Your Narrator Real Name Romane & Geschichten

I might as well get to the point. “When I first introduced myself to you and your family, I went by the name Sergio Huppert, but my real name is Sergio Garnier. Huppert is just my grandparents’ name from my mother’s side, and Garnier is my father’s last name. I am not turning twenty-seven this year, but I am turning twenty-nine,” “Stop, just stop,” She orders me, breathlessly. “Please let me, Paula,”

But I didn't fall because he grabbed my arm and held it steady. "Wait a minute, lady...?" He wanted me to say my name, but I couldn't because my voice was gone and my mouth felt like it was full of sand. "By the way, my name is Garner. But everyone just calls me Kover... isn't that too far from my real name? I'm not sure why they referred to me as this." Garner. Sounds like Goner.

he asked, with a hint of curiosity in his tone. "Nina, sir," I replied, the irony of using my real name not lost on me. "Nina Salvatore." For a moment, there was silence. Then he spoke again, but this time, his voice was softer, like the one I was used to. "Nina?” You remind me of someone I once knew."

He offered, and I went on. "My name is Jasmine and yes, I am telling the truth."

Crazy people wandering the industrial districts looking for empty buildings to squat in is hardly a headline event. I reach for the control to dim the monitor. "False alarm. Just a stray." Then the audio sensor spikes into the red. The kid on the street cups his hands around his mouth, throws his head back, and screams. "KIRILL NIKOLAEV!" I freeze. The coffee cup in my hand threatens to crack under the pressure of my grip. My real name. Not my road name. Not my handle. My legal, birth certificate, Russian-government-file name. Screamed at the top of a stranger’s lungs in the middle of Brooklyn.

She isn't dead. But before I continue, allow me to take an oath that whatever I say and you'll hear from me in this audio. Is all completely true. I will not lie—I will never lie, for Sierra is a special person to me. You know me as Archer, just the twenty-two-year-old guy who loves doing podcasts about infamous criminals all over the world. But behind this, I am also a person who gets involved in a criminal case. No, I am not the bad person nor the criminal in my story—I am the victim.

I pleaded for all of this to be a dream. “My name isn’t Reiner. It’s an alias I use while serving the Rosenhall family,” Reiner stated flatly. “…what?” I whispered in shock. There were just too many things to take in and I couldn’t keep up. My eyes hurt from all the crying, and I was finding it hard to breath. My head felt like it was going to explode, and I felt like throwing up. This can’t be true…this can’t be happening… “You didn’t have to put it that way, Reiner,”

“I haven’t cried since I was twelve.” He didn’t joke. Just sat still. “That’s not a flex.” “I wasn’t trying to brag.” “Sometimes strength isn’t not crying,” he said. “Sometimes it’s knowing when to let yourself fall apart.” Natasha looked at him, unsettled by how much that hit. He just sipped his drink. She turned to the window. “Your turn.” “My real name’s not Jeremy.” “What?” “It’s Jeromias. But people butcher it, so... Jeremy is stuck.”

But that is the consequece I must face for even ever lying to you guys. You guys deserve the truth. I know you guys may not want to hear the truth anymore. But I need to tell you guys. Even if I don't deserve the chance at being honest anymore. I need to tell you guys. My real name is Corinna Ayala. I really was born on Christmas Day in two-thousand. My childhood was normal. I was normal. Until I wasn't. I had always been extremely smart for my age. Like, very advanced. I was twelve when everything happened.

She looked at me like I had two heads, but I could see that her breathing was slowly becoming more even. "My name is Ale," I said as I put out my right hand. "Freelance photographer and most outgoing idiot in the world." I learned a long time ago that it was a bad idea to tell people my real credentials outside of work. Too many people went crazy when they found out you had a lot of money.