In Another Life Fan Art Novels & Stories

APRIL In my next life, I’d either come as a monarch’s favorite tea cup, or not come at all. All because this life was started to feel far too gloomy and devastating to live through. If my first life was this tedious, why would I consent to another one? No bloody way. Aren’t you being a little too dramatic? came my subconscious’s snarky interruption.

Back then, I'd been brave and filled with love, and it was only now that I realized this song was a hymn to love itself and not a tribute to William. When the last note ended, Lucas clapped wildly and even pulled out a pen and paper to ask for my autograph. His antics made me laugh. "I'll write you a new song." The one I'd written for William didn't suit him. He suited something bright and cheerful, like a boy who never knew sorrow. Lucas recorded my performance. "Let's start a YouTube channel. I'm sure people will love your music." I looked out the window, where the sun was shining bright. It was a beautiful day. "Sounds great."

May we be family again in another life. I floated in front of the graves, reading those words. Silent tears slid down my cheeks as I thought, 'Another life? If there truly is another life, I would not want to be your brother again.'

Shelly POV When I got home, I found Shaina sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by crayons and a half-finished drawing. “Hey, sweetheart,” I said, setting my purse down. “What are you working on?” “It’s us,” she said, holding up the paper. I knelt beside her to get a better look. The drawing showed the two of us holding hands under a bright yellow sun. Beside us was another figure—taller, with dark hair. “Who’s that?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat. “That’s Spencer,” she said matter-of-factly. “He’s nice. I think he should be our friend.”

Every day at lunchtime, I remember our moments together. Even here, a million miles away, she plagues me. Gianna! Maybe this is part of my penance; this suffering is worse than any death. It's like dying slowly, bit by bit every day—sort of like what I'd done to Felice and what I plan to do to the others. So maybe I was paying for my sins while here, so I won't have to pay for them in my next life. Please find me in your next life, Gianna! I'll wait for you there. ***

He only looked cruel and cold. When I arrived at Mirelle's grave, I saw gardenias laid in front of the stone. They were her favorite flower, symbolizing eternal waiting. Was it Hudson? I looked around, hopeful. But there was no one. I was alone and lonely there. Maybe I was wrong. Hudson was probably off comforting Quincey. I let out a bitter laugh and buried Pixie next to Mirelle. "Mirelle, look. You're not alone anymore. Pixie's here to keep you company. Don't worry. I'll take good care of Hudson."

That even on the days I wanted to give up, the story—and the characters—kept pulling me back. Thank you for walking this journey with me. Thank you for laughing with them, crying with them, and believing in them even when the odds were stacked against them. There will be a sequel — The Life of Jeffrey and Annitore. If you want to see Annitore the monster who gave up her immortality for the man she loves, who later fell in love with the version of her that he created, and also how Jeffrey's powers are harnessed, please leave a comment and let me know. Your words mean everything to a first-time author like me.

There were almost translucent apparitions cutting away from the painting, with one visible pair of brown eyes looking back at the earth, with sadness imprinted in that gaze. It was a tad intriguing because both the earth and the top of the painting signified demise to Anders, yet it felt like his eyes preferred the earth. He thought the top of the board offered much more—the possibility of still being present in some way. Call it selfish or sick, but Anders had never wavered on his standing.

We’d have to hand in our masterpieces. We were asked by Mr. Atkins to express, in whatever form, the meaning of life…our lives. My art piece was a little bit dark and sad. It was a combination of colors and hues in an abstract form. Greens, violets, and oranges mixed beautifully on the canvas. Somewhere there was a tree, somewhere there was a boy standing at the end of a road. I liked to think it was Thomas. Waiting there for me. The only reason why I was able to move on. He was gone, but I lived. And I would keep on living for both of us. “Mr. Cross submitted his work earlier this week. He won’t be able to make it to class today,” Mr. Atkins announced.

“It’s alright. I had some hiccups, though—nothing bad. My partner for the project just isn’t who I would have chosen as my first choice.” “Is she bad or something? I thought you had to be good to get into the competition.” The question itself was purely innocent, but I couldn’t help but laugh at the slight jab my aunt was throwing towards Craig. “No, no I mean he’s great—I mean d*mn, I saw his art piece the other day and I,” I scoffed out a laugh at how ridiculous I knew I was about to sound. “It sounds crazy but he created this image of a wolf standing beside a girl, and I saw myself in it.”