Those Days Novels & Stories

Good days are like sand, you can't hold them forever however hard you try, they'd slip through your fingers any-f*cking-how. But bad days are like rain, they're just like what they are, they'll keep on coming, you can't make them go away. The days that are so dark you lose all strength and hope, and faith in your own existence, and all you can do is curse why the hell are you on this earth? My Mumma's death anniversary was tomorrow. So was my f*cking birthday.

data-p-id=27c321c0573ae33ffb10a9603b2a112e,****** The next day. data-p-id=ed2fd59a332bb15f49f64266cc43b215,It's finally Saturday and this has to be the most annoying Saturday of my life. I already packed my bags with things I’d need for my two weeks stay over at the McCain's mansion.

**Dawn's POV** Today is the 60th day since I returned to the past. A lot of things have happened during these 60 days, and I can't believe that somehow, I managed to pull them off within such a short period. Not gonna lie, I have always been in a bit of a hurry to finish my tasks, whether it was doing dishes or taking the blame for Spring. I always did everything as soon as possible.

I couldn’t help but smile, staring at Raven as she concentrated on the moves Alaric was teaching them . “ She will be a fierce warrior,” Zane complimented Raven, and I smiled , nodding in agreement. “ she is.“ “ So guys, do you know what day it is?” Theodore asked. Zane looked at his phone because we both didn’t know what day it was . “Thursday??” He asked . “ Yes, well, you got that right . But what’s the date ?” He asked . “ Theo, what has gotten into you and why are you asking questions about days and date “ i quirked my brow at him and he grinned .

His eyes trail back to Millan until his brain catches up and he looks at the clock again. The 21st of March. Weston used to apprehend that day, to fear it. Since his parent’s death, his friends and the Council have come to accept this day as Weston’s day off. He would spend it at his parents’ grave, avoiding talking to anyone. He would hate how that day had the power of turning him into the opposite of who he really is; an antisocial, depressed, unapproachable Head Alpha. But this year… He hadn’t even realized it was today.

I made deals. Day 42. The number I’d scratched into the back of an old bus transfer. Forty-two days since the last time I let anything but coffee set my hands on fire. Forty-two days since I saw a man tear out of his skin like he was tired of being smaller than what was underneath.

With that he turned his back and left me. I felt my knees loses its strength that I fell down. I can only let my tears stream down to my face as I feel an excruciating pain inside my chest. --------- You know those days Those days where you're sad for no reason. Those days where your body is heavy And it looks like everyone else except you is busy and fierce. My feet won't set off, though it seems like I'm already too late. I'm hateful of the whole world... Yeah, here and there are click-clacking speed bumps

No words needed. Three more days. Plenty of rooms left to ruin.

Madelyn exclaimed. "I know right!" I teased. She laughed. "Idiot!" "I want Maple syrup! Pleaseeee!" I pleaded. "Okay okay!!!" She sighed. "I'll bring tons of it," •••• 6 am. Wednesday, the 30th of May. A.k.a., Doomsday Today is the day. It's the day we stand up for our rights! Well, more like the day "I" stand up for... "my"... 'non-existent' rights.

But at least this cage has an exit date. Twenty-three days. We can survive twenty-three days. We've survived worse. Together. Always together.