I Thought It Was A Common Possession Novels & Stories

Samantha overheard the conversation of the saleslady who measured her for sandals earlier. They had their backs turned to Samantha, so they didn't know she was standing behind a large mirror. "Maybe she sold her body to the guy in exchange for these things," one of them said. Samantha didn't expect that. Of all the possible reasons, that's what they came up with. ‘Damn it. I’m not like that,’ she wanted to say to them. "She looks innocent, but I feel like she's a paid companion," another one added.

It was too small that it couldn't accommodate more than a person and it didn't give such freedom for a single person either. I washed off my body as I bolted out wet, my hair was dripping as I shivered, looking for my towel in my tidy wardrobe. None of the stuff there belonged to me. They were all there before I came and I just have to use it and someday, I'll be probably dead and the next breeder who comes in will use every stuff here again.

I whisper. “I know.” “I know it’s stupid.” “It isn’t.” “They’re just things.” “No.” His hand moves slowly through my hair. “They’re memories.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Exactly. Exactly that. Everybody thinks it’s furniture. Or dishes. Or clothes. But that’s not what I’m thinking about. I’m thinking about the framed picture of my parents on their wedding day. The quilt my grandmother made before she died. The little coffee mug my mom used every morning. The things nobody else would understand.

“Where did you find that?” I turned, looking at the hair pin she was pointing at. When I first picked it up, it had struck me as belonging to Vivian, but I knew it was impossible; Vivian would have no reason to be in a place like this. Nor would she likely still possess her jewelry if she was a rogue; it would have been stolen or sold. No, it was probably a mass-produced accessory, and someone in the area had the same one. I was just drawing connections where there were none because I was paranoid.

To the rest of them, all those beautiful masterpieces were nothing but just another part of the in house decor. I personally found them quite beautiful, too beautiful to be owned by just one person actually. But then again what did I know? these people were rich and so maybe owning a few expensive art pieces wasn't much of a big deal to them as it was for me. It was probably just something they did in their free time when they weren't busy running conglomerates. Something as simple as buying a pretty dress or a fancy flower vase on the side of the road after work like it is for us common folk.

“I don’t. Or at least I don’t think I know more. Don’t you think it's all weird?” “Weird? My mother is missing and you are calling it weird! “That’s not what I mean. Until now, no female has been reported missing. Why?” He shakes his head at me. “I don’t know. What I do know is that we are wasting time.” “What if they are like me?” He shakes his head at me. Not following what I was trying to say. “Once, a prized possession until they were no good anymore. Tossed aside because they had become to much of a threat. Sold to the highest bidder.”

Stepping inside, I locked the door behind me. Until yesterday, I had never even considered locking the door. No one seemed to bother me and It wasn’t as if I was worried about my stuff being stolen. None of it actually belonged to me, other than the few items I brought with me. I was sure that no one would try to steal any of that.

Ever since I stepped in here, I’d been holding myself to check on my precious item, fearing the worst. Steadying my stance on the floor, I took one foot unto the medium size stool and then put the other foot until I was able to reach the height of the shelf. There it was. That one precious thing that had been sitting pretty on the shelf. I heaved a sigh of relief but it was only temporary as the shiny blue jug with green and yellow flower pattern that was intricately etched on it reminded me of how something trivial could be worth a person's life all because humans tend to place a high value on it.

Which means she also thought of me when making it. With that evidence, I was sure that I was not only in love alone, but also possibly in love together with Quinn. I cleared my throat to explain to Quinn why the thing she threw away was now in my house and displayed there. "About that stick...." I began. "I found it while visiting your flat. I'm sorry I took it because it had my name on it so I thought it was for me." "It was for you." I really didn't expect Quinn to respond to me and even confirm it. Because I thought she would deny and make other excuses like saying it was actually a gift from my fans that she accidentally brought to deliver to me.

He walked off. His rage was the least of my problems. There were plenty of things to think about. What did Jack know that I didn’t? I knew that my necklace was very important, but what for? I picked it up and looked at it. The star was shining proudly in my hand. What could it possibly be?