Torn Photo Isaac Novels & Stories

The look he had reminded Ben of his monstrous father, Robert had stopped stomping Isaac on his and Jeremih tore open his buttoned up flannel shirt exposing his pale white skin in the sun, he could hear him groan from the force which Jeremih used. The next thing that happened broke Ben and scarred him for life, it was Isaac muffled screams as Jeremih carved *FAGGOT* over his chest, when he opened his eyes, blood was all over the ground, after they were done, they ran and left Benjamin looking at a bleeding Isaac with tears flowing from his eyes. "You are a coward." Those were the last words that came out of Isaac's lips before he went unconscious. He panicked and immediately called 911.

She tapped on it with shaky hands. A photo loaded slowly. Isaac standing beside Vera, both dressed elegantly, almost red-carpet ready. Her dress was black, silk. His suit was a dark grey, his hand at the small of her back. The angle, the intimacy, everything about it made Isabel's stomach clench. "No," she whispered. She scrolled. More photos, them walking together, laughing. Her finger hovered over the last image and then it appeared. Isaac and Vera and their lips were connected in a kiss

Standing against the weathered red brick and dark tiled roofs, I lifted a hand to brush back my wind-tousled hair and turned to smile at him. "This spot would look great in photos!" Isaac paused with the camera in his hands. As he looked at me, his gaze softened without him realizing it, and even his voice grew gentler. "Yeah. Stay right there. I'll take a photo of you." He kept the camera raised, patiently taking photo after photo. I switched poses constantly, pointing at a flower by the wall and saying I wanted it in the frame, then deciding the lighting wasn't right and asking him to switch up the angle.

With trembling hand, Lucas retrieved an ultrasound scan that Ivanka had previously shared, before disclosing that the baby was not his. A pang of grief tore through his heart as he ripped the image into shreds, struggling to stem the tears that threatened to escape his eyes. After a brief hesitation, Lucas obtained a third picture from his album - a snapshot of himself, his best friend, and Ivanka, all adorned with smiles. The treachery he had endured at the hands of his confidant and former lover burdened him heavily as he tore apart the photograph, each tear serving as a painful reminder of past hurts and also an absolute healing process he should have started years ago.

Officer Brian Bowers is dead! The man lunges at Chris. They both are on the ground; the man got on top and started scratching his face off. Chris tries to plead with the man. "PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!" he pleads and cries. The man hisses at him. He does not listen, so he continues to rip his face off. His mouth grew more prominent; then, he ate his neck. Chris coughs up blood. The man stops eating his neck. Officer Chris Hudson is dead!

Where all the time has gone, I have no idea. Once Isaiah stepped from the shower, no more than a white towel draped around his hips, it became clear the nature of his injuries. Those rebels fought back. It's clear by the large gash down his stomach, the slice across his jawline and a myriad of scratches littering his skin. “How did you do it?" Zire asks. He stands at the entrance of the bathroom, watching Elise cleaning blood from Isaiah's skin. “Kill them, I mean?” “They let me out of my binds to unlock the door, and I turned on them.” Isaiah almost sounds numb, as he examines himself coldly in the mirror, watching Elise. As much as I dislike her, she is adept with the medical equipment nee

The moment the principal saw the torn papers on the floor and the scratches on my arm, his face darkened. "What happened here?" Mr. Lewis placed the collected fragments on the desk. "Principal Anderson, Director Darby, Mr. Stiazky accused Darius of cheating, removed him from the main room, delayed him, moved him to the backup room, and after the exam ended, tore up his answer booklet." Director Darby crouched to look at the fragments. Her expression hardened.

My mother never calls unless something’s wrong. I scroll through the notifications and open Connor’s latest text. [Connor: This article was published earlier this morning, but we already took it down. Unfortunately, it seems like a lot of people have seen it and there might be more.] My stomach drops. I open the link. And there it is. A photo from last night of Issa sitting next to Ivan at dinner. Her head is tilted toward him and she’s smiling. He’s looking right at her with those I-want-to-devour-you eyes

"What's wrong?" Joel shook his head. "Are you sure you're okay today?" Isaac reached to touch his forehead and he slapped his hand away. "I'm fine." He held up two fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?" "Haha. Very funny." Isaac snickered and continued flipping through the pages of his textbook as he began bobbing his head. Probably to music in his head. "Isaac." "Yes, my love." Isaac cracked up at the frown on Joel's face. Clowning around was Isaac's specialty, but Joel didn't need his jokes right now, so he maintained a serious look. Isaac got the message and coughed the rest of his laughter away.

He tried to get on to his feet, wincing in pain as he did so. Isabelle did not appear to be fazed by this new turn of events. Her face twisted into a sneer. “So, Oswald, do you want to show me what you’re made of?” David stepped inside. “What have you done to her?” “Isabelle has become a member of the Brethren!” Belinda was aware of movement behind her and she twisted round to see the bar emptying through the back door with the entrance of David Oswald. Isabelle seemed to notice this too and she laughed. “They might be scared of you, Oswald, but I’m not!”