Seventeen Your Choice Novels & Stories

The seventh subject immediately sent: LUCAS IS NOT ALLOWED TO NAME ME. Lucas looked offended. “I have good names.” NO. “Peach?” ABSOLUTELY NOT. Elias laughed across the room. Lucas tried again. “Seven?” WORSE. Mara said: “She has to choose it.” The seventh subject replied: I KNOW. Elena asked: “Do you want suggestions?” Long pause. YES. That was different. Not someone assigning her identity. Asking for possibilities.

Seventeen was supposed to be sweet. The cultural narrative sold to me was one of brightness and gold—a last rush of youth where you were supposed to be carefree, floating through plans with friends and late-night, cinematic memories. But my seventeen didn’t shine. It didn’t glow. Mine felt heavy. Mine felt older than I was, carrying a weight that belonged to a different decade. And the bulk of that weight came from the quiet, agonizing shift happening between me and Raymond.

Or I could send it to my mother and force her to finally face what she had helped hide. But I didn't do either of those things. Instead, I just sat there and stared at the phone until my eyes burned. A text came through. It was from the unknown number again, the one that had been guiding me this whole time. "You have the truth now. What you do with it will define who you become next. Choose carefully." I read it twice, then set the phone down. Whoever was sending these messages, they were right. I had a choice to make, and it would change everything. I just didn't know yet what the right choice was.

I stare at him. “You have choices, you realise that right? Sure, this is an easy way to make quick cash, but you can find other ways. Ways that don’t involve you giving yourself to strange guys.” “I do not have a choice, this is my only option.” He tilts his head to the side. “Everyone has a choice, Cherry.” “Well, I don’t as I am still under contract until I am thirty-six.” I watch as he looks at me confused, does he not know the rules?

said Choice rolling out on the marble floor laughing out loudly holding her stomach but Destiny just shrugged her shoulders saying … “ I have someone even more dumb here.” Choice … “…!! ..!! Sister , did you …??” Destiny cut her amidst saying … “ No, No, I mean , you are right.” Which made Choice to lift her brows in happiness and laugh even more harder.

So we keeping this PG, PG-13, R, Unrated? PrinceCharming: XXX would be preferred but how about we put two dares out there and the person is allowed to pick. For example: No underwear tomorrow OR asking any of the higher ups out for drinks. LonelyGirl: I'm both terrified and turned-on. PrinceCharming: Good. Pick one and let me know how it goes. What are my options? LonelyGirl: Hmm, this is hard. PrinceCharming: That's what she said. LonelyGirl: LOL Ok I got it! Either wear something made of leather or tell your dad how you feel about him.

Choice created something new. Something the creature could never possess. Ethan stood. Then we don't fight it with memories. We fight it with choices. Jason nodded. Rose wiped her tears. Then let's make one. The original Ethan looked at them. All of you together. Ethan reached for Jason. Jason grabbed his hand. Rose took Ethan's other hand. Evan joined them. Then Elena. Then Richard. Even the original Ethan stepped forward. Seven people. Seven consciousnesses. Seven different histories. Seven different choices.

Before the birthday party starts, my boyfriend, Edward Parker, casts his phone onto the large screen in the private room. He starts an anonymous poll in the group chat we share with our friends. The question is, "Tonight, should I stay and cut the cake with my girlfriend, or go to the premiere with my childhood friend?" A 30-second countdown begins as the votes keep climbing. His childhood friend, Renee Lane, gets 17 votes while I get just one. Everyone thinks I'm the one who has voted for myself. Edward leans back against the couch and smiles. "The minority yields to the majority." Renee hands him the movie ticket. "Guess everyone agrees that I need you more." Meanwhile, I'm standing

"Don't listen to that new girl. I picked the gown myself. And that's not a bloodstain. It's an exclusive design made with rose petal juice." I wasn't listening. Instead, I went back to my chat and asked, "The earliest flight is tomorrow night. Can we meet up after I land?" "Hey, are you listening to me?" The last of Zach's patience had run out. He snatched my phone away and threw it at the couch. "Grow up, Queenie. You give me the silent treatment for no reason every single time. You'll never be a good wife if you keep up that act." I bit my lip. As I stared at the cold and indifferent man I called my fiancé, I couldn't help but chuckle at his ridiculous statement. After all, no one knew sil