps those thoughts will be of wonder, of awe and delight. Or maybe they will be of disdain and rejection, denial and ridicule. No pity shall come from you, none at all. Keep that in mind.

On with the show!​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

A little Hahvoc was born

Now, be patient with me. You might not want to hear this because of how fluffy and cutesy it could turn out to be, but bear with me. I do not recall my birth as most people don't, but if I try hard enough, I have this flash of grasping hands and little cries being pulled from me. I wanted out and I wasn't going to stop my incessant wailing until I was free. At least, that is what my mother told me when I inquired about how I was born. My mother had to have C-section to keep me alive, being a miracle in general she conceived me to begin with. As the doctors set about their work that they had done countless times, they paused and listened. The beeps of the machines couldn't drown out my cries for freedom, or needing fresh air. I guess I was done with whole 'womb' business and wanted my slice of independence. I cried and cried whilst inside the cradle of protection that had kept me safe and living for a little under nine months. And then, just like that, I was free! My cries stopped the moment light hit my eyes, my mother had me with a smile and light laugh. So, unlike most people, I didn't come crying and screaming into this world while naked! Oh, no! I was happy to be naked and alive outside that dark sanctuary! If I had had the conscious I have now, in that younger form of me, I probably would have bitched at someone to stop staring like a pedophile and clothe me.

Well, my demands were met even if I had no idea what they were and I was safely tucked in a blanket and held against my mother with toothless smiles. Honestly, I was probably the happiest little drool monster. But it wasn't all sunshine and rays. Because of me and yet not because of me, my mother was no longer able to bear any more children. When I think back on it, I sometimes wonder- what might have happened to my mother if she had never had me? Or if I hadn't been able to live? When I spoke to my mother, she gave me this assuring smile that since I was here now, I shouldn't think like that. But I know she thought about it, too. Her doctor had been against me being conceived, but she had gotten pregnant and was fine, so that little misstep was over and done with. I was living and breathing and happy to be all snuggly-snuggly with my mother and her life-giving breasts. That's right, I went there.

During the next three years after I was born, my mother started to get sick and my father and mother got a divorce. I don't remember much of it, but by age four I had a clue. Daddy kept going away a lot because of the army and he wasn't allowed to be alone with Mommy. I was a daddy's girl and a mommy's rebel when I was little. I'm still a rebel, hell yeah, but Daddy's little princess? No longer.

I'm probably one of the few kids who can boast that the first time they got grounded was age four. And for a week, no less. I wasn't allowed to leave the yard and my dog, Ginger, was trained to bark whenever I left the yard. I still wonder how it only ever happened to me! And no matter how many times I begged the bloody traitor to keep his trap shut, I was always caught. I still wonder how my grandfather taught him that. I'm rather curious to know.

Back on topic!

My parents went through a rather rough divorce and I was told tidbits of stories of how I told my dad to sod off, more or less in kiddy language, because he made my mother cry. I took the phone from my Nana, and yelled at him, "I am never living with you! You made my mommy cry!" And hung up on him. Score one for little me. My nana said she had never been so shocked in all her life. And thought it was still funny as hell. Like the time I had decided I would be addressed as Sparkles instead of my actual name. I still have no idea why! And if you call me it, I will eat you.

But it wasn't all laughs and sunshine, as I said before.

I still remember when Daddy said we were going to see Mommy in the hospital. I didn't know why she was there. He said she was really sick but wanted to see us. My dad was a rather manipulative and abusing bastard when we were young. What he hadn't told us was that my mom was very, VERY ill and had staples in her stomach because she had had to get her uterus removed lest she die. I was probably almost five or so and it's one of the only memories I had during that time of my life.

The halls had been white and pristine, the people were pretty even when they looked ill. To me, people were beautiful in their own ways and everyone was a good person because I could make them smile or laugh. I always loved making people happy, even when I was little. I had wanted to run down the halls, my coat feeling too tight and crowded when inside the place. My hair flew into my face when I started to walk faster, my brother tagging along, trying to keep me in his sights. My dad told us to slow down, but I would have none of that. He told us what room it was, and even I knew my numbers by then. I saw it and ran into the room only to stop. I still remember how she looked, so tiny and fragile on that hospital bed. From my fragile point of view, I thought my mother was going to die. I recall the light beep of a machine and the way she breathed so lightly, with a little rasp to her voice. She had tried to sit up and smile, but only able to smile at us before she looked to my father like she was going to murder him. I went to her side and took her hand. All I remember after that is that someone was stroking my hair and I was crying. Whether it was my brother, my mother, or my Nana, I don't remember. My dad was getting reamed by either my mom, John--who later became my stepfather--or the nurse.

Overall, hospital visits and doctors, especially male doctors, make me nervous.​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

A Young Life...

After my initial bout with the hospital, my mother eventually returned home and we had to be careful when we hugged her for awhile. John started visiting more and more and my uncle eventually moved out to marry his evil wife. I proclaimed her evil because he was MY Uncle Neil, and she was stealing him away from me. He was my replacement father figure as I became accustomed to John showing up. Now, Daddy darling hadn't disappeared completely, but it was a headfuck in the making every time my brother and I visited him on the weekends. "Mommy doesn't love you," He would say to us so we would stay with him. I knew better, but my brother...lets just say he had many anger problems growing up because of him and his girlfriend at the time, Amanda. Amanda was basically my best friend, but recently, I found out she had abused my brother mentally, which is some of the reason why he stays clear of women and has never been on a date. Freud would be pleased to delve into his mental processes on that one.

