Where Did I Come From Novels & Stories

It sat deep inside the woods but a well tarred road led to a small town where majority of the folks lived. She thought back to home. Ivy would be trying her number but it would not go through because she had changed lines. It would never go through. Zelda would be calling the pack leader of the pack house she was supposed to be staying at, but they’ll tell him that they never received anyone with his description. And Zack. She couldn’t think of a thing that Zack would do.

Okay, so be it. I swirl on my feet and walk outside in searching for Jamie. Patrolling it is. *** "So, tell me, kiddo. Where are you from?" "I'm from Portland. And can you not call me kiddo? I'm not that young, neither you're that old." "Sure. And what brought you here?" "My university paper."

Katla “Of course I know where I come from! I come from Iceclaw. Our people were from the North, but came South to protect the humans. As we left the sea and snow and ice, we looked back and were marked with blue eyes. I’ve heard where I’m from hundreds, maybe thousands of times.” Damien looked lost in thought as his brow furrowed and his mouth tensed. I bit the corner of my bottom lip, waiting for his response.

Said Ben. “Really? Where are you from and why are you here? “Chris asked. “I was born and raised in Joburg by one and only mother Patricia Mokoena, perhaps you know her. I came here looking for my father, as I had been told his name is Chris Debeer and that I would find him in the hex mountains. Are you indeed the man I am looking for?” as I said those words, I felt sharp pain within my heart, but I could not cry. Both these men were strangers, I did not want to seem weak or be ridiculed by them.

Yes, he fucked them and all that, but it never went further than that. He felt that all ladies were like toys to be used and dumped at whim. Everyone had always been curious about his origin.... including himself. Yes, he didn't know where he came from either. He had woken up at the border between Country B, and Los Angeles. No memories whatsoever. A kind truckman had driven him here after he saw that Henry had been stranded. All efforts to recall where he had come from had been in vain. He couldn't recollect anything at all.

“For two decades, all communication to this continent ceased. Planes. Ships. Even small ferries were sent and they all either found nothing where the continent ought to be or just mysteriously vanished.” His eyes glossed over. “The ones who made it back…they were never the same. If not for your map and this little guy’s directions, we might have never found a way in.” His words settled in the air. We all watched him silently as he took in South City. “To think actually cities were still here. I thought I might be crazy for making the trip but…” “How did you come here?” I asked. “I come from a long line of fishermen,” he said proudly. “My father left his ship to me before he passed. This…thin

The forgotten girl from the last row of the classroom. Had returned as the legend that none of them saw coming.

Looking at me with my own jaw and my own eyes and thirty years of waiting written into every line of his face. I had come from something. Not from nothing, not from a story that ended before it started, not from a letter and a photograph and the ghost of a woman who had been running before I was born. From a person. From someone who had been alive this whole time, in this room, in this chair, with his hands on his knees and his eyes clear.

I told her. She took her head from my shoulder and turned it to look at me. "What secret? I don't mean to pry though." She said. "That I'm not from Earth." I sighed sadly and rubbed my palm together. "Then, where are you from?" She asked, her full gaze on me. I don't know but I felt the strong urge to trust her and tell her the truth. "I'm from Marazona, more like another planet." I bit my lip nervously.

Diana I couldn’t believe that I had finally made it here. This place was actually somewhere I rarely visited. I had once come here with my mother, because she came from this place. My mother was a child from an orphanage in a small village. She always told me that her life there had never been luxurious, but she had lived happily there. Everything there was so comforting. Surrounded by mountains and living in such simplicity. When I was little, I often listened to her adventure stories, even the ones about her herding sheep. I thought those stories were something incredible.