Novel & Cerita Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me

I have faced many fears during this test, but the greatest fear I have is dying before I've had the chance to live. I stood there letting that horrible understanding sink in. It made me terribly sad to know that more people were probably going to die and there would be nothing I could do to change that reality. Another phantom walked up to me as I cried in silence. They just keep coming… This phantom was different than the others I encountered. “There, there. Tell me what’s bothering you, Little Lady.” The phantom whispered to me. Little lady- I haven’t heard that in years. Such a long time now. What the hell could it hurt? It’s not going to matter in the end. It’s just another test.

I asked him, but I didn't see any fear in his eyes despite what he knew. "No," he answered, and that relieved me. But why isn't he scared of me? It's strange. "Why?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity. "Huh? Why what?" "I said, why aren't you scared of me?" "Oh, is that what you meant?" he asked, and I nodded. Was this just a game of nodding? "Because that's not a thing anymore. We're in the 21st century, for heaven's sake. That's an old thing, only old people do that."

“Little Bun, I have succeeded. My daddy and your mommy are in the room now but my daddy is so scary. He said that he wants to beat the crap out of me. I guess that I will die a horrible death tomorrow. I need to come to your house to take refuge.”

It couldn't be this woman who looked out of place, or could it be? "Thank you for meeting with me," the lady said sniffing in and looking around suspiciously then back at Octavia like she was scared that someone was probably watching her movement. "I wasn't sure we would ever get to meet." "Not like I had a choice with the creepy messages you were sending me every second," Octavia reminded her as she stared at her.

When he finally stood to leave, he paused by the door, turned to me and said playfully. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Poppy.” I looked up, my voice soft. “It’s not you I’m afraid of.” He gave me a long, searching look. “Then who?” My lips parted, but no words came. Because the truth was, I was afraid of myself.

Zitumi muttered, trailing around me now. Phew. She can’t read minds. But this is getting uncomfortable fast! “What.. what do you mean?” I asked her, struggling to keep my eyes on her as she measured perfect circles around me. “The rest of us can see who you really are inside.” She said. What is she saying? Must all old people be weird and labyrinthine with their wordings? “And that’s the reason they’re scared of me?” I said, remembering she had mentioned that earlier. “Yes.” The old lady finally stopped circling me.

But I am a little scared, I have to say… ---------------

And now I had my hands up and myself bare… "I'm afraid..." I confessed now, but muffled and almost inaudible. My face going to the ground in embarrassment. "What are you afraid of?..." he asked immediately, his brows furrowing deeper. "I'm afraid of everything... the people... today, the crowd, myself, my past, who I am and everything else... I don't like myself, and I don't because I'm afraid no one would like me, and no one would accept me..." I continued. "I'm afraid these people don't truly love me, I'm afraid the elders won't be in agreement. I'm scared the people down there are only happy as long as they fed from noticing that I'm a rogue..."

The old man looked up at me—eyes gone wildz "I—I cannot!" he sobbed. "If I speak... he'll kill me! He'll kill all of us!" He trembled so violently the mail spilled across the dirt. Kyle stepped forward, brow furrowed. "Who? Who are you afraid of?" Levi growled, "If it's Dante—" "It's not the Alpha!" the servant cried. Oh? Now that was interesting. I crouched down just enough to meet his eye level. "Then who?"

I nod my head in response and look over to Melissa who seems to be unhappy about her friend complimenting my dress. "What is the name of your mother's clothing brand?" Clara asks, curiously. I smile and say, "Little Angels." Melissa's expression completely changes from unhappy to shock while the other girls gasp as if they didn't believe what I said. "As in the famous Little Angel fashion designer Nova Swift? The same one who designs dresses for famous celebrities when they walk down the red carpet?" Brielle asks again. I nod my head in response and say, "Yeah that's my mom."