My dad used to get very angry at us...and he was always in the process of drinking when he got angry. When you're little and you want the bad wolf to go away, you try to stand your ground and puff out your chest like you're bigger than you are so you'll scare him away. And when that doesn't work, you start crying and crying, trying to get him to stop yelling and saying hurtful things about mommy and how ungrateful you are and how much he really cares. I hate it when people argue. I hate yelling. And my automatic response to people yelling whether at me or around me is to attempt to calm them down before the tears start. It usually occurs among just my family members, but my flight response immediately kicks in along with the "Curl up in a ball far away. They won't find you if you do."

My dad was very nit-picky with what he wanted from me. He never physically or sexually abused me, but the emotional and mental trauma more than made up for it. "Why are you wearing that?" "Dresses are for girls, not what Mommy lets you wear." "If you start crying, you better have a reason or I'll give you one." I know there were other things, but my mind blocked out most of the other stuff. Basically, my father decided I should be thin, frilly, girly, and a total Daddy's Girl. I should love pink and dressing up and going to parties with his side of the family, much as they despised me. He had mapped out what he wanted me to be, and every time I did something he didn't approve of, I paid for it with 'witty' comments and hints that he didn't like me. Oh, my Dad loved me, he just basically hated what I was. I wasn't the image he wanted me to fit.

I never thought my dad lied to me. I was a very naive child and didn't think he could lie, so when he said something must be wrong with me or what I was wearing, I believed it as much as it hurt me. I wanted Daddy's approval more than anything. But nothing I did was good enough. And then I started getting back at him without knowing what I was doing.

The first real instance of a "SHUT THE FUCK UP" pwn moment was when I was eight or so and playing soccer. My dad was being a douche, like normal. Telling me to "run faster," "get the ball," "keep them out of the zone," as was usual. Well, I had had enough. My mother told me this story and I almost regret not being able to remember it. I had been running, chasing down the ball when my father said something that just was the final straw. I stopped for probably two seconds, turned my face and gave him the meanest, most dirty look that said every kind of swear in the book and then some before going back to the game. My mother recalled that the men that were standing around her actually leaned and took a step back as if they had gotten slapped. My father had promptly shut the fuck up and went to the other end of the field so I could play my game in peace.

But things...things happened that I am unsure of whether I can disclose. It's burden, a hardship. And as my friend told me, my dear friend said to me, "you aren't tainted." And I still don't know if I can believe it. Like all girls my age, I was curious about my body and what I could do to it. Masturbation has always been in some part of my life, so that isn't something hard for me to talk about and I dunno when I started that, but it was probably around nine years old. But, meh, that's just how it is. But how this other part came about....I am unsure. It happened only for a few times, and due to my age of ten, I figured that it never really happened, that if I put it out of my mind and stayed quiet, it would just go away like a lot of my memories. And I guess, to make it easier, it shall be put into a different perspective.

Hahvy didn't expect these things from him. He was only two years older, still a child like her. And related by blood, no less, living two houses away. But still, it didn't stop him as he pushed her onto her bed and started playing with her small, prepubescent breasts. But he did more than that and she didn't know how to stop him. The sensations through her body were scary and yet...strangely pleasing, the mixture paralyzing her from resisting. He took off her pants and used his mouth on her and she couldn't tell him no even when she knew it was wrong and he shouldn't be touching her like that. Inside, she cried as he played with her little body before stopping and leaving her to put her clothes back on. He didn't take her virgin body, but she was still tainted, impure, ruined somehow. But she pretended nothing happened because she didn't want to tell her mother what had happened, or split the family apart by saying those things. She didn't want someone talking to her about it and asking where he touched and how. She didn't want any of that. When he came to her again, he easily took her back onto her bed and did the same thing again and she almost said no, the word was on her lips, but apparently her tortured expression made him want to touch her more and accept what he was doing. She squirmed and tried to get away and only the knock of her brother's hand on the door saved what little sanity she had that day. He escaped out the window and then went back into the house through the door to hang out with her brother like nothing had happened. Hahvy knew what to do. She put on her clothes and her mask and acted like nothing had happened. But the fourthe time was the last time...she couldn't handle it again. She wanted it to stop. And she did. She kicked at his shoulders and said no, almost screamed it and he never bothered her again after all. Never looked at her or tried to get her alone. He gave her distance and became involved in school and started dating girls while Hahvy adjusted to life at school where people wore facades of care when they secretly plotted her tears...

The worst was over I would say, for Hahvy. But it wasn't. ​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

And yes, my older brother. He's awesome but a pain in the ass.

And after each post chapter, there is room for discussion or comments or whatever.​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

The Truth Destroys

As I said before, I was a naive child and thought with all my heart that people were good and that if someone did something mean, I must of done something to deserve it. Boys didn't like me and girls were worse in their hate. I don't know why they didn't like me, I still don't. My friends were the teachers because no one else wanted to get to know me, and I suppose it added to their disgust. In middle school, I started to learn who were my friends and who were pretenders. But it took a lot of suffering to figure out that people were liars and wore their own masks. I had worn that mask that hid what had happened in my house for so long that I couldn't picture anyone else trying to harm me. I made friends but a lot of people seemed to dislike me. I'm the type of person who tries to get everyone involved in a conversation or any activity, and when I was little, I was more open and confident that if I was nice, other people would be nice back. "Treat others like you would want to be treated," was my motto. But not everyone followed that or treated me the same. There were many days I came home crying and the worst part of my sixth grade career was when my cat had been put to sleep while I was at my father's house. My cat, Oreo, had been my best friend, the tear chaser, my baby, my protector. And with him gone, I felt like nothing would be the same. He would never sit on my lap or wake me up in the morning with his insistent yowling. He would never lay with me on the couch while I read my books. I could never hug him again and cry while he licked my tears away. My best friend was gone, and I didn't know if I would ever have another. Even if he was an animal, he kept me happy.

