Goodbye To Trash Hello To A New Me Mga Nobela at Kwento

The clean hallway outside our home had turned into a disgusting garbage dump covered in buzzing flies. There was a designated trash area in the neighborhood, and everyone here had lived together for over a decade. There was no way people didn’t know where garbage was supposed to go. Anthony immediately exploded in anger. “Who did this? Throwing trash in front of someone else’s door like this, do you people have no shame?” Someone nearby muttered under their breath, “It’s still nothing compared to being the other man.” Anthony immediately lost it, grabbing the speaker by the collar. “What did you just say? I’m telling you right now, Anthony is not an adulterer! The real adulterer is that fake

Her hand stopped an inch above the keys. It would be a waste, she thought instead, to throw away something this good. She let the photo stay. Her fingertip found the screen and traced, slowly, the curve of his smile. "You should be happy this time," she whispered, so quietly it barely disturbed the air. "I'll make sure of it."

Maybe he had never been treated like that before, but slowly, the calls stopped. The messages also went silent. At last, I could start adjusting to a new life. At first, it felt strange being in an unfamiliar place and a brand-new job all by myself. However, little by little, I realized I could actually find joy in it. Life began to feel meaningful and purposeful again. The part of me that had been suppressed for years was finally breaking free. Sometimes, though, my thoughts would drift back to the past, to those unforgettable moments that had carved themselves into my heart.

… I went to the public phone booth and dialled the familiar number once again, expecting no one to pick up like before. But to my surprise, before I could even say anything, a voice—both strange yet familiar—came through. The voice said, "Hello, this is Joseph Coleman. How can I help you?" It turned out that Joseph wasn't dead at all.

This was exhausting. Sighing, I held my hips and looked around the store; it was almost closing time. Thank God. Cleaning up the trash the customers left on the desks, I mentally groaned as I heard the bell sound, notifying me there was a new customer. I quickly rushed to the counter and put a smile back on. I wanted to go home; today was difficult. "Welcome to Deez Goodies. What can I get you today?" I asked the man, who glared at me.

I noticed the scratches on the back of Carl's hand, and he instinctively pulled it back. I chuckled. "Give it to Wendy. It suits her well." Why would I go down that same dead-end road again? Once I made up my mind not to look back, that was it—no turning back, not even if the memories were wonderful. … I left the city where I had spent six years of my life and set off with my best friend to start over. I used my savings to invest in a publicly traded company, and the returns were way better than expected. I bought a new place, traveled to the cities I'd always dreamed of visiting, and took in the views I'd dreamed about for years.

Her gaze dropped to the bike beside me, which I hadn’t even bothered to lock properly, and her brows furrowed again. "I… I came out to experience real life!" I blurted, grasping for an excuse to cover how pathetic I looked. "Experiencing life involves digging through trash?" Alisha pointed at the overturned garbage can by my feet. A few empty plastic bottles had rolled out onto the ground. An idea hit me. If I was already this deep in, I might as well commit. There was no way I was admitting I’d followed her because I felt insecure.

But when I woke up, I was still alone, paying for sins I'll never outrun. "Goodbye, Gina. I wish you and Ryan nothing but joy. In the next life, I swear I won't let you down." I shook the envelope, and a necklace fell out. It was the one that held the ashes of our first baby, Jeremy's last tether to the past, but now he had given it to me. Behind me, Ryan called out, asking me to cut the cake. I called back, slipping the letter into my drawer. Then, I fastened the necklace around my neck and walked toward him.

"Call again, and I swear you won't even know how you died." Then I hurled the phone against the wall. The screen shattered on impact. I clenched my teeth, glaring at Elmer. "Can you take me to the hospital now?" He froze, then gave a small nod, lifting me back into his arms. As we stepped out the door, the smashed phone lit up again. Beneath the broken glass, a message popped up. "If this is your choice, then I wish you well. From now on, we're strangers. Our paths will never cross again."

Someone snapped a picture of me, filthy and rummaging through a dumpster for plastic bottles, and posted it online. It quickly went viral, sparking a storm of comments. “The prettiest dumpster diver.” “Hey, quiet little one, the netizens seem to be really interested in you.” I took small bites of a bagel, listening quietly as Marcus Dale read the comments aloud. He pushed his hair back and continued reading from his phone. “Isn’t she Lindsey Thomson, the eldest daughter of the Thomson family?”