Social Outcast Novels & Stories

Whether Lucas signed the application or not wouldn't stop me from walking away. I returned to the pack and quickly packed everything up, taking all the money Lucas had been transferring me each month without hesitation. Before, I never touched a dime of it. I used the money I earned myself to buy things for him and Finn. Now that I was taking it back, I didn't feel guilty about it at all. I had already sent my résumé to that prestigious school in the Stormcrest pack, and my abortion surgery was scheduled for a few days later. Only then did it finally feel real, as though I was starting to cut everything off.

All three of them squeezed into a run-down 540-square-foot house and scraped by day to day. When I found all of this out, I was traveling the world, living exactly the life I had always wanted. Whenever I stood in a beautiful, unfamiliar place, I couldn't help but think that if it weren't for that casual joke back then, I might never have seen such sights. I would have spent my entire life giving everything to the Stark family. So, in a way, I had Calum to thank for this.

"I know it's not really something you can pursue legally. I just needed the truth out in the open. Thanks for coming." He sighed. "I'm glad you got out. Now go live your life. Don't step back into that mess." My eyes burned. Even a stranger felt sorry for me. But the people who were supposed to love me had only ever seen me as something to drain. Behind the door, the shouting continued. This time, I didn't turn back.

“Try me.” He gave a tired smile. “Maybe I am just the scape goat used to disrupt things so that I can help you see the real traitor.” “Okay… I definitely wasn't expecting that answer.” “You still don’t get it, Ghost. You think you’re fighting me but you’re fighting the wrong man. The actual person who sold you out isn’t the one bleeding in your bed. The cover up plan is.” His voice faded. “And you trust them too much to see, that's the problem.”

Melanie asked in disbelief. Ken had repeatedly told her she wasn't good-looking. Jamie didn't hesitate for a moment to say, "I wasn't exaggerating at all. You're absolutely beautiful! How about a picture? I want to show off to my fans!" "A picture?" Melanie's eyes widened. Show off? Jamie was an internationally acclaimed actor, and she was only a screenwriter. If anyone should be showing off, it ought to be her. Her thoughts scattered; before she could fully process anything, Jamie was already standing next to her and posing for a photo. He then posted it on all his social media accounts, including his verified ones.

She dropped her bag on a table and walked to my bed Agnes: how do you feel? She was putting up a smirk on her lips Me: I'm better now. Thank you She cracked and crossed her arms Agnes: it's so funny how you think you'll feel welcomed here Me: huh? Agnes: you know what? You're just lucky. You're lucky you're rich if not, no one will accept you here. You're an outcast and should be treated like one Me : if you're trying to intimidate me because of my skin color then you're going on a futile attempt because it won't get to me

With no regard to consequences. It was like colors were fading away from my life. Everything was turning into a tone of gray. “Vincent the freak!!” I personally don’t think it makes sense. Why am I an outcast? I didn't do anything to deserve it. I would always mind my own business. Just what was it that bothered the kids around me? I mean, we were all the same there. We were all orphans. Or perhaps, I was a little different. I was forcefully made into an orphan.

“I’m out of shape, I’m ugly, I’m lazy, I’m stupid…” “Hold on.” Matt’s eyes flashed with what looked like anger. “Who told you all of these things?” “Just about everyone in my life,” I said. “When I’m not wearing my mask, people stare. They whisper. I’m an outcast.” Matt simply shook his head, taking me by surprise once more that night. “Do they really do all of that, or do you just think that they do all of that?” “What?” I asked, wiping a tear from my eye.

A spilled cup of water or a burnt piece of bread would earn me a beating. Here, the worst I had to endure were words whispered behind my back. Not even to my face. It was a harsh sort of peace, but it was peace nonetheless. No one laid a hand on me. No one screamed obscenities in my face. Being an outcast was probably the closest I would ever come to being free. Here, I was … nothing. And I could live with nothing. “You’re handling it well,” Diane murmured, as I tucked Enid into the bed. “The way they treat you.”

"They're making you a pariah. If you walk back into that city, you won't be arrested by the police. You'll be executed by the market." "They're making sure I have nowhere to hide," Elias corrected, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "By declaring me a fraud, they've turned every bank, every contact, and every ally against me. Even if I survived the syndicate, I no longer exist as a person with agency. I am an outlaw." He paced the length of the room, the wound in his side clearly painful, though he refused to acknowledge it. I watched him, the man who had once owned the skyline, now reduced to a fugitive in a room that smelled of damp wood and hopelessness.