With his passing, I was sad a lot, but I had to do well in school to make Daddy dearest proud of me because it was the only way to make him proud. I've always been a smart person and it was seen in my grades and how well I understood the material. But when I look back on myself, I was emotionally fucked up. A lot of things hurt me because I didn't have any defenses for them. People said a few bad things and I went into tears. And with Oreo gone, I had to build a thicker shell and I managed not to let a lot of things bother me. It was the beginning of my transformation. I remember my best friend at the time, Beth, had pulled a terrible prank on me. Since basically no one liked me, when she told me a boy wanted to give me his number to call him, I was beyond thrilled even though I didn't really like him or know him. But I was given someone else's number. And when I found his number and called him, he hung up on me. I didn't know why and when I went into school the next day, Beth was laughing. My best friend had lied to my face and had been laughing at me the whole time. Now, I had never been an angry person until I started to change and I had never pushed anyone away physically unless I was playing around. I think I blacked out for a second because next thing I knew, I had showed that bitch right out of her chair and I had wished that she get injured. She fell to the ground, still laughing her ass off before she hit her head on one of the desks. But did that stop her? No. She kept right on laughing, saying it was a joke and that I should lighten up. Me? Lighten up? I wanted to deck her in the face.

After that, we stopped being friends. My other friend, Beth H, hadn't understood why Beth had done that to me, and even I don't know. But despite how awful it had been in my mind back then, it helped me figure out that no matter how nice you are, some people just don't like you. And Beth was all but forgotten when I lost my grandfather. Grampy was who I turned to when I had to visit him and Grammy and my dad's side of the family. He gave me bear hugs and told me he loved me no matter what. He made me feel protected when I had to deal with all the stupid prissiness of my cousins. He accepted me, no questions asked. And now he was gone. I didn't know what to do with myself when Dad told me over the phone that Grampy was sick and in the hospital. He passed away days later from double pneumonia and a heart attack. And I couldn't believe it. My other protector was gone and I had no way to defend myself against my dad's side of the family. They didn't know me and didn't want to get to know me. They ridiculed what they knew of me and made jokes about me behind my back. I was alone in my young world and I didn't know how to deal with it all. I missed three days of school and when I went back, it was like no one had noticed I was gone. I told the class that my grandfather had died, but no one cared. Another student's mother had died so there was no sympathy left over for me. I was sorry that the girl's mother had died from an illness, but the girl herself was a bitch from hell and hated me like it was her job.

A few months passed and a rumor was started that I had lice. Now, it's silly now to think that, "Oooh, lice, big deal." But back then, it was insane what happened to me. The rumor lasted for probably a day, but in that day, I was treated like I had plague. No one would touch me, no one wanted to come near me. When I sat down in gym class, people sat three feet around me in a circle, isolating me. Only my real friends sat beside me. And when people asked if I had lice, I was so confused. Why would I have lice? Why would they think that? It didn't make sense. People came up to me that knew me and some that didn't know me, asking me if I had lice like I was some sort of freak. It was ridiculous and stupid, but it killed me nonetheless. After that, I felt like life was going down the drain. I was only twelve years old and I was already feeling like my world was over. Each emotional blow pushed me into a mild depression. I didn't know what was wrong with me. But my summer was fine until I started hanging out with the "bad" crowd at school. I felt alone, but I hanging out with people with less than good reputations. But I didn't care. I was being accepted and taught how to do things, like steal. And I did steal. I broke the law even when I knew it was wrong, but it made me feel powerful because I had control over something that I was doing. As stupid as it was, and as stupid as I knew I was being, I kept right on stealing. But in my mind, I wanted to get caught. I wanted to be noticed because I didn't know what was wrong with me. I did get caught, and it was the worse day of my life. Florida is rather unforgiving with shoplifting, and thankfully, I was still twelve years old or they would have arrested me. I had successfully ruined the rest of my family's vacation and I was still miserable. Of course I was! I was stupid and stole, even when I knew that I shouldn't. I told myself not to do it and I still did.

It was the start of one of the worst years of my life. Seventh grade, the changing point. My parents didn't trust me, by then John was living with us. I had been horseback riding until that point, but that was taken away. I lost a lot of privileges but my mother was now paying attention to me. I needed that because I didn't know how to tell her that for some reason, I was looking at sharp objects and wanting to use them on my skin, that when I went to sleep I was afraid I wouldn't wake up. I was unable to sort through this weird stage in my life where I finally realized, with intense clarity, that Dad was lying to me and kept thinking that I needed to stay the same. I couldn't handle anything anymore. Thirteen and my life was going down the drain. I drifted by, my grades suffered because I wanted to disappear and just fade away. I focused more on reading than on school. I focused more on playing with matches and lighting things on fire to bother with friends (Not that I was allowed to hang out with them.) And with each passing day, I started to get more and more angry. My dad, my knight in shining armor, was actually the dragon, lying to me behind his shield. My mother didn't trust me, my friends didn't give a shit that I had gotten in trouble. I didn't have any place to run and I needed some way out. And the more I thought of it, the more I started to change. I started wearing black and got into rock music and metal. I started to change from being a preppy little girl into a bitch who didn't care any more. I was no longer sweet and nice. I was no longer innocent. I was stripped bare and I started to push people away. I couldn't trust anyone when I couldn't even trust myself. I was disappearing and I was absolutely terrified of what I might do to myself to feel alive again.​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

The Turning Point​

My life was taking the worse turn for someone my age. I had very few friends at that point, and it seemed like I was going to lose them all just for being me. Or what I was becoming. I wasn't sure who I was anymore. I was just a shell of my former self. I smiled, laughed, and acted like nothing could touch me. But it was all lies, all pretend. I could see it on some of my friends' faces that they were concerned, but I would shake my head and just smile. Nothing was wrong. Really. There's nothing to worry about. But I think they actually knew, but didn't know how to approach me about it. They were as in the dark as I was, except my world was getting darker by the hour.

