Please Throw Me Away Novels & Stories

My voice pitched up "Oh please spare me that trash, I don't have a lot of time to waste here, I am just here to let you know that whenever he is done fucking that pussy you are offering him, he will discard you like every other person, and secondly, I think you should punch your number in here, to understand better what I mean by discarding you like every other person," she winked at me and stretched out her phone towards me, I should not be doing this, but what does she mean? I took her phone, glancing at her as I typed my number into it and handed it to her, she smiled as she pressed something on her phone, and my phone buzzed.

happy? "'Cause it's easier said, it's easier said than done." The song ends and I decide to drive the rest of the way in silence. Three whole months of crying and self-pity might have actually helped. I mean saying I'm over him is completely pushing it but the time off from him made me focus on me.

“Shit, yea. Show me.” She frowned at his curse word, but took out her phone and opened the mail. “Read it aloud,” he said nervously. She took a deep breath and read it. "Hey Terrorist, You’ve had more than enough time to mull over our previous message. But we see you’ve decided not to sway. Valiant. That’s good in a woman such as yourself but dangerous, especially in life or death situation like this. Since we’re much more broad minded than you guys will ever be, we have graced you with a second chance. You can still back out if you want. You’ll be out of danger. Otherwise...

That was the night the thought first came to her, quiet and unwelcome, slipping in somewhere between exhaustion and fear: "What if this problem just went away?" She hated herself the moment she thought it. And then she thought it again anyway. --- She found herself, two nights later, sitting in her car outside a bar on the edge of downtown — the kind of place with blacked-out windows and a name that didn't appear on any map app. She'd heard about it from a girl she used to work with years ago, someone who'd once mentioned, half-joking, that her cousin knew people who could "make problems disappear" for the right price. Chloe hadn't thought about that conversation in years. She thought about

A one-night stand he couldn’t get away from fast enough. I squeezed the note with my hands. “Fucking typical,” I muttered, throwing it in the trash.

"Dad, please! Grandpa gave it to me! If you throw it away, I'll have to do my homework on the floor!" "Memories are burdens," Dad said flatly. "Your grandfather is gone. This desk is nothing more than a piece of furniture that wastes space. Eddie, you have to let it go." I screamed, "No! I won't!" It changed nothing. Mom and Dad lifted the desk together. They were both thin, but whenever it came to throwing things away, they seemed to possess unbelievable strength. They carried the desk out the front door and dumped it beside the neighborhood recycling spot. One of the legs hit the concrete and snapped clean off.

She smiled and held my hand "This is crazy , how am I going to find a guy or a girl who is willing to help me?" "I have a feeling that someone will help you , you don't need to worry about it" "I hope they're an ordinary person , so I can hide and not getting in trouble" I prayed and she chuckled "You worry too much, I'll help you but you need to text me when you're going in a secret text.. text me 'Penguin' and then throw your phone away since we can track you with that" She said and right.. I need to throw my phone away somewhere

" I threw them on the table and sighed. "What the hell is this? Don't they have any work to do other than invading others' privacy? Bloody morons, putting assumptions without any basis."

Everything gets thrown away? I’d rather have nothing to throw. I’d rather live without him than know that one day the past will catch up with us and we’ll lose it all.

I should delete the app, throw the toys in the trash, and move to a farm with no Wi-Fi. But I can't. I’m too deep. The addiction is in my marrow now. My cursor hovers over the Reply button. "I'll be there," I whisper. I type: See you then. And I hit Send.