Which Path?_This Isn't The Movies_Soulmates_Best Day Ever
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Which Pathwww.onedoor.cc?
You may see me now and wonder who I am and what I am doing. Well, I wish I knew. My life depends on what I decide here. What am I to do about it? What will I decide? I am about to graduate and I have to choose my path. The decision deadline is approaching quite quickly. Most of my peers are exploring the path that they chose. How could someone have already made up their mind? It seems impossible. Some are looking for the path they like.Not me. Maybe it is a path, with so many options how am I supposed to know which path is mine, and what makes a path? So I am pondering all my life decisions. ...
This Isn't The Movies
I used to love Halloween. I loved the candy and the costumes and scaring my little brother half to death. Most of all, I loved it when we came home. Mom and Dad would sit on the couch and turn on a Halloween movie while Brian and I would dump out all our candy on the rug and boast about how many jolly ranchers we got. We would stay up till midnight--or until we passed out--trading candy and watching Halloween themed movies but never scary movies. I could never watch scary movies before I went to bed or I’d end up sleeping in my parent’s room.Those were my favorite days. Halloween was the best ...
Soulmates
"Watch where you're going!", I angrily blurt out as I look at all my papers scattered on the floor. " "Oh, I'm so sorry", the girl that just bumped into me says, almost with tears in her eyes. I sigh as I kneel down to collect my papers. I was expecting her to help me but to my surprise, she only backs away from me. Wow, way to go Talia. You just scared someone you just met."I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you", I tell her, making the anger in my eyes slowly disappear. "It's okay", she answers but I just feel the uncomfortableness. "I'm Talia", I say as I hold out my hand. She hesitantly g...
Best Day Ever
“Good morning, miss.” Her voice was gentle, as was the velvety soft hand on my bare shoulder, but neither could soothe the pounding in my skull. I offered some sort of noise resembling a distressed animal to let her know I was alive. Opening my eyes was too much to ask. “You requested a personal wake-up,” she said, her voice again sliding like butter, and I carefully forced open one eye.“I’m up,” I managed. I could not believe I was hungover. I had done everything in my power to avoid this, I mean, outside of not drinking. I had hydrated all day, not to mention the two water bottles I had cons...