I remember when my family went out for the day to do something, I can't quite recall. I was fine by myself, preferred it actually, because then I wouldn't have to worry about the glances sent my way, the worry and concern that dotted my loved ones faces. It was too much to handle most of the time. I was fine for the first two hours, and then something happened. I started thinking that my family had just left me and weren't gonna come back. And I was angry about it. Or something like that. I wasn't sure exactly what it was all about. Something within me panicked. I was alone, so alone, and it scared the fuck out of me. I curled up on my bed, playing music to try and calm me down, but it didn't work and I went into melt-down mode. I tore apart my posters, all six of them, while crying and saying random things. I don't remember it like it happened to me, I remember it as though I had left my body in order to see myself in this state. After all my posters were destroyed, I looked at the damage and just...calmed down. I became numb. I went into the kitchen and got a trash bag and gathered up all the pieces and started throwing them out. My family came back home. My mother looked at me throwing out my torn up posters and asked, "What happened, honey?" Like she was curious more than anything. My reply? "Nothing. I just didn't want those posters anymore." My mom just shrugged and went into the bathroom. I had lied smoothly. And she hadn't bothered to notice or inquire further. I close my door and found a thumb tack and dragged the sharpened edge over my wrist. It hurt, but didn't do what I needed. I dragged it the other way. Still not enough. I kept moving it back and forth until I finally saw what I wanted, blood. It wasn't a lot, just a little, but enough for me to go to bed for the night.

I cut myself intentionally one other time, and when I tried to tell my friends about it, it didn't seem so important to them, like it was some usual occurrence. It made me a little, sad, I think. I don't quite recall the emotions that flooded through me. I still didn't matter. That's the gist of what I got. I went through the next few months in solitude and silence it seemed, discovering different animes and a roleplaying site. That helped me a little, I could be someone else for a change. I got in trouble for it later, but at the time, it was worth getting out of my own skin to be someone pretty and amazing, even if it wasn't real. It was enough for me. But the depression didn't ebb. It flowed out and struck deeper within me. Like a plant taking root inside my soul. My grades made me depressed, my friends problems made me depressed. My home life was still something I didn't want to deal with. I hated being at school and I hated being home. I just couldn't get away from myself or my problems and just kept building and building until one day I finally snapped. I was going to end it.

I don't know why I came to this conclusion. That it would solve all my problems. That the inner torment I suffered would just go away with one swipe of a knife across my throat. I thought it would be a hell of a way to go. I think it was around the last few days of seventh grade. Maybe it was summer already. I don't know. But it was somewhere around there. Anyways. It was sometime before my mother got home and my brother. I was alone in the house, which wasn't all that surprising. I dunno what set me off but I decided to kill myself. This life I had was destroying me. I was fighting someone I wouldn't win against: myself. I went into the kitchen and looked through the drawers, trying to find my solution. I found the largest knife in the drawer and thought about what my mother would think when she saw me bleeding all over the kitchen floor that I always ended up cleaning. I thought about how my family would react, wondering if they would try to see if they could save me. I thought I was beyond saving. I thought I was beyond being loved and cared for. I wasn't completely worthless. The cool metal pressed against my skin and for a moment, a few seconds, I really considered moving my arm and dragging the blade across. But then I realized something. I was being selfish in trying to run away. To hide away in the most ultimate of ways. I had been flirting with suicidal thoughts for awhile, but when that moment came, I realized how stupid and selfish I was really being. Did I really want my mother to suffer? My brother? No, I didn't. I just wanted the sadness and pain to end. But this wasn't the way to go about it. So I put the knife back into the drawer, went into my room, and went to sleep for a few hours.

It was a serious turn of events that set off what happened my last year at the middle school amongst my tormentors who were going to learn that you don't fuck with someone who's got nothing to lose anymore. It was the year that my anger finally surfaced. It was the year I stopped letting myself get stepped on and hurt. It was the year that I scared everyone instead of being afraid. I was finally on my way to being free. And I didn't care who I destroyed in the process.​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Three things:

1) Holy crap.

2) I'm glad, so very glad, that you had your moment of truth and realization before you went through with it. My life would be poorer not e-knowing you.

3) You continue to be an excellent writer. Some phrases were positively poetic.
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

You're quite strong, Hahvy. I admire you. <3
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Adversity may wound us, or take away our dignity, but it hardens us; makes us stronger.

That's why it's important for us to remain strong, for ourselves and for others when they need us.

I had a bad begining as well, but it was nothing compared to what you went through. Even so, it taught me that even when a person is stripped of everything, they still have their Word and their strength.

Never give in.
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Ô.Õ ...

