Mabel Juice Novels & Stories

she said while staring at her other half. "Wait for right time." A voice ringed again letting Mabel to wait for infinite times....................... As Mabel came out of the washroom, she had a bandage around her neck. It was the only first aid available in her home. She was used to this kind of pain anyway, it wasn't a great of a problem for her. She quickly got dressed and walked out of her room. Thankfully her dad was already out of home... After a while she reached to a gate and there in a huge board the name was written 'Blue-moon child care'. She took a long sigh and entered the building in front of her.

I chipped. A flicker beneath her eyes said she didn't buy. But she nodded, “Of course. When is Ruth's hearing?” We headed inside and lounged by the poolside. A soft jazz played as Alec's butler served us freshly made fruit juice. Alec's phone rang, and he excused himself to take it. “Congratulations, Mabel. Hopefully, Angelina takes the cue and backs off forever,” Ruth chimed. I let out a deep breath. “I hope so too.”

But then again, shouldn’t Mabel be the one getting voodooed? She closed her eyes and wiped the last of her tears away. It was late in the afternoon when she woke up. A bowl of cold porridge sat on her nightstand, next to an apple and a smoothie. She still didn’t have an appetite, but she didn’t want to worry her family any more than she already had, so she forced herself to eat. Then she picked up her phone, which she’d barely touched in days. Missed calls, text messages, and social media notifications filled the screen. It was fully charged—her sister must have been charging it for her while she slept.

What eyes full of life! - What kind of juice do you want to drink? asks the stewardess softly, leaning over and looking at the pretty little girl. Julie blinks and points to the green bottle. - It's a kiwi juice that will be a little sour, says the stewardess. Maybe Julie isn't afraid to taste something sour. So she nods her head in affirmation. The stewardess gives her a glass of kiwi juice. Maybe because Julie is too cute, the stewardess asks her:

Mabel asked. " chicken soup?" Carl asked. " trust me Carl. You want to taste that. Mabel makes the best chicken soup ever. I'll drink it but right now I'm sleepy" I said, leaving the room. " then I guess I'll try that." I heard Carl say. " great. Give me 5 minutes " she said, standing up. Nudging me by the shoulder, Mabel winked at me. I scoffed. This girl still had time to think dirty thoughts.... I shared my head and walked into my room.

When that didn’t work, I dragged myself downstairs to the kitchen, hoping food or water would help. The smell of coffee and toast filled the air, and Mabel was already there, perched on the counter, scrolling through her phone. She glanced up when she heard me walk in, her lips curling into an amused smirk. “Having a migraine, huh?” she teased. I winced at the brightness of the kitchen lights. “I didn’t even realize I drank that much.” Mabel chuckled. “Oh, you did. You were the life of the party, babe. At some point, you were dancing on a table.”

Jasper could only make a guess. “Are you guys in trouble?” Mabel whispered. “Don’t worry, Madam. Everything is fine. We’re just acting along in a play,” Summer comforted her, telling her not to worry. “During this time, take good care of yourself, alright?” Mabel nodded. After all, Mabel was once the target of those who wanted to kidnap and hurt her, but they did not succeed. “Don’t worry, they won’t be able to defeat me." Mabel looked proud.

Juicy put her hand on her hips and tapped her foot in annoyance, staring at everyone in the room until they averted their eyes. She continued, despite the fact that she had no one to focus her anger on. "And first of all; those are not from a box or from the corner store. Those are fresh made. Second; fresh blueberries cost good money when people gotta be pigs about things!" Juicy put her hands back into the woman's hair. She pulled the comb through tensely. "So, if you all get hungry then you need to just pack a damn lunch, shit." She mumbled.

“I have to go now.” “Okay. Bye. Love you!” But I hung up before I could say it back. My cheeks were pink. I stared into the mirror and muttered, “Victoria… what is wrong with you? Get your head back in the game.” I opened the door. “Good morning, ma’am. It’s lovely to have you back!” Mabel beamed, holding a silver tray like it carried treasure, and honestly—it did. On the tray was a tall glass of orange juice, a pot of French-pressed coffee, scrambled eggs with flecks of chive, smoked salmon, cream cheese croissants, a small fruit tart, and a stack of delicate pancakes with warm maple syrup on the side.