Short Poem About Myself

My name is Greyson Langley-just call me Lang. I'm a heavy-metal band player who just back from a concert tour. On my Clofus campus, I reunited with my friends and my beautiful four crushes. Later, I heard about the largest prostitution complex in South East Asia was threatened by being evicted by the government. There, I met a prostitute with a golden voice with a dark past. So, I promised to free her from that despicable valley. Later, I found myself torn between five different women in five irreconcilable lives. The deeper I became involved in their lives, I catapulted into the intrigues of a world that threatens my life and may shatter my heart. And even my nation's democracy. One day, I found a diary written by my grandfather, which made me enlightened also threatened. Stranded amid love, danger, passion, and violence, I should choose between myself, my lover, or my nation. What I begin in compulsion now becomes my urgent need. Come, read my story ... If you dare! WARNING: This story contains adult, explicit, disturbing, and sensitive material. Reader discretion is advised.

"I am going to die" he said as menacingly silent as ever. Another thing Jason would be very good at, was acting. "No why would you say that?" She said slightly louder than normal. "Shhh... I'm telling you because you are the only one who cares about me. If I die, it's not going to change anything for any other person" "What's happening? Are you going crazy?" Juana was scared. Dead scared. "I'm a criminal, a wanted one at that" he said, his breath short "I know. What's new?" "Before I get caught and sentenced to death, I'd like to do something. That's why I'm here" he sighed. "Do what?" In this novel, Juana, the genius tells the story about her alienation, her weird ability, coping with grief after losing her mom first to plane disappearance and then to dementia, her meeting with a ghost-seer and also her school life experiences which included bullying and notoriety, and most challengingly, her encounter with a good looking criminal.

I have just secured a massive ten-million-dollar deal during the Black Friday Sales. I have endured several days of hectic work, yet I still find myself unable to turn down my girlfriend, Charlotte Ward. We spend the night in passionate abandon and finally fall into a heavy, restful sleep. The next morning, a loud thud jolts me awake. When I open my eyes, I realize that it's my luggage. Charlotte suddenly says, "This is the end for us, Robert. It's time for you to move out. I've already wired the money for your past services, along with your salary. So get going." I find myself caught in a daze and about to move to question her, but she stops me dead, jabbing her fingers into my chest. "Know your place, Robert. You're nothing but a gigolo to me. I might, maybe, let you keep your job in Ward Group if you beg." I almost reach out to grab her wrist but stop myself. Instead, I smile broadly and say, "You've got it all wrong. Your company wouldn't survive without me, Charlotte."

I’ve always been someone with a strong, restless libido I can’t quite explain. I’ve never gone to a doctor about it, but I know myself well enough to realize it’s something that comes and goes in waves, especially when I'm ovulating. During that time of the month, I'd need to do it two to three times a day or my body would feel extremely uncomfortable. Normally, my tall, broad-shouldered husband would be the one to ease that ache and fill the emptiness in me. However, lately he’s been impossibly busy, away on business trips for weeks at a time…

After my rebirth, I avoided my family and my boyfriend like the plague. When they tried to throw me a birthday party, I faked an urgent business trip to dodge it. When my parents pleaded with me to move back, I secretly bought my own house that very night. When my boyfriend popped the question, I spun on my heel and married someone else. In my previous life, my sister and I were swept away in a raging flood. By sheer luck, a jagged tree branch snagged my clothes, saving me from the depths, but my sister drowned in the merciless current. My parents, consumed by grief and rage, gripped my throat and screamed, "If it weren't for you, Andrea would still be alive!" My boyfriend acted like it was no big deal, offering half-hearted comfort before we tied the knot. But on our wedding anniversary, during a family cruise, they cornered me on the deck and shoved me overboard. "Time to taste drowning yourself!" they hissed. It turned out they had never gotten over Andrea's death. My boyfriend had never forgotten about her. When my eyes fluttered open again, I found myself back on that fateful day. This time, I vowed to live for myself, reclaiming the joy they'd stolen from me.

