Daisy Brown Novels & Stories

When it comes down to thinking about Love, people get confused. I am taking the dance shoes you bought once from me. I am taking a few more things with me which will remain with me forever. In return I have nothing to give you except some painful memories from my end. But I grew a small bunch of Daffodils down there at the side of the lawn these days. Take care of them as they were my favourite. You know Daffodil means rebirth or hope. They struggle through the winter to come in Spring in order to decorate our nature with its colour of happiness.

Said Daisy smiling. “Another handsome guy in class” someone commented from behind. “He is that new hunk’s best friend” came a female’s voice from the extreme corner of the class. “This is Nicholas Brown, whom Mrs. Grizelda mentioned yesterday” said Liam plainly while reading the book in front of his desk. “Oh, he must be super smart like you all. Here, I hope we will get along well” said Daisy keeping the drink in front of Nick, Liam and Mark with the brightest smile on her face.

She didn’t know whether it’s because she’s always in the hospital or because her ability was to heal. As for Dior, he doesn’t smell much, only when he’s using his ability excessively, that he usually emits smell similar to burned papers. It wasn’t pleasant, but also wasn’t that disgusting. Dior didn’t emit that smell much anyway, just for special occasions. The second door they entered was a woman’s. It was a woman around 183cm, with a boxing glove on both of her hand mercilessly punching the punching bag in front of her. She’s the source of the gasping sound, followed by a slam. As she stretches her hands to the punching bag, you can see her blood vessels showing.

this Dasher girl was sarcastic today. "Well, aren't you always sarcastic?" she intertwined her fingers together. "What do you want, Swamp Goddess?" The lady in front of Vlora Dasher was a gorgeous one...the one who would want to stop you in tracks just to see her thoroughly. She had violet eyes twinkling with unique light on it, her long blonde hair let loose reaching down to her lower back. Dressed up in a high side slit dress and a deep neck, her lips were black. "The same thing all of you want..." she smirked and Vlora understood what she meant.

I mumbled, as I was still only half awake. Daisy turned and smiled widely at me. Her short boyish hairstyle accentuated her sharp cheekbones and brown intelligent eyes, which were currently sparkling with excitement. Daisy, being a damned brilliant engineer, was currently finishing up her degree in Robotic Science. She was extremely passionate about creating new and improved robots. She licked the ketchup off of her index finger, while walking over to hug me. Still somewhat asleep, I remained motionless and she continued to tighten her arms around me. “Oh babe, I came to help you! This is your first day as President Gray’s secretary. Aren’t you excited?!” She asked, practically bouncing up a

She never really had someone to help her and she wanted people to know she could help. I gave in one day and bought us this little house that was run down and needed a lot of work. While we rented this small apartment. I worked on the house behind Sadie’s back. It was hard to pull off any surprises around Sadie. She always knew what I was up to. She couldn’t help it, but I did my best to keep it off my mind whenever I was around her and so far it seemed to work. Unless she knew and just wasn’t telling me. I didn't want us to bring our new daughter home to a small apartment. I wanted Sadie and my daughter to have a home that belonged to us. Sadie even made a new friend at school. Her name is

Jo asked. Daisy did not answer. Instead she took her daughter’s hand and approached the round table. A woman at her mother’s age stood up and greeted Daisy and kissed each other on the cheek. “So this is your daughter Josephine?” the woman next to her asked. She is Ellen Brighton, a woman socialite. “That’s right, Jo, this is my friend Mrs. Ellen Brighton,” Daisy said. Josephine nodded respectfully at Mrs Brighton. The woman who wore a pastel color suit took the young man who had glanced at her earlier.

I won’t need it today, but its presence is a reminder that everything we fought for—the blood, the danger, the betrayals—has led to this moment. A soft knock on the door makes me look up. Before anyone speaks, Daisy bursts into the room, spinning slightly, her long chestnut hair bouncing around her shoulders. She is dressed in a deep sapphire gown, cinched at the waist, its skirt sweeping elegantly across the floor. Her hair is braided loosely on one side, small silver pins keeping the strands in place, and her eyes shine brighter than any jewel in the room.