Novel & Cerita Who Am I From Les Miserables

Cassar gave me a weird look, not understanding. "I said, born and raised in Mexico. I swear." I translated for the knuckle head. He kept the jar away from me. His eyes unblinking. "You're not from Mexico." It was a joke, I obviously wasn't born and raised in Mexico, but still I cried in agony over my peanut butter. He still didn't submit. "Fine," I huffed giving in. "I'm from Uganda, Africa." Cassar came closer to me, his face directly in front of mine. A teasing smile on his lips. "Now Vienna, do we have to have a chat about lying?"

If I make her a slave it's impossible because she already looks old at only 40 years old. "You forgot where I come from, Madame. Once again I will introduce myself, that I come from Rome, Italy. If you have mafia acquaintances, so will my family. Be careful if you brag about them, it's not me who is being sold but your daughter, Britney." I said then smiled and she frowned watching me with her wide eyes. She must be afraid if I threaten the beautiful daughter. I left her and walked up the stairs. She can't threaten me like she used to. My second life took her into a whirlpool of doubt and fear.

I mean I needed this kind of peace in my life even if it was just for a few minutes. We sat down on the bare grass with soaked clothes and stared at the beautiful light shows. " Who are you really?" He asked and I gave him a small smile. I wasn't sure he could take who I actually was. Even I didn't like who I truly was." A mysterious person" I answered as I looked up at the dark sky. " Your files say you originate from Saudi Arabia" I honestly wasn't comfortable about talking about my past. I mean I went through a lot and I didn't want people to pity me just because of all what I went through.

"The Hunchback of Notre Dame. A French gothic novel. Beautiful and very unfortunate." "Tell me more." "Well, the main character, Esmeralda, is a stunning and independent young woman who is skilled at dancing and singing. She is of Romani heritage and faces discrimination and persecution from the people of Paris due to her ethnicity. Despite this, she remains kind and compassionate, often extending her generosity to others in need. She is also a symbol of hope and freedom, representing the possibility of a better life for the oppressed and downtrodden." "She sounds amazing. Does she fall in love and live happily ever after?"

I was a nobody. My existence didn't mean much to anyone either. I was married off to Gustavo as repayment of a long overdue debt by my Aunt Martha. My late parents were peasant farmers, who had nothing but their strong will to farm and desire to succeed. Their life took a tumultuous turn when they gave birth to me. They lost their farm and their livelihood to the war and with no choice, they brought me to live with my father's Aunt in Medellin. Ever since they dropped me, they never looked back.

For a second, I even thought she might be a ghost but then she flicked ash off the cigarette, so casually, that made me believe somehow that she was real. Still, my heart pounded hard. “I…” I started, but my voice cracked. She tilted her head, watching me for a moment with curious eyes. “Like a modern interpretation of Les Misérables,” she murmured with a soft smile. Her French accent was thick, rich and melodic and the way she said those words sent a small shiver down my spine. I understood her, but barely. My French wasn’t perfect, but I knew enough to get what she meant. She was comparing me to one of those tragic characters… the ones who always end up suffering more than they deserve.

As long as they didn't question my identity, both options were fine by me. A young man in an expensive tuxedo leaned closer and said, “Where has he been hiding you all this time?” “Maybe I was hiding from him…” I said with a playful shrug, and Mrs. Izzo stepped close once again. “Of course, such gems are always hidden, darling! Where did you say you are from again?” “My mother was from southern France.” “Oh, right… then you must have known about Nico's engagement too? Or didn't you?” “I—”

Nothing seemed different or impressive about him. "I am from south Louisiana," Claude answered as he sat in the chair next to me. "You know I dabble in voodoo and hoodoo," It was at that point I knew I had made a friend, I had at least one person I could count on being here. Now, all I had to do was convince him to help me escape, how long that would take was yet to be seen. I never thought something like this would happen to me. That my own father would sell me out, his only daughter to a woman that collects unusual people, I mean surely I can't be that unusual. "I'll be back with some food, Cher and I'll be telling Madam about what happened here too." I didn't know what else to say whether

I run towards the cottage and kill two rouges who try to stop me. I kick the already broken door so it breaks completely. Inside, I see a guy around my age a woman who is trying to shield a young woman. Then I see Alpha Louis barely standing but refusing to give up. I growl. The two men stop and look at me, and the rouge leader sneers when he sees me. “Who are you,” He sneers, and I laugh. “Me? I am someone you don’t want to challenge.” I say, and I can see in his eyes that he can hear my accent. I am from America.

“You’re a werewolf.” She remained mute and that was more than enough. My grip tightened on the handle and a part of me wished I pressed the trigger but I couldn’t. “What Pack are you from?” “I’m a Rogue,” “For fucks sake what Pack are you from?!” I barked. “I swear I’m a rogue! I got kicked out of my Pack for a crime and ever since then I came to New Orleans hoping to start a new life.” She said with tears hinting in her eyes but I cared less.