"Tell me how do you want me to make it up to you??" I asked, putting myself at risk by asking the big bad alpha wolf that question. "I'm not simply interested in having sex with you," He smiled and came closer, running his finger up my neck, "I want to experience everything with you." "How about not wearing any clothing whenever we are alone in this mansion?" I gasped in shock as he murmured into my face. (Content/ Trig*er Warning: The following read consists of extreme profanity, violence, or gore. Subjects like SA and abuse are briefly discussed that might be difficult for some to read)

After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me. He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband. I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him. The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me. The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains. But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me. My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately. Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in. "Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!" Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it." Speechless, I immediately called Yves. "Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."

My younger sister, Mindy Sampson, has a rare blood condition. She needs regular blood transfusions and a bone marrow transplant. My husband, Ian Huffman, and I are matches. My mother says we should draw lots. Whoever draws the short stick will become Mindy's blood donor. In the next five years, I am always the one who draws the short stick. Because of constant blood draws and bone marrow extractions, my body breaks down. Before I die, I stumble upon Ian holding Mindy and saying, "Cindy is so stupid. There are only short sticks in the container. Every time, we let her draw first. How could she ever get a long one? "She is going to die without ever knowing you are not sick at all. Once she dies and we get the insurance money, we can travel the world." When I open my eyes again, I am back in the fifth year after Mindy is diagnosed. I look at the container of sticks on the table and smile. Then, I look at Ian and say, "This time, you draw first."

It was the climactic moment of my game, but the enemy's flash bang blinded me. After I reopened my eyes, I found myself in the world of the post-apocalyptic underdog comeback story I'd ranted about to my friend the day before. No, I wasn't the protagonist with a cheat for a system. Instead, I was the cannon fodder who suffered the worst fate. He also had my name. I found myself locked outside the armored vehicle while a swarm of high-level zombies had surrounded me. 'Blast,' I thought. 'All this just because I flamed them? And I just made a pentakill after my 8-win streak!' I told myself to calm down and let my mind do its work, but then the laughter of this body's wife echoed from the walkie-talkie. "Stop covering for him, gunners! We're livestreaming to the whole camp. My husband's going to rip these Tier Six zombies to shreds!" Then, the woman's useless male best friend buzzed with excitement. "I'll have a permanent spot in the inner city if he distracts the horde and they rip him apart in the process, babe!" If this went the way of the original story, I'd beg for help only to get no answer and be ripped apart by the zombies. Fortunately, I wasn't the same coward this guy used to be. The woman kept egging me on. I sneered. I didn't spend years playing competitive games for nothing. And so, I grabbed a high-frequency concussion grenade that could get the attention of every single zombie in a 3-mile radius, smashed the ventilation valve of the armored vehicle, and hurled the grenade inside.

“He is here again”, I murmured to myself as I could feel the air shift in the room. I pulled my nightgown down to cover myself as cold and warmth enveloped me in a soothing embrace. It felt like a warm blanket had been wrapped around me. He smelled faintly of dark vanilla and something musky, something warm. I could feel his breath on my skin before the bed dipped. He pulled me closer and wrapped his hands around me. I closed my eyes and waited for his soothing murmurs in my ears. “Did you miss me”? He moaned into my ears. Alora Lance has been haunted by a faceless man who visits her dreams for as long as she can remember. His touch is electric, and his presence is peaceful and intoxicating but her waking life is anything but magical. She has nothing except a leaking roof over her head and a ruthless landlord threatening eviction. Then one day, she finds herself in a mating ceremony she was not supposed to attend. One accidental step into a world that should not exist. And everything changes. Dragged into a world that doesn't make sense in real life, Alora finds herself pulled into a past she knows nothing about and the enigmatic gaze of the man that had haunted her dreams except this is not a dream, it's a nightmare she may never escape, especially when the Alpha of the Bloodfang Pack marks her with a single look. And in his eyes, she is no longer invisible. She begins to question everything about her life and her past.