My Life Stories Novels & Stories

Every person has his or her own purpose in life. That each of us has a specific reason why we were born. There are moments when life would make it hard for us to understand our purpose. And there are also times when everything may seem to be working in our favor. The bottom line is we all have our own stories to tell. And it’s up to us if we want it to end as a happy story, a sad story, or a tragedy. Because we are the only ones who have the power to decide on how our story goes.

I needed to prepare my mind for the worse, so I took a deep breath in and released it as a sigh. “My life wasn't always so easy, I had to fight for everything, my life included ,” I said as I chewed on the watermelon and popped out the seeds. “Whoa, tell me about it, this story is starting to get really interesting. Were you born into a conglomerate family with so many rival uncles and cousins? ” she asked and I'd never seen a human be so interested in someone else's tragedy, but then, Stella was not just any human.

The only emotions I've ever felt in my life are hate,revenge,and lust. Have I ever loved someone? Yeah,I have. Once. Parents suck. Well mine did. "Theresa, people from my book club want to meet you. Make yourself presentable." "Theresa,I need you to dress up. My business partner is almost here and he's bringing his son. Make yourself presentable." I'm always presentable! They just never seem to be satisfied. Theresa do this, Theresa do that. I have my own life to live. I wasn't born to please them.

"Her books was published It's all nice! I read the story of My Life is miserable, almost all of her stories, only the new book. I didn't read it because I didn't know that she have released a new story." "You're so noisy, Arche! Just turn off the TV and then just tell the whole story! Bro, be quiet there, is that a clear, trouble maker?" Jasper said to Arche and their companions laughed, except for Haru, who suddenly spoke. "The only difference between the two is that they are very simple. In this story of my life is miserable, Her life are without happiness, she would rather disappear from the world she live in. Because she will not experience of joy. She experiences sadness, pain, and fr

“I told you, I won’t force you.” “But we must, I mean we can’t fake the-” “We’ll mark each other. It'll be enough to sustain our story. I know how you feel about it, but the mark will fade away eventually. We'll renew it once in a while.” By the end of this talk, he was only in his underwear. A small whimper escaped my mouth causing me to slap a hand over it. His laugh filled the room. Despite the turmoil of emotions that were ravaging my mind, I couldn’t deny the fact that his body was nothing less than perfect.

Part 1 Alot of people have different life tale, I have read many and never thought I will one day tell mine here for others to read. I have held back for so long and Just felt is time to let my pain out. I will start right from when it all began. I came from a loving home, my parents were awesome when it comes to caring for us. I'm the first child and have younger siblings. A sister Lucia and two brothers. My parents were young and love each other before getting married.

I admitted. “Good. Because we have a proposition.” She put down the towel. “The school is doing a ‘Life Stories’ unit next semester. Not from a history book, but from real people. LJ and I were wondering… would you consider coming to talk to the seniors? Not about the foundation or the trials or any of that. Just… about change. About how a person can live a dozen different lives in one lifetime.” I stared at her, the soapy glass in my hand forgotten. “Talk to a bunch of teenagers? About my life? They’d be asleep in five minutes.”

And I wondered, as our eyes met, if the next story I have to tell in my life is the one of her firing me. I was in love with stories. How they shape our lives. How they mark people who don’t even know us. How they can impact us even when an event didn’t exactly occur in our own lives. The first things I ever fell in love with were the words my mother and grandmother told me about my dad. In those words I got what I didn’t have in real life—a dad. I would collect them into groups, memorize the stories they formed. Where he’d taken my mother on their first date, if his laugh was funny, what his favorite beverage was. I grew up in love with stories and with all the facts and details that enable

Thank you very much, but no thanks. However, if the same person had told me that I would have been writing the first draft of my own life's story that has just been out of a deadly roller coaster ride, I would have probably rolled over the floor laughing my ass off and if the person had told me that I would be writing about *gulp* my Ex-boyfriend cum fiance: (the hotshot asshole for a young billionaire) this would have surely triggered a full-time hysteria. For more than half of my life, I was anything, but a storyteller. The most phenomenal achievement in my 'writing career has been a bronze in the Essay Writing Competition' in grade four. Now, it doesn't necessarily mean that I am skill-l

I love stories a lot. Do you? Since I have been writing this diary of my life, I have been able to create wonderful stories that has touched both of us deeply. Do you agree? Now, I ask, who doesn’t love a short love story about meeting random people? Especially the very unique ways that people can get connected together without putting much efforts.