Novel & Cerita I Thought It Was A Common Possession

"You will die here. And your fucking wild rutt of a mate is dying right now in the depths of jungles of this city. I am not fucking stupid to leave a fucking mated wolf to track me down for killing his mate." He picked up an iron rod, at the of which was a heavy metal containing screws and iron plates attached, something like it was pulled out of a vehicle, a heavy truck, belonging in a garage. Some rust was covering it from the tip to the end. I had never seen it at our home, ever. He had brought it with himself. He had planned everything. Mason swung it left and right in the air in front of my eyes, making me aware that he wanted to see the fear of upcoming death in my eyes.

Some of her belongings were gone—they weren’t something the police would take interest on. They were personal belongings. Someone came into her room and it wasn’t the police. Trying to shove off the silly idea ringing through her mind. It was impossible. The idea found its way back into her mind. They were something a stalker would want to take. ******** Thanks for reading. Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it.

Nothing worth thinking about twice. It became a pattern instead. His door started opening a beat after mine, every single morning, like some internal clock in him had synced itself to my routine without either of us agreeing to it. I told myself it meant nothing. I told myself a lot of things that week, most of which I didn't fully believe even as I was thinking them.

********************* ************************* "It's not me! This necklace isn't mine! And I don't know who owned this! I don't know!" "It's not me! This necklace isn't mine! And I don't know who owned this! I don't know!" "It's not me! This necklace isn't mine! And I don't know who owned this! I don't know!" "It's not me! This necklace isn't mine! And I don't know who owned this! I don't know!" "It's not me! This necklace isn't mine! And I don't know who owned this! I don't know!"

"Huwag kang tumingin sa kanila, Ivy. You are the only one. You are the final version." "Are we, Dante?" I whispered, watching a 'failed Ivy' stare at her own hands with the same confusion I felt. "O baka naman sunod na rin tayo sa kanila?" The insecurity was a suffocating weight. How could I believe I was special when a hundred versions of me had already been discarded? Every time Dante looked at me with that suffocating obsession, I felt like a piece of property he was trying to keep from being reclaimed by the warehouse.

Tea, and the blue mug in pieces across the floor — the one Benjamin had given me weeks ago, the one everyone in this pack knew was mine. I understood exactly what everyone was about to think.

Even though she thought, what if someone found her and stole her? Even though she knew it was unlikely: a thief would only look inside the house, not look for anything in the yard, but the thought doesn't go away. Even if part of it is possessiveness, since the box is hers, even if part of it is her wanting the chocolates, most of it has to do with the buttons. It would be impossible for a common thief to see them, even wonder what they were for and squeeze them. So, what would happen? Even if especially if he pressed the black one.

The day when the common kitchen was finished I stood in it for about ten minutes. I thought about my father. About what he'd been trying to build. About the difference between a monument and a tool and why the difference mattered and who it mattered for. The common kitchen was going to be used by pack members hosting events and teaching sessions and doing the ordinary cooking of community life. It was going to smell like other people's food and be cleaned by rotating crews and have the particular warmth of spaces that exist for general use. It was going to be exactly right. He would have stood in it for about ten minutes.

Everything that has life is bound to die and be reborn again . Money has always been a possession that has controlled the person who attained it to acquire something , tangible or physical . As you grow older you realise that what you possess shouldn’t control you ,and you should control what you possess to attain something that can keep s on giving and gives in return .

“Just mine.” All my life, I’ve always been used to sharing things. Sharing a room with the other consorts, sharing a bathroom with the other consorts, sharing affection from professors with the other consorts. Everything, I’ve learned to share. Everything I’ve learned to just give away without making a big deal out of it. And now for the first time, in a long while, I have something that’s truly just mine. Something that was made by the Moon Goddess herself. Just for me. All for me.