The Year You Were Born Book Novels & Stories

I stuffed the last piece of clothing into the suitcase and snapped it shut, then I looked around the apartment. Having lived here for five years, my presence was everywhere, from the paintings on the walls to the throw pillows on the couch and the plants on the balcony. Now, those very details felt like a cruel joke. I wheeled my suitcase toward the living room and paused to look at the calendar. New Year’s Day was tomorrow. A fresh start and a brand-new year. Without hesitation, I reached for my phone and reserved a seat on the first high-speed train heading to Cedar Hollow, my hometown.

It felt strange, how something so small could pull at me like that. We kept walking. Somewhere near the corner shelf, I stopped again — a thin book caught my eye. The First Year: A Guide for New Parents. I reached for it, running my thumb along the spine. Pages soft, edges new. I flipped through — pictures of fathers holding babies, smiling mothers, small notes on feeding and sleep routines. For the first time that day, something in my chest loosened. “You know,” the storekeeper said, glancing at the book, “most fathers come back for that one. They say it helps.”

He said, handing it to me. "What is it?" I asked. The book looked as though it would break at any second, and loose pages threatened to scatter about. "Why don't you look at the first page." Nigel suggested, giving me what I assumed he thought was a gentle smile. Nodding, I held my breath as I did what he said and began to read. Rayne G. Rivers, Born February 2nd 1969 Parents: Unknown Pack: Unknown Rank: Experiment Confused, I looked to Nigel for some sort of clarification as to what exactly I was looking at.

Zann was braiding my hair, holding a piece of candy, smiling warmly as he said, “Neve, when I grow up, I’ll build you a castle and make you the happiest princess.” Trembling, I mustered my last ounce of strength. With bloodstained fingers, I slid across the screen to send my last message. [Zann, I’m not waiting anymore. My life repays you and Wanda. Bury me with my parents.] Each word drained every ounce of energy from my body, as if pouring all the grievances, agony, and despair of the past year into that brief message. When the message was sent, every shred of burden was lifted. I closed my eyes, utterly drained.

I answered a little worried "You were born in 2001?" "Yes?, in November" I was very worried now, he opened the photo album to a picture of my parents, they looked happy, drinking beer "The picture was taken on Halloween, look at your mother, look at her stomach", I looked and realised she wasn't pregnant in the picture, if I was born in November, shouldn't she have a big belly in this picture? "Maybe the pictures were mixed up" I concluded "from a different year"

And then leave before they change their minds. "We are still young Henry." August pondered. "We still have a lot of years to figure out who we are." She closed her book and started to gather her things. "There's no need to rush. Plus your prefrontal cortex isn't fully developed until you are twenty-five." She was facing me now, our knees almost touching. "Meaning you're still allowed to be stupid and feel lost and make wrong decisions." I laughed, "Is this your way of making me feel better?"

It is giving me a hard time. “You are born in October, the year 1996 the 11th of the month. We- we celebrated your debut… the only thing that is missing that time is… is the debutant. You- you are not there to be seen by the world.” He said and his face turns so gloomy. “My written birthdate is on November 10, 1997. We didn’t celebrate my debut and not even my birthday.” I said as I try to divert his attention away from me.

Even as a child, she carried around things like scissors, tissue and stick-on notes, which made her the go-to person for people who needed to borrow things. She finally found the book after rummaging in her large tote bag for so long. She opened the first page. Alas! Conveniently, the first word was a year. 1780 So she made her decision and wrote the year down on the first line of the book. Nothing happened. Thalia sighed, put the book away, and put everything back inside her big tote bag. Although it was false, the book was nevertheless attractive and went well with the rest of her collection. She stood to leave the restaurant and suddenly she felt a tingle at the back of her ears, which ma

When I was born, or should I say, when my father gave me his fate when I was eight, I was already a part of the game. "I have no power to choose whether to enter the game or even whether to receive the Apocalyptic Book. My father decided for me, and he must have been forced to do so. He knew that I was born in this game, and the only thing I could do was to survive in the game as long as possible." "Things have come to this point today. Do you think that I will hesitate to read the Preface of the Apocalyptic Book?"