Are There Free Minecraft Coloring Book Pages For Birthdays?

The sky turned red, and meteors fell. Screams and explosions everywhere. For an unknown reason, people started having magic abilities.. Most were happy, but it didn't last long. Soon came the undead. To survive, kill, or be killed. Her mom disappeared. She was betrayed by her ex-fiance' and killed by her step-sister. Now she's back a year before the apocalypse, equip with magical space, this time will it be the same? Warning: mature scenes, gore & violence. Hi readers, I'm an amateur author. Please be lenient with me. This is my first novel, so please allow me to grow. Suggestions will be appreciated. Thanks!!! This story, characters, and places are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people, places, and events is purely coincidental. Would you like to buy me a cup of coffee? https://ko-fi.com/oppo_red pictures source: https://pixabay.com/ https://www.canva.com/

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

She cupped my face in her hands and said, slow and deliberate, "We're going to make a promise. Starting tomorrow, you'll draw one sun a day in your notebook. No skipping, no cheating—you have to fill it with thirty thousand suns. Only when you've drawn the last one can you come find me."

On my birthday, my husband of five years accompanied his childhood sweetheart to celebrate her dog's birthday. Avery Simpson published a loving post: [The happiest baby in the world. Mom and Dad will be with you. I hope you're always happy.] Seeing the words "Mom and Dad", I commented a question mark with confusion. The next moment, I found myself blocked. Charles Logan called me and lashed out at me. "Why do you always have to mess things up at the worse possible time? You're worse than a dog. How despicable!" Shortly after, Avery changed her profile picture to one of her and Charles, hands intertwined. When I saw the obvious provocation, I didn't get angry like before. That's because I had already made up my mind to get a divorce.

“Zelle, don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” Zach caressed her hair as tears fell on her cheeks.   “Y-you—you are not my knight in shining armor… This is not a fairytale!”    Aaron held her hand away from Zach. “I can be your prince if you want to...”    Zelle fell on her knees bursting into tears, “Please stop! I—I don’t want to see you two in one of those boxes too!”   18 people she cares about… 18 days left before her 18th birthday… Each day onward she receives bloody gifts containing disembodied parts… Which candle our Little Zelle will blow on the day of her birthday? “Happy Birthday to me…” ~~~~ * Original Novel * Original Book Cover * Copyrights Reserved