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My Life and Knowledge Passed On To Me Or Learned

นักเขียน: Master_Mortis
Fantasy
กำลังดำเนินการ · 1.1K จำนวนคนดู
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What is My Life and Knowledge Passed On To Me Or Learned

อ่านนิยาย My Life and Knowledge Passed On To Me Or Learned โดย ผู้เขียน Master_Mortis ที่เผยแพร่บน WebNovel....

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The Post-War Children

Malik is a 16-year old boy who escaped the war in Syria when he was 8, and with the help of a charity company got to meet his adoptive mother, Frederique. She was a single psychologist in her late twenties who specialized in war-time trauma and was deemed qualified to mother the orphan, Malik. When he was born, both of Malik's parents, whose marriage was an arranged one, were violent with each other and had grown incessantly tired of each other. This meant they didn't properly raise him, but it also meant he was subject to their constant bickering which often escalated in front of him. Regardless, they did both love him in their own way, but refused to cooperate in his upbringing which meant a lot was missing from his childhood. Later, the Syrian war had reached their city and the family was forced to evacuate. When confronted by militias, his father opted to stay behind with other men to make time for the women and children to escape. Then his father died. His mother, in her grief and the chaos, got separated from Malik. Later they reunited at a ship helping refugees escape the country, but the ship sank and Malik emerged the sole survivor when a touristic ship crossing the Red Sea found him. He was brought to England as a refugee and gained citizenship by being adopted by Frederique. At first, he was mute and refused to ask for anything more than was given to him, due to his many psychological boundaries, but with support from Frederique and his therapist, Dr. Miriam, he learned to start speaking without fear of repercussion and demand things of Frederique. Their relationship was still somewhat distant, since Malik remained a boy of few words and little expressions. But Frederique made up for it with a bubbly but consistent and trustworthy personality. It was still difficult for him, however, to form interpersonal relationships and he was shunned by schoolmates until 9th grade. In the tenth grade, Malik met a boy named Liam who became very interested in him and in being his friend. The two developed a dynamic of Liam constantly seeking Malik out and following him around everywhere. Liam found Malik cool and wanted to become close to him. Malik slowly got used to his presence and began to trust him and enjoy his company. After a year, the two became inseperable and found many shared interests. But one day Liam is hit by a car and dies. Malik succumbs to coping mechanisms he had long shunned and experiences one panic attack after another in his re-elapsing episodes of complex PTSD. This story aims to draw light to the forgotten victims of the foreign US-funded wars that traumatize and impact generations of people for their entire lives.

DaoistmSTMId · สมจริง
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
1 Chs

DANGEROUS LOVERS: Love At First Fight

They met under dangerous circumstances and parted ways under disguises. Not knowing the name or identity of the other person, an eye color is their only clue, how will they find their way to each other? A pair of eyes which haunt them every night, belong to the other half of their souls, but will fate let them come together in harmony or will their coalition leave destruction and devastation in its wake? Peace which prevails without their union or thunderstorms which would change the course of their lives and the lives of their loved ones? What will they choose and what does destiny have in store for them? Read to find out… *** EXCERPT Sitting leisurely on his couch, he appraises her from head to toe. His gaze touching her body, like fire caressing her, unusual but hot. His eyes darken at her drenched appearance, “You should have been more careful about your look when going about confronting someone, you do want them to take you seriously, don’t you?” “Huh?”, was all she could respond with. She was peeved at his behavior, who cares about the appearance of a person when they are pointing a gun straight at your head? “I can kill you right here you know? Then we’ll see how serious I am!”, she said waving her gun in the air. “Seeing as you are to my taste, I’ll give you a little bit of advice kitten…”, he said standing up from his seat languidly, as if his life wasn’t in any imminent danger, despite it being the case. He walked towards her like an emperor taking a stroll in his garden, she tightened her hand around the gun, “Stop right where you are!”, she warned. But he moved ahead unafraid of her gun or her threats, and stopped right as the gun’s muzzle touched his chest, “This gun isn’t doing anything for me, but you can sweetheart.” “What can I do?”, she tilts her head to the side, confused about his response to her blatant threat. “Be mine.” ***

Little_Ai · สมัยใหม่
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
1 Chs

Painted Scars

I dip my one tenth flat head paint brush into a puddle of colors that I had mixed to resemble a light royal blue color, I make small strokes with my brush filling in the iris of the very eyes that haunt me night after night. Ones that are so much like my own yet at the same time so different that it doesn’t make sense how anyone could mistake them for mine. I paint the long flat hair that mirrors a raven's wings, a mix of blacks, dark purples and blue. I replicate those colors with paint to get the perfect color scheme, imitating how light reflects off her hair making her look life-like. I paint her rosy red full lips creating the light curve of her cupid's bow, capturing the bright smile that was plastered on her lips. I paint the smile lines on her cheeks using a mix of light grey and the skin tone color I had originally used to create shadowing. I use that same color to portray the crinkles at the edge of her eyes that had been etched into her beautiful creamy very light golden toned skin, probably from the years of the constant joyousness that was written on her face. I try to capture that very joyfulness in both her eyes and face trying to make it clear all the way through to her very being. I paint her the one person I had in my life that loved and understood me better than anyone, I paint her to maybe help fill that empty void in my heart that she left when she died. I paint her by memory from the arch of her brow, the slenderness of her face and the soft rounded curve of her chin that fed into the sharp edges of her perfectly defined jaw. I memorized the light blue color of her eyes that was a mix of royal blues and another color called cloudless. I remember the curve of her lashes and the small button-like nose I inherited from her. I remember her so perfectly that it hurts. I remember the sound of her voice, the way she would throw her head back when she’d laugh too hard. I remember every single part of her, and sometimes I can see her if I stare into the mirror long enough. I remember her so perfectly but how could I not? How could I forget my mom? How could I forget the woman who raised me? The person who loved me? The person that brought me into this world? How could I forget her? How could I forget my best friend? How could I forget her?

Addi_hope08 · สมัยใหม่
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3 Chs

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