Chapter One “It wasn’t me!” I shouted. I clenched my hands into tight fists. Why wouldn’t he understand? I almost gave in to the overwhelming urge to give him a solid punch in the face. The front room seemed to disappear. All I could see was Dad’s angry face. “Don’t you dare raise your voice at me young man!” Dad barked. He was breathing hard. We were standing so close that I could see the fine hairs on his face. I stared defiantly into his dark eyes and smiled at him. A muscle twitched in his
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handed him a small pistol‚ "it isn’t much‚ but it will give you some protection. Please be careful‚ I love you." Saying his goodbyes‚ Thomas turned to the curtain drawn tight over the window. June 15‚ people call it Broken Moon Day. How creative. June 15th of every
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The crumbling leaves swayed‚ as the winter air crashed against his home. Walking towards his farm‚ William became uncomfortably aware of his surroundings. He grew up in this town‚ spending his days working and adventuring in every niche of the area. For an eighteen year old‚ his journey of life was monotonous. He endeavoured to peregrinate and advance his life- but his next journey was one that caused a nauseous‚ yet prideful feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Please don’t do this Will‚ I need
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finding comfort in routines‚ clinging to anything that felt normal‚ holding on to something of home. At the same time trying to forget‚ trying to push the thoughts away‚ hold them back like the water in the dam they were building. But frequently memories would flood in through cracks in the wall and she would remember. She remembered dirty cobblestones and grey skies‚ the sound of her shoes on the road and the eggs that fell from her hands when the gunfire shot. Wide eyed‚ she had continued on‚
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The Years of the Berlin Wall: From My Eyes August 13‚ 1961. A day of misery‚ ordeal and dashed hopes. I had woken to the sound of an obstreperous shriek and what seemed like a case of mass hysteria. Within minutes I became conscious of the fact I was alone in the bedraggled shack we liked to call home. I wandered around in my solitude. Promptly I advanced to the outside pavement where infinite numbers of people were gathered. To the left of me I noticed my mother. Seated on
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"For Justice!" Superman lets out a warcry‚ immediately throwing himself at his armoured archnemesis‚ sending them both into the mountain behind the ruined castle with a loud crash. I guess... that was our cue‚ I assume‚ selecting my target amongst the Young Justice clones. Also‚ I’m guessing that the JL is taking down Luthor’s gang‚ leaving the responsibiliy of handling ’Project Solar Dawn’ to us. We should know ways to beat us‚ right? Out of us all‚ I guess that fighting ourselves is the best option
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The Blue Wall of Silence Beru Cakrazli "Charlie! Charlie‚ come back here!” Her German Shepard’s scruffy tail wagged from side to side as he raced away from Anna. "It’s early. The grass is damp. The wind is brisk. The birds are chirping. Prospect Park is filled with people. Just not my dog." Anna heard the echoes of people screaming and Charlie barking. She rushed towards the commotion‚ sheer terror masking her face. "Someone call an ambulance!" A knock sounded at the door. "Commissioner Hyde
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wounds or makes one’s life a little better‚ a little more enjoyable or productive. It’s easy to talk about these things‚ much harder to do them. I think the only one who can help you is you‚ just the same as the only one who can help me is me. I’m writing about the actual work of change‚ what is sometimes called transformation. We might get ideas from others and that can be good. Especially if we know that person has lived the change they’re preaching. We might even agree to work with some mentor as
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The rooftop was iced with a cushion of snow‚ merging with the creamy-purple twilight sky. Shovelled into the rooftop snow‚ a pale red sign read “Land Here Santa”. The sign was flaking and the wood was splintering‚ but it still brought the same vibrancy to the little cottage. The cottage itself was built with rich auburn brick with a white lining. An extensive string of sprightly festive lights ran along the eave of the roof‚ illuminating the street‚ spreading warmth through a bitter morning. A snowflake
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g Beautiful Tragic Love I never asked my life to be a FAIRY TALE or PERFECT‚ all I wanted was a normal life‚ and I didn’t have a very happy childhood living with my parents as an only child. As I was growing up all my life it revolved around men‚ every time I would fall in love with one‚ they would leave me after 3 months. I was beginning to feel like a hopeless romantic just like my mum when my dad had left her when I was beginning to experiment with love. I felt cursed. I kept asking myself “WHY
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