Veeerrry no...
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Yes, yes, I know. :p

Though, I did want to put up a video of a PSA from Dexter's Laboratory about running with scissors. XD
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

End of a Nightmare - Start of Something Better​

Eighth grade was tough, but not as rough as the year before. I picked my grades back up to A status and made people notice me for what I was, rather than what they thought. I was changing and people began to notice. They got snapped at when they made fun of me, rather than just a quiet nod and look away. They were scared now of the bitch they had helped create. It also didn't help that the relationship between my father and I changed drastically. I couldn't take his shit anymore and he finally got the point. He lost my trust and I lost what I had of my father. Things wouldn't be the same. He chose his girlfriend over me, his child, when I had been in the right because he had been too much of a pussy to actually tell her off. It was the last straw. It hurt to lose what little we had left, but he deserved it, the cocksucker. Most of my anger was directed at him, but ended up being sent to all those around me that decided to fuck with me. My mother had said that when I was little, there wasn't a drop of anger in my system until my dad demolished my trust. I think back and sometimes wish I wasn't sometimes so quick to ignite. I have a lot more patience now than I did when I started to unleash my anger, but still, sometimes you just snap without wanting to.

I was beyond joy when given the opportunity to go to a different school than all my middle school tormentors. It was like seeing paradise after years of darkness. I could go to a different high school! A fresh start! My chance to become someone different, someone I could be proud of. I took the opportunity and got into the tech school, my dreams seeming so close now. Ninth grade was different, but it was certainly exciting. I met a few of my best guy friends that year, and made some of the best friends I have now. I dated a few guys, but I was still in a state of "people are worthless," and boys were meant to pass the time if they bothered to ask me out. I didn't care much. After a week, they were gone, just blips on my radar before poofing. It was just how it was in those days.

Freshman year treated me kindly compared to all the other years, but I was still so angry. If I got into a fight with my friends, it was explosive and rough, before simmering down to a slow burn that eventually healed. My friends understood my anger, but they still strayed away when they thought I would snap. They kept certain things from me, which aggravated me more, but I had learned to let things go and get them back for it later. I wasn't a bitch anymore, but I got even when the time came around.

Sophomore year was much better. I started mellowing out a little, being less volatile and I enjoyed the relief I could get from my soccer career. It was the only sport I played, but when I played, it was like nothing could bother me on that field except what happened during the games. I had no other cares. Life took a back seat. It was during this year that I met my first boyfriend, Mike. He was cute and charming, a foot ball player, but not a jerk. At least, not from what I could glean. I accidentally told him I liked him at the semi-formal dance, thinking my friend Jon had already told him. Boy, had that been a shocker! But still, we ended up dating for roughly two months before he dumped me. The relationship wasn't that good anyways, when I look back on it. He never complimented me and from what I remember, he ended up lying to me a lot and got angry when I wanted to spend a lot of time with him. He taught me that he hadn't loved me, and that fucking my best friend was more worth his time. But I hadn't known and didn't find out for year after we dated. But by then, I didn't care.

Shop was fun, I was an electronics major at school and loved every minute of it. I met my best chick friends there, Jesska and Christie Pie, the only other girls in my shop. We were the strangest trio. Christie was valedictorian of our graduating class, Jess struggled just to pass some of her classes, and I was somewhat in the middle, more mild. Jess would bounce from one extreme to the next, being loud and totally out there. Christie was more cutesy and out going. I was quiet with a sharp tongue, but loved their energy. Their positivity canceled out my negative feelings. They were what helped me get through a lot of my problems. Though at first, I hated Jess for being such a bible thumper and trying to convert me every day in class, and Christie seemed too preppy to be worth my time. But Jess calmed her religious ways and Christie and I found a way to connect simple because she was nice.

Junior year was rather boring, but the easiest year at school. I had so much fun that year that I was constantly smiling. I didn't need a guy to make me happy and I didn't want one. Though, I was still depressed hearing about my friends' boyfriends and what they would do together. But I just let it go. I didn't need to get caught up in emotions that had no place to begin with. I got by pretty well, doing great with my classes and having great relationships with my friends. I mellowed out quite a bit that year and a lot of my friends noticed. It felt good to let a lot of that anger go, though I still had a lot of it. As the summer came and I finally got to see some of my friends from my town's high school, things began to change again. Only, I wasn't prepared for how much they would change.

I met a boy who changed my world.​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Intermission: Hahvy's Poem Corner​

This little section will be dedicated to my random poems that I think up when I cannot write out a chapter. It will probably end up filled with multiple poems, so it won't really be that small...Anyways.


I wonder what to do,
When the sky falls down,
And steps away from blue.

It darkens and fades,
Changing from light to dark shades.
It's overwhelming.

Take a deep breath now,
Drink it all in.
That life is over,
A new one will begin.

Just as the rain falls,
The storm will clear again.
Leaving behind memories of what had been.​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Summer of Love, Year of Bliss, and Summer of Heartache and Heartbreak: The World Ends and Begins Again.​
His name was Blaine and it was crush at first sight. He was the cutest boy I had ever seen. I had been sitting on the couch when he walked through the door way that lead into the living room and kitchen, and I felt my heart thump so hard in my chest that my breath had stopped. He was gorgeous. And I had thought about not going! Something inside of me told me to talk to him, to get to know him, to learn all I could about it. I was never so bold before as to actually try, but something urged me to reach out to him somehow. I waited for opportunities but none seemed to appear. We had little tidbits of conversation, but nothing to really connect on just yet. But then I heard him mention a band I loved that none of my other friends like, guys included. He was the first. I was so elated to find a way to connect with him in a deeper way: music. He told me about a concert that he was gonna go to and I couldnâ??t help but ask if he could take me to it. He said he would and I couldnâ??t keep the smile from my face. So we got a little closer, sitting a little bit nearer on the couch and I took his iPod to check out his music, finding so many bands that I liked. It was amazing that he liked the same music as me, almost unheard of in my group.

