Novel & Cerita Stories Moral Lesson

He dropped to his knees and hit his head on the ground repeatedly, “Miss Joni, have mercy! I can’t take that! I’m not part of the Jennings family! I’m not! I’m an outsider! I’m not worthy of being punished under the family’s rules!” “Now you’re an outsider?” I sneered. “Then why, when you flaunted power in my family’s mall, didn’t you remember that? When you spent Grandpa’s money recklessly, didn’t you remember you were an outsider? When you forced Linda to step on my sister’s inhaler, didn’t you remember you were an outsider?” Blood ran from his forehead, staining the floor. Yet, he didn’t dare stop. Even if he survived one hundred and eighty beatings, he would end up crippled.

me to end this already stung some. "I leaned into the window so I could speak quietly. "I don't want to end it Daddy, but I want to get these pictures, and then I will ride back with Deacon," I said softly to try to tame the beast. He growled some before saying, "Fine, but I will punish you for just taking off and not telling me, or Dee. This is something you must learn to be with me. You always have a choice." He hung up not letting me respond. I took a deep breath and looked at Deacon. " I am sorry I got you in trouble," I said looking down at the car door. "Hey, Iris, It's okay. I know this all seems strange to you. This is the way a lot of people in this lifestyle handle things. It's no

Moral lesson A scar tells your story of how you survived . Never be ashamed of a scar. It means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.Each scar I’ve gained has been a badge of survival. It tells me that I was strong enough to beat something. It shows me the strength my body has to overcome whatever is thrown at it. Everyday I look back at my scars and I think about the stories behind them .They’re a sign of survival.The moral lesson for the story is to never give up . Sure there might be ups and downs but let's not forget that there is always light at the end of the tunnel.

“Bloody.” My stomach twisted. I didn’t like this story, and I didn’t understand why he was telling it now, of all times. “The father wasn’t home. So the little boy ran around the neighborhood begging for help.” The silence that followed was suffocating. “That little boy learned 3 things that day. Do you want to know what they were?” It seemed like a rhetorical question. My answer didn’t matter… he was practically lost in his tale. “One… that safety doesn’t exist. People can be bought and sold. Two… good people get punished. And three…” He glanced at me, his eyes hard. “The system always protects the wrong people.”

The cat looked at me, its yellow eyes sparkling. “The answer is simple.” I picked up Sarah’s doll and placed it next to an old, dusty one that once belonged to a man who had tried to curse his own brother. “Magic without a price is like love without sacrifice. Hollow. Empty. Without value. Lara learned that. She paid with pain, with blood, with three years of loneliness. And in the end, she received her reward. Sarah… Sarah wanted the easier path. She wanted revenge instead of healing. And look where she is now.” The cat licked its paw, disinterested. The moral lesson was not for it.