Is It Bad Or Good To Have Habits Like Biting Nails?

Addiction is like not having control of your desire for something. Luca Perez, a 29-year-old man is mature enough not to be lured by a temptation. Yet he loses control whenever she's close. Angela Colt is forbidden for the likes of him. She is off-limits. She is his best friend's sister, ten years younger than him. Luca couldn't go through the same pain again, but his addiction was slowly morphing into something more feral and darker which he had never felt before. * Life can be cruel sometimes; you have to find a way to weave through hell and stand strong. Angela is the youngest daughter of the Colt family. A 19-year-old, adrenaline junkie and an adventure lover. Everything was going super fine until she realized her feelings for a certain someone. The person she should never feel for or even think about. Luca Perez. 'You can never fix the broken glass because, in the end, you'll bleed.' But little did she know she could resist everything except temptation.

If you are going to be BAD, then you have to do it the BAD way... It's pretty simple: 1) Don't get caught 2) Always have a Plan B 3) If all else fails... Run...Run for your life! Everyone has a bad side. Some try to deny it's existence, some hide it and others well...they rule the world with it. In the book of being BAD, there are ninety-nine formulas for world domination... Number one: You aren't BAD until you can walk around the school dressed in all pink and have everyone afraid to approach you. Number two: You aren't BAD until you can break into a certain bad boys house and well... do the wrong kinds of stuff. Number three: You aren't bad until quite frankly, you have declared vengeance against the bad boy. ~*~ "I heard you like bad boys," Blade says with a vivid smirk on his face. I glared up at him, without responding clenching my fists fighting the urge to punch him in the face. "So...?" He says after a couple of seconds of silence. "So what?" "So what do you think...Tinker Bell?" He says emphasizing on the stupid name. His face moved closer to mine and I stared back into his green eyes, watching the fire inside ignite. I smirked, "Then find me one." Blade grins at my witty retort and shrugs it off. "I look at you and I see cotton candy, but then you open your mouth... and suddenly you turn into liquorice," he scoffs. "Welcome to the game bitch, your move, now let's play."

One night, as I was making my way to the bathroom around 3 a.m., I saw my dormmate, Yvonne, squatting in front of our door. She was rearranging all our shoes so that their tips were pointed inward. I thought it was funny, so I rearranged them to have their tips pointed outward. The next day, I found that all of them had been positioned inward again. This kept happening for a week, and I continued to scramble things up, hiding the shoes, even, or tying the shoelaces together. But they always ended up being repositioned neatly inward. I started observing my dormmate and found her mumbling to the shoes while squatting at the door. I ranted about it online, only to have my first reply send chills down my spine. [Do you also get the weird feeling that something paranormal is happening around you? You have to move out before it’s too late!]

Mom always said my entire life ran on luck. When I ranked first in my class, she said, "You just guessed really well." When I won a gold medal, she said, "The judges must've been blind." When I got into Westridge University, she told everyone, "This kid has no real ability, just good luck!" So on my first day of college, she tossed me a book of scratch cards. "Since your luck's so good anyway, might as well let it handle your living expenses too. "You get one book per semester. However much you scratch off is all you get. "And just so you can't come crying to me about being broke, I'm blocking you now. I'll unblock you next semester." With that, she ignored every one of my desperate pleas and blocked me on every single platform. I wanted to cry but could not even manage tears. All I could do was scratch two cards every day. On good days, I would win 20 to 50 dollars. Most days, I won absolutely nothing. I survived by sneaking expired cookies out of my roommates' trash. By the last week of the semester, I had developed severe anemia. As I used every ounce of strength to scratch the final card, I laughed. Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.

It was never part of my plan to get attached. I was just a freelance model, newly signed under a rising modeling agency in town. Everything was supposed to be simple; work, exposure, growth. Then came Dr. Aria Williams — dermatologist, surgeon, and the woman who was supposed to fix me. Chaos started the moment I met her. The way she talked, the way she looked at me felt like she was studying every inch of who I was. Every word I said, every silence I made, she read me like I was her favorite patient. It made me uncomfortably hot, and yet... I kept coming back. I told myself it was part of the therapy, the strange pull I felt toward her was part of it. But the way she looked at me; cold, curious, almost hungry, said otherwise. I hated her for it. I felt it every time her voice softened, every time her fingers lingered on my skin longer than they should. She called it treatment. I called it control. What started as therapy turned into something dark and deeper. I wanted to be beautiful, to be ready for the public, but what we craved became something private, something only between us. And the more sessions I had with her, the stronger the connection grew. Until one day, her eyes focused on someone else. And every time their eyes met, it burned through me. When she saw it, she offered something that challenged me. To be her slave and she'll be mine— alone. Soon, I found myself following her every order, fulfilling her desires without question. Along the way, I realized her obsession had become mine too. And before I could stop, the hate I once felt for her turned into something else.

I grasped in horror as l saw my hands turning into claws. Alot of hair also forming on every part of my body. I touched myself to feel that l nolonger have two legs but four. My hands had also formed into legs. Panick invaded me.l don't want to become anything else. I regretted not taking my mum's advice of not coming near the woods. May be if l had stayed home obediently this wouldn't have happened. I felt my new body move on its own until l reached at the river. The water sat there silently and in there l saw what l have become.A beast.l saw a lone tear coming from my glowing eyes. I got away from the river sat down the tree nearby. My body returned ito its human form. I cried and screamed loudly; No am not a beast. Am human: Am not a beast. This isn't me! I screamed. It's you Daciana. It's what you really are. A voice came from from behind the tree.