Sinners Anonymous の小説・ストーリー

ALEX LITTLE WAS WANTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS PREVIOUS WIFE AND WAS BEATING HIS SON, I wrote on the next page, AND THOMAS SINCLAIR WAS A KNOWN RAPIST WHO GOT OFF ON A TECHNACALITY. Veronica looked alarmed, plush lips already opened to apologize, but he held my hand up to stop her. IT'S FINE. There was no way Veronica could've known. As for other members of the AAs, I would have stayed my hand. Most of the members were just…desperate or angry with society in the worst ways. Not that they needed the excuse, but it was nothing to die over, a punishment would suffice. "Fine, huh?" More convincing then. I'D BEEN HUNTING THE TWO OF THEM FOR WEEKS AND JUST SO HAPPENED TO LUCK OUT WHEN THEY WERE ATTA

"We are both going to punished once when we get caught. We need to be extra careful." Ang dapat sanang matatakot ako dahil sa kaniyang sinabi. Hindi tuloy nangyari. Bagkus, parang mas gusto ko pang gumawa ng bawal... ng masama. Para lang marinig sa kaniya ang ganoong kataga. Selfishness or self-will is the manifestation of sin. True love is the antidote to self-centeredness. You will not commit sin with them or tempt them to commit sin if you genuinely love them. "Kung ako lang ang mapaparusahan ay ayos lang, kaya ko naman. Pero paano kapag saiyo na? Hindi ko mapapatawad ang sarili ko, Amari..."

I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, my hips rolling off the hard bench. "It feels so good, Father Edmund," I gasped out, panting as I kept my eyes locked on his shadow through the screen. "I’m fingering myself right in front of you. Come on, tell me I'm going to hell. Tell me I'm a sinner while you listen to me fuck myself like a dirty little whore I am." The booth rattled violently, making me jump. A loud bang echoed through the small space as he slammed his door shut, leaving the confession booth.

As if an unheard bell sounded, the smokers and non-smokers made their way to their marked seats. The man beside Krispin stood and walked to the front of the room. "My name is Barry Levins," he said in a loud, gruff voice, "and I'm an alcoholic. The purpose of AA is to stay sober and help other alcoholics to achieve sobriety. This is an open meeting and some of you have brought friends and family. They are here for support, but this is not the venue for them to speak. I would like anyone new to stand and give a short introduction. Please begin with 'I am an alcoholic' and also list any other addictions you have."

“Whatever happens tonight, I don’t regret this.” The meet was set for an empty warehouse on the edge of the city. Dan drove while Sophia sat beside him in silence. The blackmailer’s message had given only a time and a pin on the map, no name. They parked under a broken streetlight where the air smelled like rust and rain. A single figure waited near a stack of shipping crates. When the person stepped into the weak light Dan felt something hit him like a bag of broken nails. It was Marcus Hale. Board member and old rival. The man who had wanted Dan’s CEO seat for years.

I cut him off. The words came out sharp and direct. I wasn't interested in preambles. I wasn't interested in carefully constructed sentences. I wanted a straight answer and I wanted it now. Eric looked at me for a moment. Then he nodded, like he had expected exactly that. "My name is Eric Carrington," he began, his voice dropping slightly, taking on a different weight entirely. "I run one of the largest criminal syndicates in this country. I control a network of underground operations across the city—the casinos, the clubs, the trafficking of weapons, territories, everything that moves in the dark in this city moves because I allow it to.”

I’m furіоuѕ at thе invasion оf privacy, аnd thаt еvеrуоnе here соuld have their own аnоnуmіtу blоwn. Wе hаvе mееtіngѕ in ѕесrеt fоr a rеаѕоn. People judge addicts and alcoholics. It’s оnе оf the rеаѕоnѕ mеmbеrѕ feel safe еnоugh to аttеnd these meetings. They’re not supposed to bе ѕubjесt tо any ѕurvеіllаnсе. Mу blооd bеgіnѕ tо boil.

By the time the city lights faded and the first hint of morning pressed against the curtains of her apartment, Aneet had closed her eyes for barely an hour. The night had been a digital descent into a special kind of self-inflicted torture, a cyclical pilgrimage through Ananya’s I*******m feed, zooming in on that single, devastating background photo, then spiraling out to stalk other attendees, searching for paparazzi videos, any crumb of context. She found nothing more. Ahaan had left no other trace. The fact that he and Suhana didn’t even follow each other was a cruel, confusing detail to her heart. By the time the first weak light filtered through her window, she accepted the truth.

If anyone was to understand him, he expected that 'one' to be his mother. "That word is wrong and sinful, the act itself is repulsive. How can you even call yourself that abominable word." "Why do you find it difficult to say the word GAY, mum?" "God forbid I say such distasteful word." "Distasteful?" Bile filled the back of Steven's throat as he stood there looking at his mother, the sour heat almost made him double over onto his knees to empty the contents of his stomach on the porcelain tiles. How he managed to keep from doing so was a miracle.

“Diane, please forgive me. Please… let’s start all over again and allow me to make up for everything. God knows I didn’t mean what happened, and if only I am sober that night, I would have never hurt you. I would have never ruined your life.” “Please listen to me. I was drugged by that time, and I didn’t even know how my friends got you. I commanded them to take you back to where they got you and not even lay a finger on you. I was a victim too, and God knows how much I already repented for that sin years ago.” “I went to the States after, yes… I must admit that I was a coward way back then. But I came back here to search for you because I owed you a sincere apology. For three years, I lived