Born To Be Bad Novels & Stories

Madam Banners said with flushed eyes. Bebe knelt on the ground, extremely devastated. “Mom, I never thought there was anything wrong with my birth before because everyone around me was very friendly to me. They would flatter me and please me, making me feel that being rich and powerful was everything. “But now, wherever I go, people would point their fingers at me and curse at me. They say that I’m the daughter of a mistress. They say that my mother forced her way into another person’s marriage and made the husband’s first wife miserable. They also say that my dad is an ungrateful, money-grubbing scumbag.

Just before they left my mother glared at me, the hate she had for me burned brightly in her eyes while my father shook his head in disappointment. He shouldn't be though, I already disowned myself long time ago I wasn't a member of this family. "What's the worst thing that's ever happened to you?” The teacher asked. Pulling the pen out of my mouth I replied. “being born." An honest truth. Being born was by far the worst thing that ever happened to me, I hated it and watching them struggle to get Janice to the hospital only made me hate it more. "Why so worried?.” A voice whispered.

She was scared of dying, and she was too much of a coward to leave him. I guess I should thank my dad for teaching me to be the predator and not the prey. Because of him, I taught myself always to have power over those wimpy little nerds and show them who the boss is. I enjoyed being feared. It was better than being pushed around. Shoot, I even got any girl I wanted. I had bronzed skin, tousled brown hair, green eyes, and my face was strong and define, which qualified me as handsome to most girls in my school. I made sure I worked out regularly, so I had well-defined abs and biceps, so all I had to do was to pretend to be interested, and they were eager to be with me, the high school bad boy

“I should be apologizing. This was a mistake.” My fragile heart broke into a million pieces. “A mistake?” She found her shoes and stalked to the door. I went after her but by the time I got to the door, she was running to the back door of her house. She shut the door with a thud. Under the cool lonely night, feeling like the worst idiot ever I buried my face in my hands and choked back the sobs that threatened to fall. I hated myself, hated my awkwardness, my shyness. Most of all I hated myself and the circumstances in which I was born. I never blamed my mother for having me or choosing me over an absentee father but at the time I couldn’t help but feel my life would be better if my mother h

"I don't believe on people being born as evil. Something happens that push people to be one. Childhood experience, trauma, abuse, or an accident that involves head injury. That's what make people do evil things." "You really are a good person, Chris. You don't want to simply judge people, you always wants to make sense of why they do the things they do. That's why you're the best." "You still think I'm the best?" "Of course, dummy."

Blessing to my ears. All it took was few days of manipulation for them to believe and do what an unknown well wisher of theirs were telling them.. I felt evil yet right.. I would be the top student in a psychic ward for being crazy.. It all makes sense about the times people would say that villains are not born but made.. Was I born crazy with these murderous thoughts? No.. Were all of my personalities born with me? No.. They were created when I faced trauma and abuse.. My love was snatched from me so I'll do everything to bring it back.. Even if I need to go through a bloodied path..

Aunt Connie said, “But don’t think that it was your fault because it isn’t. No one should ever feel that being born is their fault. That’s just wrong, in so many ways.” I gave her a small smile. Looking back I knew there were more times when I hated the fact that I was born. I used to question the reason why I was here and not my parents. When I see bad people on the news or in real life, I couldn’t help but hate them. How can they be here and not my parents? For such a long time I kept asking what my purpose was. Because it's really hard to go on and live your life when you have nothing to live for.

However, there was no option for me to be good. I was born in violence, hated from birth, and my life had nothing to do with happiness or opportunities. I didn't even attend school like normal people. My life had always been miserable, and being this way was the only way I had to cope with the fact that everything in me was dark.

Many hours later, the morning sun had gone up into the sky and released very magnificent rays on the red moon pack. Where Badmus was, he could nit say why, but he felt a lot of peace in him. The feeling was one that he could not boast of feeling through the years ge had been by the side of Ruckus. But this morning, despite not waking up on the comfort that his luxurioys bed offered to him, he felt really good. Not like having to wake up on the bed was a very common thing for him. No way. In fact, he could count the number of days that he woke up on his bed through a full cake dar year. It had always been about doing one thing or the other fir an like Ruckus who dud not deserve any of the thi

She knew better than to interrupt now. “Say something,” Ash finally said. “I don’t owe you anything.” His jaw tensed. “You’re right. You don’t. But I need to understand.” I folded my arms tightly, trying to hold myself together. “You want to understand? Fine. I race because they said I couldn’t. I race because my brother was thrown out like trash. I race because I was born in a pack that only sees me as an omega girl and not a person. I race to win. And to burn down the rules they use to cage us.”