Well Well Well If It Isn't The Consequences Novels & Stories

My counselor, Ms. Carter, turned a stack of papers around and pushed it toward me. It was a printout of the message board posts, with several long sections of comments highlighted. She frowned and tapped the post. "The whole university is talking about this. Trying to one-up other students, flaunting your wealth, and bullying someone on financial aid have made the department look terrible. The administration is already asking questions. How about this… Apologize to Viola, and we can put this behind us."

"There are consequences for disobedience, Zara. Pleasant ones and unpleasant ones, depending on the situation." "What kind of consequences?"

But still, I feel kinda nervous. All this time, I clearly knew what I was doing and I'd thoroughly thought about all the consequences before I uploaded the video. But now after doing it, I feel anxious as well as a little guilty. Was what I did really wrong? Will it be my fault if Mr. Morris gets thrown out of his job and his wife divorces him? What if he doesn't get any other job? But that's the consequence of his own action, right? Anyway, I heard he is extremely rich. So, he can still lead a pretty good life even if he loses his job. But the shame won't go away.

They spent a few minutes discussing the different choices and possible outcomes. "I'd take the cash. I mean, I've already been beaten up. Might as well get paid for it," the blue-haired girl decided, and she wasn't alone. A lot of them were leaning towards taking the cash. "Congratulations!" Natalie announced. "You've just made your first choice. Accepting the money will have some consequences down the line. You just don't know the impact yet. And that is the heart of What If. Every choice, however small, has a consequence."

“I’d be anything but uncomfortable, ma’am. You should try it.” My mouth fell open in horror. I glared at him which only made his grin wider. “You’re impossible.” I threw my hands in the air, giving up. “Why are you even making these damn rules if you’re just going to keep breaking them.” I blinked. “…What?” “Rules without consequences aren’t rules, ma’am. They’re… suggestions.” Oh no. “We’re not doing consequences,” I said quickly. “Oh, we definitely are.” He faced me fully again, crossing his arms like he’d been waiting for this moment. “Otherwise you’ll keep breaking your own rules and blaming me.”

Huh, this must be some sort of trick for sure. "Oops….did I forget to tell you the consequences you have to face for your one wrong move?" She stood from her seat to stand in front of me on the other side of the mirror. I averted my gaze at her and she continued, "Destruction…..of everything. Choose your wit wisely." Duh, I already know what the consequences could be, and believe me I don't want them to be true. I have no desire to test the theory. I gave it one more try and looked around for another way, however, I found none.

"Intentions do not insulate us from the consequences of our actions." -Jon D. Harrison- *** There was always a consequence for everything. Even though it might not show up now at this moment, you would never know when karma would bite you in the face for the sins and crimes you committed in the past. It was supposed to be Greta’s last day at the hospital because the doctor told everyone her health was becoming better and she could go home.

"By redirecting Morrison away from me. If your family has nothing to hide, then there's nothing to worry about." He stood, paced to the window. "You know that's not true. Every family in this world has something to hide. And Morrison's the type who won't stop digging until she finds it." "Then maybe it's time those things came to light." He turned to look at me. "You really believe that?" "I believe in consequences. Actions have them. Even if it takes five years for them to catch up." "And what about your actions? Your consequences?" "I deal with those every day."

I said, and I heard the frustration in my own voice, the genuine frustration of someone who could see the shape of what was coming and could not understand how the person beside her was standing in it without visible concern. He looked at me. "Consequences matter," he said. "I have accounted for them." "Then tell me what you accounted for," I said. "Resistance," he said. "From several directions. Some of it we will be managing for months. Possibly longer." "And you decided that was acceptable," I said. "Yes," he said, and then after a pause: "Because the alternative was not." The answer reached something in me that I was not going to examine in the middle of this atrium. I filed it with ever

Celine moved forward, almost falling off the chair “You forgive me?” She asked, almost smiling, shameless from the dirty bag that was just dug out from her. “Yes Celine, there's no reason to not forgive you. Forgiving you is not the same thing as letting go of the consequences” Mr Brown said, his face contoured in planned sacarsm. The smile on her face faded, as she knew he didn't mean she would go scot free. “Celine, I'm sure you are aware of the consequences of theft in OAKS AND BRANCHES” Mr Brown’s voice loud and clear, carrying a weight of serious that made the air still.