John Doe Unordinary Novels & Stories

"I see. One more question. Why is he called John Doe? Sounds awkward." "Yeah, it does," Nick agrees and looks at Dom. Dom says, "Funny thing is, that's his birth name. You should see the pictures of Mr and Mrs Doe. He doesn't look anything like them." "Well, thank you, gentlemen." They get up. We shake hands. I watch them walk out the door. Then AI run my hands through my black hair that is now shooting out strands like Rapunzel's cornrows. Taking a look at John's progress report, I mark out the words: unhinged, delusional, demented, lunatic, and clairvoyant.

"What's the first thing we do when we unpack?" "We buy the simplest, most inexpensive fabric couch we can find," Portia murmured smoothly, her voice dropping into a tender, fierce register that carried an absolute, sacred weight. "And then, I am going to hold your hand in the daylight every single day, without a single piece of campus armor, and without a single camera watching us."

Walking down the corridor, Unise had the urge to cry but she didn’t want to as she was not that type of girl. All her relationships always failed, was it because she was too straightforward? Did guys like shy and innocent types, she once felt something for Noah but later realized that Noah will always love Kimberly and she won't be a second choice to anyone. Then she met Mr. Johnson who had the look, body, and money…he was able to make her whole family smile at dinner and that made her happy but she got to discover that he was building the most dangerous weapon in history. All government authorities will try stopping him if they found out about it, maybe the ones who attacked him yesterday a

Two weeks had passed quickly and there was no sign of the Duke. London was bustling and it seemed to Sara as if the days had flown by in a blur of activity and excitement. She was waiting for Steve to come but he never came. Sara had hope, he was the only person that could save her from her impending doom. Ever since her uncle showed her to society, business was going well. Families brought gifts and wanted to be in his good books, so one of their sons could have Sara for a wife.

I understood when people were lying even when their words sounded perfect. I knew when Emily was pretending not to care. I knew when Mom was worried despite her smile.vI knew when Dad was angry before his voice changed. Those things didn't make headlines. They wouldn't make scientists fight over access to my brain. But they were mine. And I was beginning to understand that being the ordinary one didn't mean being the lesser one. It meant I had room to become something nobody had predicted. I didn't know what that something would be yet. I only knew that I wanted to find out. Meanwhile, back home, three four-year-olds were having a very different conversation. They had gathered in the library

I'm trying to convince myself to be cautious and not take Liam's drunk words seriously, but I can't help but hold onto hope that his feelings might be genuine. And because I woke up early, I decided to go for a jog. I suddenly missed sweating in the morning. I wore a simple hooded jacket, black leggings, and a pair of sneakers. I also brought my cellphone and wireless earphones so I could listen to music while jogging. As I jogged around the area, I was mesmerized by the sights around me. There were large houses and towering trees, especially pine trees, which signaled that I was in a cool place. The sun's rays hit my face, but I felt the chill of the air more. There were also others jogging

"This isn't the place for your little fits." Beside him, the Consigliere Dario Zanon leaned lazily against the back of his chair, revealing the double-gun skull tattoo on his arm. "What's the matter, Camilla?" he asked calmly. "Is there something you're unhappy about? "Or do you think that after five years of hard work for the family, you still haven't received a share of the family trust fund, and that's why you're making a scene here? Have you ever stopped to consider your own worth?"

You are brilliant. At twenty one, I had been a junior at NYU, I was broke, nervous and desperate for something to go right. The internship had been a miracle to me. Paid, prestigious, with a line on my resume that paved the way for me. The kind of thing that could change everything. And it did. Then, I never thought twice about the anonymous donor. I just signed the papers, whispered a thank you to no one, and cried quietly in a library bathroom. But now the donor had a name. A face.

"How about some breakfast, Nysaa? It's important to keep your strength up." Nysaa, still somewhat disoriented and groggy from her experience, didn't even notice the journal or Dr. Ruiz's curious discoveries. She simply nodded in agreement, silently grateful for her therapist's support, and they continued to navigate the challenging journey of Nysaa's recovery together.

But before either of us could react, a voice rang out from behind us, sending a chill down my spine. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? If it isn't the two lovebirds. Then who else would it be?" The voice was familiar, and dread washed over me as I slowly turned around to face the source. There stood Fredo, his menacing presence casting a shadow over us. In his human form, he held a gun pointed directly at my forehead. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt a cold sweat break out across my skin. Jace immediately shifted back into his human form, his naked body a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere surrounding us. With a stern gaze, he addressed Fredo, his voice steady despite the