Mia Sara Young Novels & Stories

They both fit well into that category very easily. "Hello, Mrs. Daughtry, how can I help you tO’Brieny?” Sarah greeted her as she opened the front door. Sarah Michaels, who was better known as princess to everyone who knew her, was already tired from the day and the fighting of herself to even make the online profile. Dealing with her neighbor was not something she wanted to do even on a normal day. Smaller than most women, Sarah only stood barely five feet tall with her boots on. She was slight in build, and though she seemed to not be that strong, she could easily lift her suit when it was pack. The suit weighed eighty-plus pounds easily. Her size often led people to underestimate her, and

I smiled softly, picturing her in that yellow dress she loved, tablet in hand as she raced off again from my bedroom for the twentieth time this morning. But it wasn’t just seeing Mia healthy and full of energy that made my chest feel warm. I looked down at the glossy magazine still on my lap. Sara’s face stared back at me from the cover… confident, radiant, her curls framing her face perfectly under bold letters that read “Rising Star: Sara’s Lens Captures the City’s Soul.”

“Isn’t that a luxury sports car? Oh, god, finally! I see somebody driving that thing. It seems as though the mysterious rich young man has already made an appearance. Why didn’t I approach him earlier? If only I was a step quicker, I would have seen who that rich and young man was. What a waste!” Sara stomped her feet anxiously. Once again, the boat had left the dock, and she missed the opportunity to meet the rich and young man. But then… Something seemed to cross Sara’s mind. She gasped in horror. No! Where was Gerald???

~SARA~ I don’t know if I’m breathing or not. For several seconds, the room goes completely still—everyone frozen mid-motion, stunned. Cold beads of sweat form on my forehead. I tighten my hold around my fork until my knuckles turn white. Clink. Alex drops his cutlery, his brow knitting into a deep frown. He grunts. “Say that again.” “Sara had an abortion,” Mira beams. "When we were in high school.”

she had said and left,she came back some time later with a young Doctor at gun point "Now,you going to help her deliver successful,if anything goes wrong,trust me i will kill you"she warned,the young Doctor had helped all with a gun at his head,the delivery was successful Sara now held the little girl in her arms,she was beautiful but no,they couldn't keep her,looking at her sister who was laying unconscious,she wondered what to do,she couldn't just kill her "What do we do with her?,she asked the young man though she wasnt really expecting a answer,she paced back and fro till she had an idea

S I wanna hear you sing that song ( Please reply, I'll be waiting) Yours, Damien Young I sat shellshock on my bed re-reading the email thrice. He doesn't know that I’m living above him!? I looked over the email for the last time and realised the reason why. MrsYoung@g***l.com is the answer. He was the one who set up my new email account while we were fooling around and I had used that email account to send him a message in my sad, pathetic sorry state which could either be a good or bad thing. Attached to the email is the one I sent him last week. I opened my email and almost cry. From : MrsYoung@g***l.com

As she watches her little girl all grown up pack her things. "Hey, make sure you have everything packed. I don't think you want to get all the way there just to find you forgot something you can't live without." Sara says absentmindedly while staring out the window as her youngest is preparing to move in with her friend a state away.

Sara's gaze darted from one side to the other, as if she were scared that if she revealed who it was then she might be in trouble. “I slipped and hit my head on the washing machine. It was a fatal one,” she said, her face flushed in embarrassment. Yet something inside of me didn’t want to believe her words, this young lady looked sad. “Are you sure?” I asked again, hoping she would say the truth. Instead, Sara cleared her throat and flashed a weak smile my way. “Yes, Luna. It happened because I was lost in my mind and a little bit sad about not having any friends here,” she responded and my brows pinched together.

Sara replied, lifting her face and looking at Nicko sharply. This young man who was hiding his identity only nodded in understanding. Sara Wu's attitude this time said it all. He was sure that Sara was not mean or arrogant like rich women in general. Sara is just an independent woman who has to fight for her daughter, to be both father and mother to her. Sara may have had a bad experience in her life, and made her a cold and resentful woman.