A Little Life Plot Novels & Stories

This is the story of a young man with a secret talent who plays good samaritan and finds himself at the center of a battle bigger than himself... but he won't be alone! At least that's part of the gist for now.😅 Now let's see how it goes… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "The ghosts in my house wouldn't be so bad if they could just stop trying to cook" which will not appear in this form because it's allowed to work around them and so I did.

I recognised these sensations. Adam’s grave expression flashed through my mind. The reports. The words, you need to start treatment immediately, or— And inside me, was this tiny child in a fight for its life. Unwanted by his father. A problem at best. A mistake at worst. This little one was fighting alongside me. Against the illness. Against this house. Against the quiet truth that neither of us was expected to be here. We weren’t wanted. Camilla held up a crayon, beaming. “Aunt Lily, your flowers look so pretty! I like blue, too.”

"Let it go? Gemma killed Zack because of her friend. You want me to just let it go?" Helen's face paled. I continued, saying, "I will never forgive her in this life. She can stop dreaming." Then, I slammed the door in her face. Returning to my room, I leaned against the door and slowly slumped to the floor. In the living room, my grandmother was still humming Zack's favorite nursery rhyme when he was little. I lowered my hands and retrieved the photo from my pocket. It was taken on the day of Zack's graduation. He was wearing a cap and gown, grinning stupidly at the camera.

He started to speak again, but Phoebe cut in from the side, her voice bitter. "They've probably been seeing each other for a long time. Now, she wants him out with nothing." Her words seemed to remind Miles of something. This time, he didn't try to stop me. On the plane, I looked out at the city lights fading into the distance. There was no hesitation or attachment, only a quiet sense of anticipation. When we landed in the new city, Jonas took me back to the old neighborhood where I used to live. The neighbors still remembered me. They greeted me as we passed, warm and familiar. Their voices made me smile before I even realized it.

The plot did not arrive with thunder. It arrived on a breath — gentle, calculated, hardly noticeable until it had already occupied space. They met the night, when light outside the small apartment yielded to the drizzle-gray of oncoming evening. Leon and Aurora slept: Leon heaped upon his sister in a heap of warmth, Aurora's lashes curled into delicate twists. Their small, pinched lives beat for Leya, weak and sacred. That was what she was staking on a war.

Cali They say when you come to the end of your life you see the beginning, that the life you have led flashes before your eyes like an old movie reel. But standing there, staring at certain death, I didn’t see the life I had led, I saw all the things I had yet to do. I saw Tristan and I laying on a beach and playing with our children, I saw huge family Christmases at the pack house and watching our children meet their mates. I saw love and life in complete contrast to the death that stared me down.

Mildred POV The morning came mercilessly, disregarding the fact that I wanted to stay here just a little bit longer. I watched as the morning light poured into my bedroom. This was probably the last time I will see this. The next time the sun will rise I will be under another roof living another life..a life without Arnold. I placed a hand on my trembling chest, then it dropped down to where my baby was growing. The poor little being would only know stories about their father and nothing else.

Outside, the rain pattered. Inside, for the first time in any world, they weren’t planning an escape or a sacrifice. They were sketching a life. Messy. Mortal. Theirs. And the story wasn’t done yet.

Lillian in the back, which had been her decision, quiet and present, the forward-facing anticipation she had described doing its steady work. The city moved past the windows in the Sunday morning way, lighter traffic, a different quality of movement, the specific tempo of a day that was not a weekday. I held the notebook in my lap. Not open. Just present. The notebook with the names in it, Mirabel and Elena and Sophia Reyes, and the photograph of Victor and Sophia at the restaurant table, and the photograph of Elena laughing outside the Albuquerque building. All the pieces of the story that had been assembling itself since I had woken up in this life and smelled lavender.

“That’s because I’ve been reborn, too. You and Cassie killed me in the previous life, and this time, you’re both paying for it.” “What? So it was all you? I’m going to kill you!” Cole screamed hysterically through the prison bars, but it was useless. Not long after I left, he broke down and smashed his head against the wall, ending his own life. With his death, my nightmare from the previous life finally came to an end. From that point on, every day was a new beginning. [The End]