Tales of the Many: - Nicole M (best free ebook reader for android txt) 📗
- Author: Nicole M
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Her name was Phoebe. She was the prettiest thing a man could ever lay eyes on. The man had enough luck to be able to call her, his. They knew each other from junior high school. As time rolled on, she became president of student council- he was 5th in his class. The two formed a relationship. Nearly every male was envious of him. They grew closer. Made love. Became engaged in the coming years. But she suddenly became very ill. Cancer. She battled it for three years before she died. A slow death. The man by her side, weeping. Watching. He had lost the love of his life. The person who he built his life around. She was gone. He hadn't really lost everything, but in his mind, he might as well have.
Morning comes around. Dreams of his beloved Phoebe no doubt. The night did not bring him good sleep. He raises himself up in bed. The sunshine of morning shines in. He repeats. Every day it's the same old thing.
Three days pass. A bottle lay beside the bed as the light of dawn shines. He does not rise.
Slim Chances
As a teenager in high school, Darren, 17 years old, was a junior. He had friends, had family, but he didn't have a special someone- though he wanted someone. Her name was Dana. The two had been friends, you could say. He had liked her for almost two years. Growing older he had always kicked himself in the face for not gathering the courage to ask her on a date. He wanted to, believe me, he did, but his shyness and fear of rejection prevented him from making a move. Senior year, and he lost his chance when Dana started dating one of the jocks.
Graduation came and went, and not nearly a year later Darren got a notification via social networking website. It was an invitation. Dana was getting married. Angered at both Dana and himself, Darren deleted his account and needless to say, didn't show up at the wedding. Though time went on, he never stopped hating himself for not taking his chance. If he had just said something, made a move, he instead would be marrying Dana.
Fast forward to Darren's mid-twenties. He has nearly forgotten the mere existence of Dana. Good riddance to her, right? Right. He had been backpacking across the states. Nearly 1,500 into his trip he is in New Orleans, and is just about to enter his favorite place to eat. Sweat-dripping, and smelly just as he is about to walk in the door, his cellphone rings. He had even forgotten he owned a cell phone. Hell, he wasn't into family. And all of his friends had all gone their separate ways in life. What did he even need it for? Though he never deleted his contacts, regardless of time or the end of relationships.
He lifts the phone into view. It's Dana. Perplexed, the memories come rushing back into mind. He answers.
"Hello?" He breathes.
"Darren? Hi, it's Dana. You remember me, right? From high school?"
"Of course. How can I forget?"
"I heard you were uh, back packing? I read it in the newspaper. Rather- my dad read it. He wants to meet you, and wants to hear about it. Would that be okay? When will you be back?"
"I can be back tomorrow night I think." Unbelieving.
"Alright, cool! Maybe you'd want to.. Go out for dinner or coffee?" She is hesitant.
He agrees, thinking he could not be luckier, and turns away from the restaurant.
The two sit together outside on a sunny day. They sip coffee and discuss life since graduation. She teaches- coincidence, he does too. She teaches Advanced Placement English. He teaches Advanced Placement Psychology. She is no longer married. Has a kid. And her father had died four years after her graduation. Which is around the time she ended her marriage. What an excuse, to get Darren to meet her for a date.
Once again we fast forward- both are in their early thirties. The two have been married for two years. Darren loves and accepts Dana's son, Aiden (age 8), like his own. And the two now have a little bundle of joy themselves, Finley (age 1).
Darren thinks of how lucky he is that his high school self didn't have the guts to make a move. He wouldn't want anything to be any different than now.
It's so cold outside of this local Starbucks. It's 10PM on a Friday night, and I sit with three people. Three boys. A writing block has taken over, as I sip on my hot chocolate- because too much coffee upsets my stomach. I'm asking what to write about, but none of the boys are any good at the kinds of things I write about. I sit thinking for a long while, when a man walks in. Naturally, I turn my head to see who has come in. He's unfamiliar, but I don't think too much. I mean, I'm not going to know everyone in town.
The man catches my attention again, ten minutes later when he sits by himself, having ordered nothing. I've found something to write about. He paces. Looks at the art on the walls. Watches us. Me.
It's so strange, to look at someone and not know a single thing they've been through. To not know anything about someone. To not know if anyone knows anything about anyone. Who is this guy? Why's he here? What's his purpose?
It's amazing, to think that someone has their own life. Everyone has their own life, and everyone's busy doing things to fulfill their needs and wants and lives, and for a moment, you don't feel important. You don't feel like a center. You feel small. You feel like you're life is much less when compared to the lives of many others. I like this feeling. I feel more blended in, and most times, I like to be invisible. It's nice to think that the world doesn't revolve around you, it's slightly less stressful and worrisome. Others are dealing with so much more, and you are thankful for what you have in the moments you consider these concepts. You are not significant, and that's a comforting thought.
But who is he? Why is he here? What are his wants? His needs? It seems like he should be an ordinary person, but here I am, wondering why he's still standing around at midnight with not a thing to eat or drink. Not paying attention, I here murmuring. When I focus, I can here the man talking to an employee about getting a ride to Zephyrhills. He has a while to wait, for the young man behind the counter to get off shift.
He does not do much more, and before anyone knows it, it's 1AM. The man, saying nothing, takes his leave and walks outside. Walks away. Who knows where he'll go. Hope he finds what he's looking for.
Lilly was a tall, strawberry-blonde, thin, busty, blue-eyed one of a kind. Everyone who came across her thought her beautiful. Even the ones that envied her and spread rumors about her thought her beautiful. The rumors were awful.
Did you hear, Lilly fucked James in the boys bathroom last week.
I heard Lilly sucked off a homeless man for fun.
I've been hearing that for just five bucks you can get into her pants.
Even the teachers talk about her. Most are sympathetic. However some are sick. Two male teachers in the past three months have called her into their classrooms only to attempt at seducing the teenager, who bluntly refuses every time.
The thing about Lilly is, she's not at all what people make her out to be. Despite her misleading figure, she's only had one relationship. It lasted for a year, and when she said she didn't feel comfortable sleeping with the guy, he left and ruined her rep. Every day Lilly struggles getting home in one piece, sometimes a student will follow her home. She lives with her grandparents, who don't pay attention to her.
Lilly is always feeling devastated, and regrets waking up alive in the mornings. Until one day, she decided to leave. She packed her bag with clothes and stole $2,000 from her grandparents in the middle of the night. The next day, she explained to them that she was going over to a friend's house for a few days, to which her grandparent's were perplexed, she never hung out with anyone, but they didn't question it, and decided it would be good for her health. Only Lilly wasn't going to a friend's house.
She walked several miles that day, in the hot sun. Stopped for some food at a Burger King. Snuck into a gated community when a car entered, used the public showers by the pool, someone left
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