Bad Decision Make Good Stories Novels & Stories

Dominic For me, Mondays are always the worst day in a week. I slept late last night after rushing my homework in Literature, which was supposed to be done first thing last Friday, but unfortunately, I wasn’t able to space some time up to make it; instead, I was up partying and binge drinking all night at some random house party. I ended up wasted the very next day, and it even got extended until the very next day, and yet I woke up thirty minutes earlier than my alarm clock. This is the worst thing that keeps on happening to me.

I seem to have that effect on people. "Max___" "Don't you have like, I don't know, songs to write or something?" "It's what I was doing before dad called," "Well you should have simply ignored his phone call and focused more on your song," "Max___" "Your songs clearly need more attention than I do," I said, a smirk on my face. And I showed him a video of his performance where he ruined everything when he mixed up the lyrics to his song, "It's a bummer there was such a huge crowd there... But look at the bright side, you trended like crazy. I mean, the comments here are just___"

Samara gives her the finger as she greedily hooks into her own chocolate thick shake. We spend most of lunch listening to Kiarra's funny stories. She met a few people that were staying in the same hotel and went out partying with them, which apparently was the wildest night of her life. She had us in a fit of laughter as she explained how she ended up naked in the back of a van with some guy named Billy, due to a card game gone wrong. I shake my head at her as I wipe my eyes. She isn't one to be that crazy, which makes it even funnier.

“When you tell a story you are setting a contract with your audience. You don’t say to them ‘Let me tell you something that happened in real life,’ you say, ‘Let me tell you a story.’ People look to stories to give them the things that real life doesn’t.” “Such as?” “In real life your problems are rarely resolved, you don’t get closure on the situations or relationships that have most impact on your life. Your father never explains why he didn’t say how proud you made him. Your ex-wife never apologies for cheating on you repeatedly. Bad people aren’t punished for their crimes and good people go unrewarded for their virtue. We look to stories to give us the closure and the resolution we so de

The dots are slowly drawing a picture for me. “Hold up, he’s married?” Vincent asked loudly repeating what he just said and completely ignoring my statement. “Yes, he’s already married and he even has a kid,” I spat at him, and then I went quiet. How could I do this to myself? I asked myself this time. Trevor isn’t the only man on this planet and yet I was so much drowning in his quicksand. He’s slowly sucking me in. I just don’t understand why I stayed after knowing that Trevor is already married to someone else. He got me completely locked in the palm of his hands. I should’ve left the moment he admitted that he’s already married and spared myself the sin and the pain. But as a terrible de

An hour later, I pulled over to my driveway and went straight to bed but I couldn’t sleep that night, trying to come up with a way to save Alicia. All the good memories came back and played over and over again that night—the memories that I was fighting so had to destroy but kept on failing. The good memories then disappeared, allowing that one bad memory that I had of Alicia to keep on playing. The only memory that always clouded the good memories that I had created with her, that one bad memory that made me hate her so much. The thought of the betrayal that I got from her made me so pissed and felt like whatever that she was going through was what she deserved for deceiving me. I had zero

“I can’t believe everyone is pointing fingers at me for exposing a bad person.” Amber didn’t flinch. “Him being a bad person isn’t the issue. You were excited, Jace. Excited to tear them apart. Excited to make Zara see Noah as the villain.” “Well, he is a bad guy.” I answered, unrepentant. “You don’t even have real evidence,” she shot back. “You don’t know the full story.” “What other story do I need?” I exploded, frustration boiling over. “God, what the hell is wrong with all of you? Why are you all acting like I’m the bad person here?”

I don't see landscapes, I see the memories of my past birthdays. A cell phone rings, it's not mine. It's Frank's. “Are you okay, young lady?” she asks slowing down, going slower. “No, Frank, I had a bad day. A very bad one.” I don't know why, but Frank inspires me with confidence, something about him assures me that I can trust him with my problems. “A bad day, how could a bad day make her cry?” “Not the day, the things that happened yes.” "What happened?"

"How about... if you give the media a clarification? I think it's a good time to do the media a little favor so that they produce a... good story." "If I'm being honest, the media loves bad news more than good news. Yes, of course, because bad news sells better and makes the wallet grow." Diego chuckled for a moment, then continued, "I may sound crazy, but in the last few days, I've come to realize that humans are very elusive creatures. We all crave the good, but at the same time, the pleasure we want is closer to the bad. It's an interesting fact." Caraline nodded again, then smiled as she observed Diego's dashing gestures. The man had managed to dispel her irritation in just a short chat.

He whispered, his words tickling my ears. Is this good or bad? He should never have noticed me. But then again, there ain’t no harm in this. Moreover, his type would never fall for someone like me.