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Homeless

Auteur: YuaraKant
Magical Realism
Terminé · 8.4K Affichage
  • 6 Shc
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What is Homeless

Lisez le roman Homeless écrit par l'auteur YuaraKant publié sur WebNovel. Guillermo is a succesful manager, he hangs out with his friends every day, and he has a women which he shares his bed with. But he's still homeless....

Synopsis

Guillermo is a succesful manager, he hangs out with his friends every day, and he has a women which he shares his bed with. But he's still homeless.

Étiquettes
3 étiquettes
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A Good-Hearted Person

“Why are you leaving me?” I asked calmly, trying to hide my real emotions.  She stared at me for about a moment as her lips began trembling. I know she couldn't contain much of her energy in so she bursted out her pain. She broke her gazes and sobbed. I know what she’d been through, I know exactly the answer of my question and yet I wanted to hear it from her upfront. For so long, she heaved a massive amount of air and breathe out, eager to utter a single word. She said as she put her eyes on me again, “Because… I’m,” then she cried loudly. My eyes ached and it became watery. “What?! You said it yourself that 'walang iwanan' but now, this time you're leaving everyone!” She wiped her tears away and tried to be brave. “I’m sorry.” I wiped my tears away as well. “Your leaving everyone specially Ashny, Kuya Human, Kuya William, Ate Ana and me?” “Sad to say, but yes, I’ll be leaving. After all it’s my fault anyway. Spicy, could you tell everyone that I won’t forget y’all despite my circumstances and I’m sorry,” After that, her tears fell down again. I nodded. “For being the spicy of Faminty, I promise to remember you always. Pinky promise?” I asked, stretching my arm for a pinky promise. She smiled despite the rolling tears. “Yes, pinky promise.” She gave her pinky finger to me and hook into it. I heard a small cough, so I turned my head. “We’ll do the best in our power to remember you, Sweetie. But when the time will come that you might forget about us for an instance, then prepare yourself to remember us again,” Kuya Human said, with his expectedly compromising words. Behind him, Faminty members appeared suddenly, and then ran unto us. When they finally arrived, I could see through there cheeks left trails of visible tears. “Crying is no better that everyone will be ugly. Why don't we make a group hug, everyone?” Kuya William cheered, trying to lift the atmosphere. “Thank you, Faminty. I will miss you!” Sweetie cried. After the mourning of everyone, a man covered in black took Sweetie away from our embrace. We tried to get her back but the man was strong and surprisingly she didn’t do any harsh reckless movements. One thing that shocked me was she hugged the man by his neck. I tried to stare at the man and somewhat I felt familiarity on him. “When will she return home?” Ashny asked out of blue. No one neither dared to answer nor looked at her. Everyone knew that Sweetie’s homecoming might take a long time. Everyone stood still on the side of the road, we never moved a single muscle. The only gesture was to smile, apparently a smile in bitterness, the eyes filled with tears, because we lose our friend.

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After-Life

Death. To all of those whomst I've met over the course of my short life, it was a somber word. A word signifying the end of something sweet, something joyful. I believe-- no I know, there are worse things than death. Loneliness. Fear. Regret. Guilt. Betrayal. We make death out to be such a dark thing yet why does it feel so freeing? I've always seen birds used in literature to represent deaths, and now I can finally, truly understand why. Dying feels as if you've taken flight and have whisked away all that once burdened you. And I have never felt better. Perhaps my family still remains down in the mundane world, cursing my name, yet all their words do is add wind under my wings. Luckily I am no longer a part of that world, now my only worry is where to fly next. Perhaps to the ocean to enjoy a nice sea breeze? I feel the sun shining on my face- Shit. Why is it so damn bright? Did the curtains open while I was asleep? Ah. It was a dream. Perhaps a better word is "a memory yet to happen"? My seventeenth birthday to be exact. The day I was finally free, the day I watched myself get impaled on my Father's arrow and bleed out on the forest floor. Though, I don't have much time nor energy to care for that too much, especially seeing as that day is 9 years from now. Why must the God of Life curse me to live again? I am sure there are plenty out there with unfulfilled wishes who would looove a second chance at life. I was plenty happy being dead. Trigger warnings for: Physical and mental abuse, violence, death, suicide mentions, and suicidal ideation.

hawkrhys · Fantaisie
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