I couldnâ??t keep it to myself. I told my friend Casey, the center and birthday girl of the party, about how I liked Blaine. She told me to take it slow, ask him on a date first before asking him out since a lot of girls usually ended up liking him and he already liked another girl but she was dating someone. She wasnâ??t trying to deter me for her own gain; she was trying to keep me from getting hurt. And I had taken it slow, like she had said. But things werenâ??t to go slow. We got closer as the night wore on, staying up late and eventually kissing. God, the kiss was like someone had thrown a fire on my skin, just burning me right down to my toes. It had been so simple, but so good. And more soon followed. I asked him out on a date, something simple, like the movies, and he had agreed. And then my friend Squiggs aka Sarah, had changed the date into so much more.
She had heard us kissing and couldnâ??t take it anymore. She had sat up from the pullout couch and said, â??Hey! Boyfriend and girlfriend over there! Enough, will ya?â? And thatâ??s how it all changed. I still remember the look on his face as he looked down at me with this secret smile as he asked me if I would like the title of his girlfriend, to which I replied, â??Only if youâ??ll accept boyfriend.â? And the deal was sealed with a kiss. We stayed up all night just talking and snuggling, because he didnâ??t want to sleep and wouldnâ??t let me either, for which we paid for in the morning. He ended up having to go to work and I was so tired that I left a little while after him and passed out the minute my head touched my pillow. But I was so giddy with joy, that I slept straight through for a good couple hours. I couldnâ??t wait to tell my mother the news. She was skeptical at first, but soon she accepted it and I was overjoyed at having a boyfriend. It was like Christmas for me, and I was bubbly for days.

We hung out almost every day that week, almost every day basically, and I couldnâ??t have been happier. He told me I was beautiful all the time, and that I was the greatest thing in his life. And I felt the same. But I had to wonder, was this what good relationships were? I had thought what Mike and I had had was normal, this wasâ?¦this was incredible. Was I really supposed to be this happy all the time? But for a moment, I thought it would all end. We talked about cheating; how neither of us would ever do it nor did we support it under any circumstances. And then I went inside with him only to get yelled at by my mother for being late, by four minutes. FOUR MINUTES and I got reamed in front of my boyfriend. And to make it all worse, the phone decoration I had broke in half. I had gotten it for Christmas from a good friend of mine and it had meant so much to me that I couldnâ??t help myself from crying. We went into my room and I curled up in his lap as I spilled my guts about my past, how I had attempted to kill myself. All of it. I told him everything except what my cousin did to me and just waited, telling him it was okay if he left, that he didnâ??t deserve a girlfriend who would cry like this with a littered past. And his eyes got glassy as he looked at me, like he was going to cry. We had only been together two weeks and I thought that I was asking too much and that he was gonna leave. But he held me so tight and so close, like he never wanted to leave and whispered, â??If I could say I love you and truly mean it, I would. But I care about you so much that I wanna be sure. Iâ??m not gonna leave. Not now and not ever.â? It was the most amazing and comforting thing anyone had ever said. And for once, I believed that someone, he, actually meant what he said.

The next two weeks flew by and soon it was our one month anniversary. We had gone to the concert and had a blast the week before, and on our anniversary, we simply hung out. But I realized something that day. We were sitting on my couch and he was resting his head in my lap and I was just stroking his hair as we sat in the gentle silence. I looked down and just knew then and there that I loved him. I truly did, but I wasnâ??t sure if then was the best time to say it, so I kept it to myself. We went out to dinner and then went back to his place and curled up in his bed and just watched TV, cuddling close. It was perfect; just the best day ever. Suddenly, he sat up and looked down at me and said, â??You remember two weeks ago when I told you that if I could have said I love you and meant it, that I would have.â? The butterflies started up as I looked up at him, wondering where this is going. He just smiled brightly as he said, â??Well, I love you, Shayla.â? And I just laughed and pulled him close for a kiss as I told him I loved him as well. My heart swelled with joy, so full I thought I would burst from so much emotion. It was the best day of my life.

The months went on, and boy, it was truly the Summer of Love. I was so happy with him and it always showed. We made things for each other, like drawings and such, because we couldnâ??t afford much. But I didnâ??t care. Senior year started off with a kick and I was damn happy with myself. Everyone could tell that something was different about me. I couldnâ??t keep to myself the summer I had had. I had learned more about the sexual side of relationships, though still very shy but wanting so much to give all I had to him. But nothing major had happened yet. Anyways, I played soccer, went to school, did my work, and then went to see my baby when he wasnâ??t busy. It was easy to be with him, like second nature to make a little time for him. I didnâ??t get to see him as often now, but it was okay. As long as I got to see him or talk to him, everything was all right. We got into some fights, like normal couples, but they still hurt and sometimes we got on each otherâ??s nerves. But we always sorted things outâ?¦

The new friends I had made through Blaine soon got girlfriends around the same time we were in our third or fourth month of dating and it was pleasing to have more girls â??in the group.â? Overall, it was just good to be where I was at in my life. We talked about sex, how nervous the two of us were, and we discussed with our friends about it, separately of course. We made two attempts to have sex, which didnâ??t end well and I was getting aggravated and frustrated with myself. It was stressing me out that I was more or less, the reason we hadnâ??t been together the way we both wanted. But when it did happen, it the best anniversary of my life. It was two weeks before Christmas and I had gone over his house, having my own car by now and for some months, basically around the time we had started dating. We ended up going into the basement, which was set up like another living room and he had set up a bed of blankets and pillows on the carpet floor. I had blushed and smiled at him, so nervous but so impressed. He had wanted it to be special, unrushed like it had been those first two times. Even if it was in the basement, it was still romantic. But it turned into being a kind of funny moment. Like before, he couldnâ??t quite get it in and so he just looked at me and said, â??Iâ??m sorry, babe. But Iâ??m gonna just shove it in.â? I couldnâ??t even believe what he had said before he pushed and went all the way in. It hurt, really bad, but once things got moving, it wasâ?¦almost euphoric how he ended up making me feel. I had never felt so complete and loved and happy in all my young life until that moment.

