Post Colonial

For eight long years, Bryan Millan and I were married, but you’d never have known it by looking at his life. He never once acknowledged our relationship in public. Not a single post, not a single mention of me on his social media. Then came our anniversary. The day that was supposed to be about us. Instead, Bryan made an announcement on his Instagram account—just not the one I expected. There he was, hand in hand with his assistant, her draped in a wedding dress. The caption read: [When you're in love, you want the whole world to know.] The comments flooded in. [Bryan finally got married!] [Congrats! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together!] In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. Bryan wasn't reserved. He just never loved me. So, I decided to let go. But he wasn't ready for that. He clung to me, desperate now. But I pried his hands off and laughed—a real, genuine laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside when you realize you're finally free. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and said the words I'd been holding in, "Don't beg me to come back. Because now that I don't love you, I've never felt better."

When a pampered socialite in post civil war Boston seeks adventure and romance, she finds peril, heartache, and tragedy along with it. Answering an ad in The Matrimonial News, she secretly marries by proxy, but is widowed before she gets to meet her husband. The fact that she's naïve and unskilled in the ways of love when she finally encounters the man of her dreams only adds to her situation.

The eighth time I proposed to Jason, he shut me down cold and indifferent, just like all the times before. He said he needed more time, and I was ready to keep waiting. However, out of nowhere, I saw a post on social media. He and my sister went and got their marriage certificate. When I confronted him, Jason was perfectly calm. "Tessa is pregnant and needs to avoid stress. Stop causing trouble for no reason!” Both were wearing wedding rings in the photo. Her baby bump was already starting to show. Something inside me just went quiet. I gave the post a like and left a comment. [Wishing you a lifetime of happiness and love!] A year later, Jason came to see me. He looked tired and defeated, asking to get back together. By then, I was already visibly pregnant. Before I could say a word, his best friend stepped forward with a smile and pushed him back. “Come on, man. The baby’s almost here. My wife already has a husband. She does not need a backup.”

Do you want the physical copy of the series to read ahead? Search Dark Blood Series/Taylor Walker Dark Blood on Amazon. £2.00-£6.00. My name is Killian Saunders. I started off as a normal teenager living a normal life until now. I’ve been pushed from pillar to post, investigation after investigation to find the main problem with my mental health. I live in the psychiatric part of the hospital because I can be a possible threat to everyone around me. But the main problem is, nothing is helping me. No one is helping me. I have no relationship with my family anymore and I’m losing everyone I need and trust. But I feel its going to be too late until I get the help that I need. It won’t be long until I’m not me... it won’t be long until I turn into the monster I fear the most.

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.

Le troisième jour de mon confinement postnatal, mon mari prétendait qu’il devait partir en voyage d’affaires en urgence, me laissant seule pour m’occuper du bébé. Trois jours plus tard, lorsque j’ai été hospitalisée, j’ai vu une photo de famille sur les réseaux sociaux, publiée par l’amie d’enfance de mon mari, avec la légende : « Photo prise en voyage, une famille heureuse de trois. » Sur la photo, mon mari s’est affiché tout sourire. Fort surprise, j’ai commenté par un point d’interrogation. Il m’a immédiatement appelée pour me réprimander : « Elle est une pauvre mère célibataire, sans homme pour s’occuper d’elle. Cette photo ne signifie rien. Ne sois pas mesquine ! » Le soir, son amie d’enfance a posté une nouvelle photo : un ensemble de trois bijoux en or d’une valeur de plusieurs millions. « Après la photo de famille, il a insisté pour m’offrir ces magnifiques bijoux. » C’était un cadeau pour faire plaisir à sa maîtresse, je le savais bien. Enfin, j’ai décidé de quitter mon mari.

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"

Hatred is one of the biggest issue that everyone is dealing right now where we're all living in the contemporary world. Also forgiveness doesn't exist if we committed a mistake from someone who doesn't want us to be forgiven. Each one of us hated a one person and maybe some of us wish them to bury in dead. We didn't want them to know that we hated them, so we're showing it by avoiding to see them everyday. But, Calvorie University has it's own facebook page to help everyone to say their feelings inside for someone that they hate. The school organization letting them to post a kind of racy video, scandal video, embarrassing video of someone that the sender of the message hated most and let everyone can see it in public. They're keeping the sender names by putting anonymous on their messages. Everyone thinks that it was a good idea for them to say their feelings, not until one day, someone is taking a revenge. The revenge started from killing someone who the sender hated most and next target is the sender. Everyone who requested to post their messages, has been killed. Who's that someone taking a revenge?

To become Marcus's Luna, I hid my identity as Crimson Ridge pack's Alpha heiress and married him. Since two Alphas have difficulty conceiving offspring, I even begged the pack witch to suppress my bloodline, downgrading my wolf from Alpha to Beta. After I finally got pregnant, Marcus was out shopping with his omega mistress while I was being attacked by rogue wolves and losing our child. I forced myself to like the social media post where his lover was showing off their relationship, fighting back nausea. His call came through immediately. "What are you trying to pull now! The pack successfully signed a cooperation treaty with the neighboring pack today. You didn't even show up to the celebration, so Ivy had to take over all your Luna duties and has been taking care of my daily needs. You should be thanking her for helping you out!" "You're supposed to be a strong warrior! How can one pregnancy make you this delicate?!" He finished his rant and hung up in anger. Right. I'd been away from home too long. I was starting to forget my own last name. I didn't hesitate anymore. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in ages. "Beta Hayes, book me a flight for tomorrow morning. I'm going back to Crimson Ridge pack."

Jenny posted a picture of me and her brother, who had an intellectual disability. The caption? "Finally, a happy ending!" The comments were all the same: "Is this your sister-in-law? She’s gorgeous!" I simply replied with a question mark, but Jenny ignored me and responded to someone else instead. "She's kinda my sister-in-law, yes!" It didn't take long for Steven to call me, his tone full of anger. "It was just a little edit, do you really have to blow things out of proportion?" Half an hour later, Jenny posted another photo of her sitting in Steven's luxury car, and even tagged me in it. "We may not be related by blood, but this big brother of mine has always been my rock!" Steven commented. "I'll always be here." I knew he was trying to get a rise on me on purpose to appease Jenny, but I didn't grace them with a reply this time. All I did was like the post and file for divorce.