Novel & Cerita Les Miserables

Their fate might be worse than that of the Parisis. ****************************************************************************

Mister Andrews opened the door for her, wide eyes to see her standing outside. “Milady, what do we owe this visit?” he asked. “Uh… is this a crucial time?” “No, not at all. Please give me a moment to announce your--” “Who is at the door, Mr. Andrews?” Felius’ voice she could hear interrupting her and Mr. Andrews. “It’s Charles’ girlfriend, sir.” “Oh! Let her in!”

The pain in my chest was daggering at the strike of her words, but she was right. I was greeted by Benji holding the car door open and an umbrella over his head, sheltering him from the pelting of the thick rain drops. "Motel on Gretna Benji, and put a step on it. I'm late," he closed the door behind me, then began making his way to the driver's side.

The moon's faint glow passed through them, coloring them white from grey. The cool monsoon air carried a sweet moist scent like a candy shop kept inside a refrigerator. The pattering of the rain, which was now deaf to ears, was interrupted time by time during the night. Once a car passed by. Stray dogs began barking, while the deafening music from the car echoed around the street. The car soon disappeared and the dogs stopped barking satisfied that they had scared the car away. Later, a taxi came down the road and parked. A bunch of young kids came out laughing emphatically. The taxi drove away but the children stood at the corner of the lane, yet laughing vigorously. A man screeched out fro

Jeannine had a sudden urge to pee as she held her briefcase close. “Let this be a lesson to you, little plaçage,” said the cabbie. “Take nothing at face value. Remember this. You will be in N’Orleans soon enough. The waters will speak to you, if you pay attention. The trees and the creatures will flatter you with lies. But hidden among those lies are whispers of truth. Listen to the whispers of the bayou, and you might just make it out alive.” The cabbie removed his hat, revealing two round wounds, one above each eye socket, filled with maggots.

This morning I take my time getting ready with a faint smile on my lips. I often wonder when I'm smiling whether I'm allowed to with the thoughts swirling round in my head. How can I appear happy when in reality I'm miserable? I've always prided myself in my smile being the only thing Trevor cannot take away from me and despite the hell inside my mind, that won't change. This particular morning, my smile doesn't last long. I glance around the kitchen, letting out a small sigh. The stench in here is almost unbearable and I try to ignore the rubbish littering the floors.

She clearly hadn’t expected me, the person she could always manipulate so easily, to refuse being controlled this time. A flash of malice crossed her eyes before she pointed at me and exploded. “Sadie, how can you accept them? You have no shame at all! Taking handouts from people like this makes you no different from a beggar on the street!”

Gothic spires of crystallized regret pierced the low sky, and distant screams echoed faintly, swallowed by the endless mist. As they traveled deeper, fragments began surfacing in Roberto’s mind. A woman singing softly, her voice warm and lilting, fingers brushing through a young boy’s hair. *His mother.* Then the same woman crying in the dark, shoulders shaking as she clutched a small wooden cross. Francesco’s voice, sharp and furious, shouting commands that made the house feel smaller. A locked door at the end of a long hallway. Pounding fists. A muffled scream that tore through the silence.

[Christmas] It is almost getting dark when I decided that I will go home. I wasn't in myself while the maid is taking me to the gate. I still don't have no reply from him and I didn't text him again or call him because I already done it many times. "Take care, Miss Christmas," said of the maid as she closed back the gate. "Thanks," I only said and looked at my watch. It's already 5:30 p.m. and I have to walk a little to find a cab to ride.

She quoted words from a romance movie she watched a thousand times for her vows. Victor's wavy black hair was gel to the back, his grey suit hugged his body, his brown eyes deceivingly looked pure. He had a slim thick structure, 5'9 ft tall, broad shoulders and bow legs. Damn his figure was perfect. His smile was perfect, everything about his outward appearance was breathtaking. He would have fooled anyone and is fooling everyone. They say the devil was one handsome geek. Expecting anything else from a money hungry, manipulative billionaire was the worst thing she ever did.