It's Been 84 Years Novels & Stories

, he replied me with a smile " May I know which year is this ?”, I again asked him “ Beautiful lady this is year 1887 and today is date of 19th August and this is Edward mansion in which you are right now”, he replied me again with smile " Is there any lady who can help me here ? “, I again questioned him " Sure I will call my wife Sarah, and she is going to take care of yours as ordered by the master”, he replied again " That will be so great of you so please can you call your wife here ? “, I requested him

As I stared I wondered within me what could possibly make news on such a beautiful day. “Oh! It is the 18th of May” I said to myself as I smiled. This day was of course very special to me and most especially to my best friend Courtney because it was her birthday. Courtney and I had known each other since we were five. They first moved into our neighborhood shortly after Courtney's father(Mr. Williams) lost his job as a bartender because of his ill mannered and insolent behavior 13years ago. On this very special day, I already had Courtney's birthday present well figured out and as always, I was so certain she'd love what I had got her.

one of the men suggested and the other did as asked. "... everyone. It is 10 p.m on Tuesday 14th May, 2021...." I looked at the radio. I couldn't believe it. I had been gone for four years. I suffered in the "safe house" for four long years. I was eighteen now. I was an adult. I thought back to the days when I yearned for this time. For when I'd get old enough to feel like I controlled my life.

I asked him. “1783.”

They stood, staring at the huge building. Miranda and Gerald looked at each other and laughed out loud as if what Estelle said was a joke. “What?” She frowned, confused. Gerald smirked, “Estelle, dear, our Moore has lived for so long. No one knows his actual age and he never told anyone.” “Really? How old is he then?” She had never thought to ask him that. He seemed to be in his mid twenties, late at most. “He was over two hundred years old when Harvey knew him and he had already been living for a long time then.” Miranda continued. Estelle’s eye bulged at the information. Over two hundred! How could someone live that long?

“Finally.” The same year. The same year my father had died. The same year Romano had set up the account. The same year William had finally finished the building my mother would walk past years later and stop at and notice the light. I sat with that. The specific weight of a year that had contained so much without any of the people in it knowing what else it contained. “Eleanor,” I said. “I know,” she said quietly. She’d seen the calculation on my face. “1994,” I said.

It was the kind of exhaustion that arrived when too many pieces suddenly fit together. Lucian remained standing beside the wall map. His attention had not left it for nearly ten minutes. Vivian occupied the same storage crate she had claimed earlier, staring at the date as though it had personally offended her. Mrs. Crawford wandered between tables, occasionally muttering observations that sounded ridiculous until somebody realized she was usually right. The room remained quiet until Lucian finally spoke. "Twenty-eight years ago." Nobody answered immediately. Then Mara nodded. "Yes." He turned toward us. "How old was Arthur then?"

He shouted loudly, trying to catch my attention in the distance. "Explain this to me! Are you all playing some kind of joke on me?!" His outburst drew the attention of nearby guests. But the hall was filled with noise and chatter—his voice never reached me or Devon. Lauren let out a cold laugh and sneered, "What's there to explain? Mason, do you even know how many chances Madison gave you? Can you count them? For eight years, she guarded your promise and waited. You didn't want to get married—that's your business. But what right did you have to make her wait for a ninth year?