Felicia's Fortune Chapter 1: Leaving Home_A Change to Pursue_Aubade and Requiem_School of Though
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Felicia's Fortune Chapter 1: Leaving Home
This story is inspired by Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Magnus Chase and the gods of Asgard, and my siblings.If you are reading this, you are most likely in danger. After you read this, burn the evidence so They don’t find you. Run and don’t look back. Pass on the story in secret, but only to others like you. My name is Felicia Quackenbush, and this is the story of how my life fell apart.
A Change to Pursue
“Must I always do this?”“Can’t I just have them in there?”“Wherever. My head or my mind.” These were the thoughts filtering through Jason’s mind.“Well, it’s better to have them written down. I can always go back to update myself and make a review.”Jason Page is having a hard time deciding on whether to have a to do-list written down. He has been in and out on this. Precisely, he hasn’t done it for a while in the reason that he hasn’t found it effective. It’s been the same old story. It’s been the same unaccomplished tasks. It’s been the same pursuit and strivings. Nothing seems to have changed...
Aubade and Requiem
They will ask me where I was when this happened, thought Mira. Some day, if I am blessed with them, my grandchwww.onedoor.ccildren, and even my great grandchildren will ask me, and I will tell them I saw it all unfold on a television screen, and that I turned it on just for a bit of background, just for “wallpaper”, and wondered why they were showing a horror film on a news channel at that hour in the morning. She sat transfixed and terrified as those two great towers turned into pillars of flame, and a scar was cut through them that would never heal. She sat and trembled and wept as a glorious autumn day t...
School of Thought
Mary rushed inside the house, locked the door behind her and shuffled slowly to the kitchen. The kitchen, that’s where it was, waiting for her. She was in no hurry to get there plus she was out of breath. Her brisk walk truly was a workout. Going for a walk was supposed to make one feel better, not so in this case. Entering the kitchen, her eyes fixed on the letter resting on the bench by the sink, it was from her mother. Daring not go any closer she parked herself at the dining table and stared at the envelope. Her name in beautiful cursive writing, the address so formal but decorated with li...