Messy Mya Novels & Stories

Christian said. "Then what's the fun of it if it is minimal?" Tyler smirked. "I give up." Christian murmured. **** Makaila got to her house in the evening, wet sneakers on one hand, bag and roller skates in the other. She entered the house and saw it was a mess, indicating that her dad had a party, again. She saw him sitter on the couch watching a TV station and started to walk pass him. "Hey, come back here." His deep voice snapped. Makaila stopped and turned to him.

Maya beneath me, both of us half-dressed and desperate, like our bodies knew something our minds hadn't figured out yet. My laptop sat open on the bed, I*******m still pulled up. I'd been scrolling through Maya's posts earlier like some kind of masochist. Most of them were her work—glass beads catching light, metal twisted into impossible shapes. A few from the foundation launch. One of her and Troy, both of them covered in paint from setting up an installation. She looked happy in that one. Genuinely, unselfconsciously happy. I closed the laptop. * * *

" NO MESSY! MARK TOLD ME EVERYTHING! YOU FOOLED ME! YOU'RE JUST PRETENDING!! " " NO! NO! NOOOOOOO!!!! " Messy holds her head, pulled her hair like she's being crazy. " This can't be! THIS CAN'T BE!! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING AGAIN!! NNOOOO!! " Messywail to herself, whispering. Messy looked at where Alexia, Xandra, and Xander are talking to each other. Messy looked at her brother then she saw Xander and Xandra running away. Alexia turned around to her. She saw how Messy rushed into the table to pick up the gun on it.

After leaving that city, I traveled to a coastal town in the south. Here, there was no influence of the Payne family or any spies from the Sweeney family. I rented a small apartment by the sea and fell asleep listening to the sound of the waves every day. My baby was eight months along. I hired an excellent local nanny and arranged everything in advance. I was no longer the Sweeney family's heiress, nor was I Cameron's wife. I was just Hazel Sweeney, a woman about to become a mother.

Mystica has left behind a list of instructions on what should happen to her, and her things, upon her death. I swallow thickly as Hestia motions for me, Maddox, Ben, and Poppy to sit down at the table, which is littered with papers and small wooden boxes. Mystica had a ton of stuff, which I find interesting. Especially since she came from Maatua with practically nothing. I peer into the boxes, seeing a random assortment of things like dried flowers, bones, rocks, and twigs. Strange. But, Mystica was an odd duck, so I can’t be that surprised.

How could she not understand that I needed to be close to her? The cottage was completely chaotic. None of us seem to have our sanities in check. In this brawling love, Mikayla's scent both calmed and agitated me. My shifting mid-rampage wrecked my room and not one décor, furniture or appliance was not smashed. I suspect that Axel’s room was a destructive replica of mine.

Ash looked at her in confusion. " what? do you think I can bring a fifty kg rock by myself? come ya, " Maya said as Ash smiled; this was going to be the first time, he will get help from someone. " you are one of a kind huh? " Ash commented as they looked around for any heavy rocks. " what do you mean? " Maya asked balancing herself on the slippery mud. Ash held her hand as he replied, " usually girls do not like to be in this kind of situations, you know they would ask help and all, Even Azora does that, "

CLARA'S POV “Clara??!!!” Ma'am Irene called. “Yes ma'am, I am coming!!!” I yelled as I let go of what I was doing in the living room and went into the kitchen. “Please help me flip that pie over so it won't get burnt.” She said. “Okay ma'am.” I said. Ma'am Irene was busy in the kitchen making some pie and Italian sauce while I was in the living room cleaning it. It's been two days since Arsenio's disagreement on not ever wanting a child and he had successfully avoided me like a plague in two days.

Before entering the school, I heard a few things about this mysterious place situated on the mountainous side of Mystic Heights, a city in the heart of London. Mystic Academy, as it was known, was a mixed school primarily for kids with some uniqueness from wealthy homes. The requirements to get in seemed unattainable for mere humans, as I learned. It had a reputation as a school for "freaks," and the general belief was that only freaks would gain admission. That label didn't bother me much, considering I'd been called a freak all my life by my stepmother and her children—even their friends. My stepmother often locked me up in the cellar, praying for God to unpossess me, as she believed I was

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," greeted Bisila, her eyes catching on the fact that she was the lady of the house, which was fortunately correct. "Who is this weirdly dressed girl in our house?" asked Ms. James with an air in her eyes. Ms. James looked like a very elegant, blonde woman who was majestically built. She had very bright blue eyes that commanded attention. She wore a distinguished shade of nail polish, specially stocked for her from London. Her long black hair gave her a distinguished, mischievous appearance, and she always stood tall to confront anything that threatened her luxurious lifestyle.