Misfits Novels & Stories

People watch me as I pass, some with open curiosity, others with barely concealed amusement. They look like they know who I am, and they know what I did in the past. And none of them look like they're in any hurry to welcome me. The unity between these so-called Misfits is one of a kind. They're all acting against me. They're all doing the same thing their Alpha is doing to me—ignoring me.

The specific stack of files that represented the Beaumont standard being applied in Louisiana in real time. He showed me a case file. A woman named Marcelline. Forty-two years old. Out for eight months. Three license applications denied on grounds that were the direct product of her conviction. Each denial blocking something specific. The driver's license for the job that required driving. The food handler's license for the kitchen work she had been offered. The nursing assistant certification for the care facility that had indicated interest. Three licenses. Three direct products of the conviction. Three barriers to the employment that was itself the central goal of reentry.

At a gathering with friends, my boyfriend, Donovan McPherson, suggested we play a game of “I Have, Have You?” The winner would get to make one request of him. Everyone there knew I had been trying to get him to make me, Celeste Campbell, Mrs. McPherson for five years, and for as long he had not obliged. Now they all assumed he was giving me a chance. So, tacitly aligned, everyone held back to let me win. But his childhood sweetheart, Lily Kensington, would not relent. “Donovan watched the first snowfall with me. “He gave me a scarf he knitted with his own hands. “The tattoo on his wrist is my initials. “His passenger seat is permanently adjusted to fit my height.” After those four, I had onl

This is a story about a boy and a girl who tries too hard to fit into their group of friends but constantly failed. And when they found each other, they finally find a place they can fit into. The only mistake they made was that they broke themselves trying to fix each other.

All because of one mistake I didn't even do. Now, all I have left is myself. I became a bitch, a slut as most call it. A whore who sells herself for drugs to keep me sane. The Mansion I once lived now turned into a sewage-like place. Nothing but scraps on the table, waking up every day and feeling the same. Asking myself over and over, "When did my life become such a mess?". The beauty men once adored is now slowly fading.

Soceity was men and women who never learned to mind their own business and stuck their mouth in the affairs of others and turned molehills into high ice peaked mountains. I worried about my reputation and what people would say about me, what they would do if another scandalous untrue news came out of me being salacious came out. It would ruin Ma and Kawu, so I took a decision and tried to find a husband. I told everyone I knew what my specifications were and Yaana sent me my spec. Hard to believe but true. Hard to believe but truer than the fact that I'm a Bakura and I've never known nor noticed, truer than the fact that I'm not even a Sheriff.

The two flew in silence for a while before Shobek decided to get her mind on something else, "The place we are going to is going to look much nicer than what you have seen so far. Each person there isn't evil, but not all of them are entirely good. They are constantly replaying their lives over and over. Though they don't know that. This is why talking to them is strictly forbidden. They won't take notice of you unless you make contact first. So no matter what, don't touch anyone or talk to anyone." Kasey frowned, "they are reliving their lives?" Shobek hesitated, "more like they are repeating scenarios of their lives. They repeat the same scenario until they finally do something different,

the first mate said with a snarl before turning to his men and adding, “Take ‘em both below to the ‘old and keep ‘em there ‘til I tell ya different.” If Elizabeth thought that no greater degradation could have been bestowed upon her than the recent rape by one of the filthiest bodies she ever encountered, she was wrong. The sneers and comment of the crew and a few fellow passengers as she was pushed and shoved through them, with her hair in total disarray and her torn clothing askew, felt like humbling spears being tossed at her from all directions. Her humiliation from the gasps made by the few notable passengers as they stared at her unkempt appearance and listened to the explanation of wh

A low-life hood…I feel so useless…Misunderstood…Mirror, mirror on the wall…Who's the baddest of them all…Welcome to my wicked world, wicked world…I'm rotten to the core, core…Rotten to the core…I'm rotten to the core, core…Who could ask for more…I'm nothing like the kid next, like the kid next door…I'm rotten to the, I'm rotten to the…I'm rotten to the core…Call me a schemer…Call me a freak…How can you say that…I'm just unique…“ She turned to the camera and gave it a smirk and small shoulder shrug before she went back to killing the rouges and hunters that filled the place ”What, me a traitor…Ain't got your back…Are we not friends..What's up with that…So I'm a misfit..So I'm a flirt…I broke

I don't know if they are fooling me or not, because if I am the one being asked, they are better than me. “But you know what Cas, Thria is right. You're a goddess. You're even more beautiful than Artaya. Right, Thea?" Andromeda said. Artaya? Who's Artaya? "I agree. Hiro's best friend is Artaya, and she's a bitch, so I don't like her.” So he has a best friend. And what's her name again? Artaya? "Cassandra shouldn't be nervous because Hiro is so in love with her," Thria said, and the two agreed.