18 And Ruined Novels & Stories

Amanda was now in high school when her Elder sister was in her third trimester of her pregnancy. When Amanda was in the school for barely three weeks ,she realized almost all her classmates were using the latest phone"iPhone 13 pro max This made her to see her iPhone eight as an outmoded one and felt left out. On her way home she smashed it on one of the pavements leading to where the driver was packed waiting for her . The screen got badly cracked when she picked it up and not it was malfunctioning.

It was at the age of eighteen that I was stabbed in the back by the people who should have loved and protected me the most. It was at the age of eighteen that I fell madly in love and lost the fruit of a love that I thought would be eternal. It was at the age of eighteen that I was beaten and almost killed at the hands of my own father and my younger brother. It was at the age of eighteen that I lost my baby and became incapable of generating another life. It was at the age of eighteen that I discovered how much it also hurt to know that Noah had accepted a check with good numbers to abandon me without a second thought and disappear into the world.

He tilted his head and saw a window had gotten open because of the vigorous blows of thunder outside. Walking towards it, he closed that window and locked it. Zian strode back to his place. He didn't even know what to do there anymore, except just to stare at the empty walls. To pass the time, the 18 year old took out his phone and started browsing it. He sat beside her on the bed and started using his phone. He was playing a game when suddenly he lost it.

I was just a young girl who didn't know better… I'm sorry, Jamie. I'm so sorry. I'm not Jamie. His grip tightened on the bottle of whiskey, clenching his hands as they shook. Let's end it here, Anna De la Vegas… you're dead to me. A gut-wrenching groan tore from his throat as he hauled the bottle at the glass. It hit with a heavy thud and dropped to the floor, rolling. His eyes followed it; it was cracked… just like everything else.

I mutter, draining the remainder of the canteen. "I still don't know how they could do something like that to a—how old were you?" "Eight." "What the fuck is wrong with them? Why would they do something so horrible to an eight year old?" My lips are twisted into a grimace at the memories it brings up and I take a deep breath. "Not that this isn't a fun topic but can we talk about something else?” “Like what?” “Like—I don’t know—uh . . . Oh! What do you plan on doing after you turn eighteen?" I suggest.

“Wow I can’t believe she turned out to do all that after leading him to believe she loved him..I suppose some people prefer money over conscience” " You’re right, and it’s surprising just how many people are like that, they divorced over 15 years ago and he still hasn’t let anyone else get close to him and I don’t blame him, I think she ruined his trust for good” "Poor man, that’s hardly fair. Some people are just fucking morons!” He chuckled ”You seem too young and cute to swear, how old are you by the way?” "I’m 18, and yes I might look little and cute but I’m not fragile or anything, I’m just tougher than I look, which is good in a way cause its always amusing when people underestimate me

And yet I float there in silence, letting the ache spread through my chest and bleed quietly into the water around me. All I know is that I’m ruined. And Ares Russo doesn't even know he’s the one who broke me. Vivid images continue to replay relentlessly behind my closed eyes. Areś with that woman, how he touched her, his hands rough and detached, as if the contact meant nothing at all to him. As if he didn't feel a damn thing. The image leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, a relentless reminder of my foolishness. How could I have been so utterly, blindingly stupid? So naïve to let myself believe... fuck, believe what, exactly?

“Fascinating! I could have sworn you didn't have one. In twenty years, it's the first I've seen, you even killed your best friend.” He pauses, “My condolences, he was one of our very good fighters. And by young, you mean…” he asks, sarcasm dripping from his lips like honey. I exhale sharply, “She's just eighteen.” Umbra claps at the other side of the room, and I can imagine him throwing his hands up in the air as if trying to make a point. “Even better! You joined when you were sixteen,” “That was different…” I explain, “It was because of the desperation, I was an orphan, I needed that money.”

She turned away so he wouldn’t see her fall apart. He came up behind her but didn’t touch her. “I’m sorry.” The apology cracked in the middle. She nodded hard. “This is going to break us apart,” he continued, voice weak. “It’s going to destroy Dax. Your dad. Your mom. You. Your reputation. Everything.” She was crying openly now. She turned back to him, cheeks wet. “I understand.” He looked stunned. He’d expected a fight. Her usual challenging fire. “You do?”

But underneath all of that was the sharper, unfinished ache Richard had left behind—the phantom press of his fingers, the low promise that he could ruin me deeper than his son ever would. I showered longer than necessary, scrubbing until my skin felt raw, as if I could wash both of them off me. It didn’t work. When I looked in the mirror, my lips were still slightly swollen and there was a fresh reddish mark high on the side of my neck that I couldn’t quite hide with my hair. I chose a high-neck sweater anyway.