And I swore that I would marry him someday. And he said yes.
​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Even The Best Hoped For And Well-laid Plans Get Destroyed​
It seemed like our love was endless. It just get getting stronger with each week, each month we were together. We ended up with a pregnancy scare, even though we were using condoms and were very careful. But we were smart about it and bought Plan B together. It was scary as hell to ask for it, I was shaking so bad but he held my hand and it gave me strength. The man at the pharmacy was so nice about it, not judging or even asking questions. Just asked if I was 18 and to show my license. He probably knew how scared I was, I knew I probably looked it. But it worked out and I immediately got on birth control which made me pretty sick the first week I was on it. But it worked out and I felt much better about being even more protected. Still, we took things slow. And after the incident, we got that much closer and started discussing marriage and the potential of children in the future, years from then. I remember we were sitting on the couch in the basement, watching TV and I asked him that if I asked him to marry me, would he say yes. He told me yes without hesitation before presenting me with the same question. I just looked with a smile and said, "Of course." It was a no-brainer. I loved him and wanted to be with him forever. As the months went by, we grew closer, more loving if it was possible. But we did get into fights but we always resolved them. We cared to much to let it ruin us like it did with a lot of our friends who ended up "breaking up" every few months because of one fight or another. Besides, we were good for each other.

Senior Prom and a new tattoo came and went, along with my boyfriend's eighteenth birthday. We had a birthday party for him and of course, some private time for us at the end of the night. He was just so happy, he practically glowed with it. He was the center of my world and for a long time, I knew I was his. Summer started again and our one year anniversary came just like that. He gave me a diamond and sapphire necklace that matched a ring I had been given by a friend of mine. It was beautiful and I put it on immediately, loving it and the card that said I was the only one for him. I gave him a chain necklace and a card and we spent the whole day together before ending it with a bout of bed-time sharing. Everything was perfect and so absolutely wonderful. I was finally happy beyond my dreams. We had talked about getting married after college and possibly moving in together when and if I got an apartment. I was pleased with how things were going. But they didn't keep going in my favor...

The month following our anniversary marked the end of us. We started fighting more and I felt him pulling away from me. I had been having nightmares that he was gone from my life and wasn't coming back. I should have heeded them more. I knew we were headed for a break-up, but I didn't know when. Two weeks after our 13th month anniversary, we had an average weekend. We made love on Saturday, and didn't really see each other Sunday, but he still stopped by. But something was bothering him. I just didn't know how to go about asking him. I stroked his hair and held him close before he left, telling me to tell him I loved him like always. I said I did and he gave me a kiss and then left. The next day was hell. I took off the necklace he had given me because I wanted to wear the cross I got for graduation. I feel like, because I took it off, it added to the break-up. I went to work like usual on Mondays and then came home and called him. He was busy so I let him go off on what he was doing. I decided to hang out with another friend of mine, Anthony. We went for ice cream. I was having a blast and then I got home and was told that Blaine had stopped by and he seemed...angry. I tried to call him and he wouldn't answer and then he ignored my IMs for a half hour before he finally talked to me, angry as hell and I had no idea why. He said I didn't answer his phone call when I didn't have any missed calls from him (back then, I had terrible service with my phone, which he knew about) and so I got Anthony to talk to him. I borrowed his phone to text Blaine and he stopped talking to me then. I didn't know what was going on, and was so nervous and afraid that I started going numb. Why was he so mad?

I didn't end up seeing him until late, which was 7:30pm, and only because Anthony persuaded him to show up. And when he did...god, it was like a stranger was on my porch. He spoke to me, told me he couldn't "do this anymore" and that...he didn't love me like I loved him. That his love had changed. I didn't yell, I didn't fight, just told him I tried to be everything he needed because he did the same for me and I told him to go home, my eyes burning with the urge to cry. I heard him get into his car, turn on the engine and leave my life the way he had come into it: Abruptly and leaving me with little warning. I curled up on myself and cried, screaming with the pain and agony inside my heart. He was gone. The love of my life, the one I had wanted to marry, was gone. My whole body hurt, everything hurt and I couldn't stop crying. My mother came onto the porch to ask what was wrong and I told her what happened. She tried to hug me and I flinched, not wanting to be touched by anyone. And to top it off, Anthony had seen and heard everything. I called my friends, trying to see if anyone could talk to me or him and figure out what the fuck was going on. But no one was around. Everyone was on vacation in Cape Cod or Maine. I was alone. My best friends weren't around to keep me from drowning in my agony.

