Caption Newspaper

Today is the sixth time my girlfriend, Shirley Lake, is supposed to meet my parents. My parents and I wait at the restaurant for four whole hours. I call her over and over again, but she never picks up. Just as I'm about to try one last time, I see Shirley's childhood sweetheart, Joshua Solomon, post a picture on his Instagram, with the location tagged at a suburban hotel. The picture shows a woman's pale back, one shoulder bare, with a striking red spider lily tattoo visible on her skin. Underneath the picture was the caption, "We'll make it from 18 to 80." A mutual friend comments, "First-love couples are the sweetest!" I silently hit the like button, then comment, "Make sure to get buried together when you die. And don't come back to haunt anyone else."

I went to exactly one party in my new, wealthy neighborhood. Then my neighbor Brenda sued me. In court, she held her bruised and battered daughter, Tiffany. She accused my son of rape. Mid-hearing, Tiffany tugged her collar down. Red marks circled her neck. "He tried to rip my pants off," she sobbed. "He tried to force himself on me. I fought back. So he beat me. He ruined my face!" Outside the courthouse, protesters held up signs, calling my son a piece of trash, a spoiled rich kid. Online, a photoshopped memorial of me went viral. The caption read: The unfit mother should die with her son. My company’s stock plummeted. But I just sat there. Stone-faced. I asked for my son, Cooper, to be brought in. The courtroom doors opened. Cooper walked in. Everyone froze.

Ever since I started at the Brooklyn Enquirer as a journalist, I've been reporting on stories nobody cares about. But the other day, I found a story that I was sure the audience would sink their teeth into. One that was front-page worthy and would make our newspaper infamous. Except it centers around a mafia boss and his bloodthirsty brothers.  It won't be easy to get it, but I'm determined to prove my worth. And it starts with Darick Dawson. My heart fluttered as we gazed into each other's eyes. At the same time, we leaned forward, and our lips touched. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he stroked his fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots softly, earning a moan from me. He traced his finger around my lips when suddenly, I opened my eyes and noticed the red in his irises getting darker. My Bloodthirsty Mafia Man is written by Claire Wilkins, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author

On the day I miscarried and suffered from haemorrhage, my husband posted a photo of a newborn’s tiny feet on his Instagram Story. The caption read: “Welcome, little angel. Daddy will always protect you.” With trembling hands, I called him. “The baby’s gone. Can you come to the hospital?” On the other end, I heard a baby crying, followed by the man’s impatient voice. “In that case, take good care of yourself. Louise just gave birth and needs someone to care for her. I can’t leave. “Besides, the dead shouldn’t compete with the living for affection. Got it?” He hung up right after. I broke down alone on the hospital bed, and when I finally wiped away my tears, I dialed the number of his sworn enemy, Levi Snow. “Marry me, and the entire Wright Corporation will be my dowry. All I want is for you to bring Finn Yeaton down. Do we have a deal?”

On Children's Day, the most popular social media post is about me. The caption is: "Mr. Shane Norton spends his birthday with his son David Norton and his first love, Ruth Feynman. Has he finally decided to divorce Ayla Sanderson?" I quietly press the "like" button. When my phone rings, I'm in the midst of taking down the balloons I put up for our wedding anniversary. "Honey." My husband sounds anxious as he tries to explain himself. "David suddenly insisted that we go to a theme park, so I—" In the background, I hear David laughing. "Dad, Ruthie says that I can sleep with her tonight!" I look at the mess in the house. The balloons are drooping, and the cream on the cake is congealed. "You don't have to explain," I hear myself say. "I understand." It's just that this time, I don't want you or David any longer, Shane.

My fiancé, Dominic, heir to the Carvalho crime family, vanished for four days. I thought a rival family had put a bullet in his head. Then I saw his ex’s Instagram story. A shot of them in bed. The caption: He still knows every inch of me. His face was hidden, but his hand wasn't. And on it, the ring I gave him, resting on her skin. That night, Dominic came home. He brought me white roses, my favorite. I asked him why. Why he'd lie. Why he'd sleep with her. He brushed it off. Just a "misunderstanding." I was done. I threw the ring in his face. Burned the wedding dress. Told him we were over. He thought I was just throwing a fit. He didn't get it. Not until he realized I was walking away for good. Then he panicked. Begged me to come back.

When I was struck by a stomach illness, my boyfriend, Charles Fischer, was busy blowing out birthday candles with his assistant, Beverly Wagner. I lay there in excruciating pain, but he didn't even glance at me. Instead, he affectionately stroked her nose.  “Bev is a year older! Make a wish, birthday girl!” Later, after I had fainted and was rushed to the hospital, I called Charles, only for him to ignore me.  Meanwhile, Beverly posted a photo on Instagram. Gifts filled the screen, with the caption, [Yay! Charles is the best ever! Charles and Bev, together forever!] When I confronted him, Charles didn’t care at all. "It's Bev’s birthday. Were you expecting me not to spend it with her? If you can't handle it, we're done!" This was the umpteenth time he'd threatened to break up with me, always confident that I wouldn't dare to leave him.  Not this time.

During a typhoon alert, Joyce Lane calls me and tells me to pick her up from her company. On the way there, I receive a text from her. "You don't have to pick me up anymore. I'm going to stay over at Fin's place for a few days." I opt not to start anything with her. Instead, I calmly text back, "Okay." In the middle of the night, Finley Jones, Joyce's junior at work, uploads a social media post that's meant for my eyes only. Joyce can be seen huddling against Finley while feeding him some snacks in the photo. The window outside depicts a storm. The caption writes, "It's only befitting for me to tide out the worst weather with the woman I love the most." I leave a like on the photo calmly. Suddenly, Joyce calls me and demands what that like means. I reply coolly, "It means we're breaking up."

"What is it?" "It's called Dissociative Amnesia Disorder." "Well, what's that?" "It's a memory disorder. It explains your memory loss of that night. But not about how you could forgot your father's name." *** I hate it. I hate that I couldn't remember the name of the person who took care of me. The person who raised me, the person who loved me. I spent years trying to find out. I've read every book, every mission report, every newspaper in the country. But, nada. Nothing of that incident ever reported. It's like it never happened. But I know it did. I remembered it, every single moment. Until everything turns dark. But little did I know, the answer was staring at me the whole time. *** Katrina Clyde, a brilliant girl, the best agent from the Spy Division of La Reu Inc. She's surrounded by friends that support her, whether in the organization or outside the organization. When got called into an important mission, she then found out that this mission could lead her to her missing memory. One that she thought she wanted to retrieve.

[Sungguh kasihan ibu ini ditinggal merantau suaminya tapi tidak pernah dikirimi nafkah hingga mengharuskannya bekerja sebagai pemulung padahal suaminya bekerja di pertambangan. Naasnya lagi, saat ini anaknya sedang mengidap penyakit TB. Bagi yang mau membantu Ibu ini dan anaknya bisa kirimkan donasinya ke nomor rekening yang tertera di caption] Bayu terkejut saat melihat berita viral di sebuah akun di sosial media. Pasalnya yang sedang diberitakan itu adalah istri dan juga anaknya yang sedang memulung. Bagaimana bisa keduanya kekurangan hingga harus menjadi pemulung? Sedangkan setiap bulannya Bayu selalu mentransfer uang yang cukup banyak untuk istri dan anaknya ke rekening kakaknya yang bernama Sita.  Apa yang akan dilakukan Bayu?  Apakah Bayu bisa mengungkap apa yang dirahasiakan kakak dan juga ibunya selama dia bekerja? Apakah pernikahan Bayu bisa diselamatkan?