" Creative writing "

PG=100 (idk y i put that there cuz i know it wont count, but i do anywayz. ps, if i journal would i get credit???)
So this blog is just because i was randomly writing fan-fiction for my friends book. Our book. She is obsessed w/ Law and ORder: SVU. I just like writing things where people die. So we are working together to write a book series on it. (it wont get anywhere due to copy-write and it being impossible to get the scripts to the writers of SVU,i tell her that. but she insists. so i just keep writing. Its fun.) We finished the 1st book, and now we are curently on the 2nd. SO i was just writing this chapter and im like...holy crap this is good. I dont usally like my writing, but i could use this somewhere. I dont know where, but i will find something. (will change characters, cuz i'm not the biggest fan of fan-ficton. Create ur own!)
SO basically what's happening is that there are these few characters mentioned in this chapter.

Olivia- (Olivia Benson aka, Liv. From the actual show.)
Elliot- (Elliot Stabler. From the actual show.)
Jenna- Olivia's adopted daughter (My friends Original Character. also Lolah's "Best Friend")
Lolah- Jenna's "Best Friend" (my Original Character. the emotional train-wreck of it all.)

I know who-ever is reading this will probably not understand it AT ALL... but i must say, it is one of my works of writing that i like. So enjoy!


Chapter: Olivia

God, I have to find Lolah before she does something…oh god. She’s not even my child and I’m worried sick about her.
I walk outside in a frenzy thinking of a good place to start my search for Lolah. A club was my best guess, or my the rehearsal studio...But when I turned to go and begin my treasure hunt for Lolah, I tripped over something.
I begin to get up from where I landed on the hard concrete outside the hotel, and there was Lolah. Eyes blood shot, her legs extended out into the street. People pass her by without a glance; they stepped over her like a lost penny. She was staring into space. A vacant look upon her face, and half dressed. Her jeans all torn and her heels broken. Her shirt lying next to her and one of her pink bra straps broken, hanging loosely by her left arm. But she didn’t even seem to notice. She didn’t move: like a porcelain doll. Resting upon the wall, waiting for someone to move her. To play with her, to love her. Just waiting and absolutely nothing else.
“Lolah… It’s me Liv.” I say as I slide next to her, leaning my back against the brick wall of the hotel. She tilts her head, giving me a nod to acknowledge my existence.
“Lolah, I found my gun, loaded with the safety off, lying in the center of my hotel room a few days ago. At first I thought it was Jenna who touched the gun...but she didn’t. Lolah...did you.” I ask in a calm voice. Still, staring out into no-where she response how ever so quietly.
“Yes. It was me...I was...I was gonna pull the trigger too, had the thing pointed down my throat. But I couldn’t do it. I have nothing, Liv. I don’t have my boyfriend. I don’t have a home. I don’t have a family. I don’t have friends. I don’t have my pride, my dignity. My confidence. All of its gone with the wind. I had nothing to live for. But for some reason...I just couldn’t pull the trigger. I left it there. As if I could just run back and do the deed any time I wanted, without anyone knowing. I ran. I left. I closed your hotel room, and I just ran. I ran into the streets until some guys picked me up and took me somewhere. I don’t know where, but they took me to a place where I could run away from everything. All my problems forgotten...but not gone. Never gone. A place to numb the pain. And I go there every day. It’s not a place, more like a state of mind. No-where.”
“Lolah…where are you staying...” I ask with concern.
“I sleep in the bed offered to me. Sometimes, I’ll wake up and I won’t know the person lying next to me. Sometimes, I won’t even know myself. I thrive off of one night stands now. Sometimes, I wake up and its more than one person lying next to me. I hitch-hike my ways to rehearsal. I bum around places until someone offers to drive me home, or anywhere. So I wait. I wait to laugh...I wait to cry…I wait to live, now a days. I don’t have anything better to do, but wait...” Lolah says with a tear running down her cheek.
“Stay with Elliot, Jenna and I. We can...” I begin to say, but Lolah cuts me off.
“No. I’m sorry Liv, thank you but….I can’t. I can’t look at Jenna; I can’t be in the same room as her. I know you love Jenna, and you can except her choice of keeping the child, but I can never forgive…What you don’t realize is, Jenna is also my daughter. Before you came to adopt her from the orphanage, before anyone came for me…It was Jenna and I against the world. Just us. I would always look after her, like my daughter. We pretended to be a family. I was always the good mother, who never abanded her child, and she was the perfect daughter. I remember, every Saturday night we would sneak into Radio Shack or some place with a TV, and we would flip through the channels until we got to MTV. We would watch the music videos and in –between we would watch Teen Mom, or 16 and Pregnant. We would point and laugh at those girls. We would make fun of them, call them attention whores. Sluts. She promised me, and I promised her…that we would never become one of those girls. Never…and look at her now. 17 and knocked up. I personally blame myself. I just….Jenna, and I…we….” She collapses into my shoulder and just cries. Hysterically. Not as bad when she was in the hospital , or the first few nights when she came out...but rivers poured out of her eyes, staining the side-walk. I just held her. Rocked her back and forth like a child. A poor, innocent child. And that’s all she really is. She’s so young, too young to bare this on her own. She needs a mother, she needs someone. She needs love.

That’s all she really needs.

Love.