Anthony went home and I called two of my other friends, the only ones who could see me. I went numb, started laughing about random shit. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. This was just a dream. But then I would sniffle and hold my head, knowing it was real. That I was alone with the darkness again. I scared the shit out of Anthony because I went into a semi-suicidal rant, telling him traffic looked like fun and that jumping off my roof would be an awesome flight test. He was scared, truly scared I would hurt myself. But I didn't. It was hard as hell with what I was feeling, but I didn't do anything stupid. My friends showed up and held me and I couldn't stop from crying. Why was I abandoned again? What had I done? How could I fix this? I had no answers and boyfriend-my now ex, gave me no reasons as to why we were through. That was the worst. Not knowing what went wrong. I ended up listening to old messages from him on my phone and I felt my heart shatter all over again. I stayed up until four in the morning, woke up at six, and didn't go back to sleep until later that night. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, and I didn't want to go outside. I called my work and told them I couldn't go in and my boss understood. I could barely speak on the phone, feeling like I might burst into tears at any moment if I even hinted at what happened.

My mother was concerned that I would just rocket off into oblivion, which is what happened for awhile. I was sick for weeks, a little over a month of being unable to keep a lot of food down and no appetite to speak of. I barely slept and when I did, I kept getting dreams of Blaine leaving me over and over again. I didnâ??t go out. I stayed in my room and cried while listening to music, trying to figure out what had happened. I tried talking to him and every time ended in tears. There was no going back, there was no mending this. We were through. He made that perfectly clear. And I ended up seeing him a few times the rest of the summer, and each time felt like a punch in the gut and a bullet through my heart. We were both miserable, but we wouldnâ??t talk about getting back together. I knew he didnâ??t want me anymore, not like I yearned and cried out for him. I cried each time I saw him and ended up having to leave whatever event I was at. I couldnâ??t stay there when I couldnâ??t sit in his lap anymore and tell him I loved him while playing with his hair. Or joking with him about a funny sex story we had. I just couldnâ??t take seeing him. It tore me apart anew every damn time.

I started going out a little more, but the ache and the despair was still there. My mom described me as a person in mourning and every night basically, I would cry myself to sleep, trying to be quiet so I wouldnâ??t alert my brother to my distress. I lost probably ten pounds during the first two months of being broken up. I slowly started eating normally again, but it was hard. It was so hard to start getting back into a normal routine that didnâ??t involve him anymore. Randomly, we would talk online and it was confusing every time. He wanted me back, but he wouldnâ??t ask me or tell me he needed me. And even though I loved him and desperately wanted him back in my life, I wouldnâ??t ask for him back. He had to knock on that door by himself, I wasnâ??t just going to let him back in. And it killed me that he never asked.

I hung out with Chris and we did some stuff, and it was relieving to know that at least someone still wanted me, even though it was more physical want than anything else. Oh, Chris cared, but he didnâ??t want a relationship with me. And I guess I needed the reassurance that I wasnâ??t some freak that no one would ever love. It really felt like no one would love me like Blaine had. College started and I made a few friends, but my old friends, the ones who knew, would look at me like â??What happened? Why did it happen to you?â? They had looked at Blaine and I like role models. And even three, four, five months in, they still couldnâ??t believe we were broken up. Neither could I. I was reminded daily of what I no longer had.

It was damn hard to live again when the center of my world wasnâ??t present, like I had a black hole where he had been. Smiling was rare and even when I did smile, most of the time it was fake. I was masking my hurt and immersing myself in my work since I didnâ??t have a job any more. Another blow that I had to deal with when I was already hurting. Lifeâ?¦sucked even more so than before. Better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all seemed like a cruel joke. I was flirting with suicidal thoughts again, just random things that would float into my head. I never told anyone, of course. I would never try that again, but I couldnâ??t stop myself from thinking, would I die if my car drove into the light post? Or if I didnâ??t put on my brakes at a stop sign or red light? I wasnâ??t in a good state of mind, but like before, I was able to hide it extremely well.

I was in the black once again. I had hit emotional rock-bottom.​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Oh, Hahvoc.

You've seen the problem, now, with letting another fallible human become your center. Oh, my dear, I wish you could have been spared all that. But I hope you'll keep pushing through. I know you love with everything of your being. But you've got to find a way to do that without losing yourself.

Still and all, I envy you the time you had, being completely and utterly happy. You had more than many ever get, for all the pain you had to endure as a result. But now... now you know what you can have. And you can have it again, hon. You can find it again. It'll be different, it'll be unique, as Blaine was. But it'll be just as good.

You'll find it.
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

It wasn't that he was my "center." He was my focus, but he occupied a lot of my life. He made promises and stupidly, I believed them, so I guess I had him more ingrained than I originally intended. But there was still a separation between us. Like we had separate friends and group friends and we went to different schools. But I understand what you mean by what you say. I love entirely and in this case, I believe he couldn't handle it and ended up scaring himself with the marriage talk and whatnot. But he never told me, so it's sort of his own fault. But oh well. A lot of my friends ended up giving him shit for it and telling him he was making the biggest mistake of his life. That's just how things go. Not everything works out or goes according to plan. But he meant more to me than anyone I've ever known besides Jess, whom I call my daughter.

Things are as they are. And I guess I can't believe still that that all happened over a year ago. o.o​
 
Re: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

But, I suppose to give some of you readers a better grasp on how Blaine was with me, here's a song quote:

You were wild and crazy,
Just so frustrating,
Intoxicating,
Complicated,
Got away by some mistake and now..

I miss screaming and fighting,
Then kissing in the rain,
And it's 2 am and I'm cursing your name.
I was so in love that I acted insane,
And that's the way I loved you.

Breaking down and coming undone,
It's a roller coaster kind of rush.
And I never knew I could feel that much,
And that's the way I loved you.

And just so we are clear:

I want everything back but you.​
 
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