Story cover for Frail Bridge by ThatGuyHoldingAPen
Frail Bridge
  • WpView
    Reads 74
  • WpVote
    Votes 15
  • WpPart
    Parts 6
  • WpHistory
    Time 11m
  • WpView
    Reads 74
  • WpVote
    Votes 15
  • WpPart
    Parts 6
  • WpHistory
    Time 11m
Ongoing, First published Jan 08, 2018
Would you take risk going to the other side of the frail bridge just to be with the one who loves you? Or would you just stand there watching the person you love crying while watching the frail bridge falling?

Author's Note:

Characters and scenes are only fictional and just a product of the Author's imagination. If there are any scenes or events here that is similar to yours, it's purely coincidental. DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REDISTRIBUTE, DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. No parts of this story should be reproduced in any form or by any means without the Author's permission. Take note, Plagiarism is a sin.

Credits to the rightful owner of the resources I've used in making the book cover. If you are the owner of the resources and you don't want it to be used, you can message my account and I will remove it as soon as possible.]

©ThatGuyHoldingAPen2016

***All Rights Reserved***
All Rights Reserved
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growing up and growing apart sometimes people who really love you have to leave you for your own good and it's okay to grow apart holding on to things that hurt isn't a wise choice They broke up in college but now are forced into an arranged marriage Will the sparks fly again or........ ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Wrong place, wrong time, wrong people, right man Surrounded with unfortunate events, unfortunate people Those slim waists, slim faces, long hair and long nails Those long legs, large hands, fluffy hair and beaded bracelets They don't belong together last days, best times, red hands and playing fights Social priorities, diwali parties, arm wrestling and life stories That's the closure I needed Searching the crows, you stand tall, stand out Walking out of that building with hurt hands and burnt minds scholar badge, scholar board, Council badges and red coats brown pants,white shirts, black shoes and red ties Sprawling crowds, yellow buses, red rickshaws and black cycles ice cream man, Mother Dairy, white vans and red lights Saw you walking on the footpath with rolled up sleeves with few friends I wouldn't wish I would be there I couldn't wish I could be there Could you be specific who do you like? Blinding lights, goodbyes, Friday promises and exam time White walls, black boards, blue desks and A/C nobs Sweet memories scattered in my head Teardrops all over my bed These are the things I'll never forget And that's the price I paid cover credit: pinterest
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*EDITORS' CHOICE 2021*After falling for her senior year teacher, Louise learns a harsh lesson on what adulthood isn't. Louise has some trauma to unpack. Heartbreak's a bitch, and her first relationship had been anything but normal. Thinking herself mature for her age, her affair with Mr. Cain started swooningly well. Except things ended quite abruptly. It's a lot for a seventeen year old to handle. But who's really at fault for what happened? Who even is Mr. Cain, and what is he hiding? From the wreckage of her naivety and self-esteem, can Louise save her friendships and rebuild herself? Our love songs aren't telling the whole truth. How can this be? In this tale of vulnerability, adolescence and painful reckoning, the arrogance of youth demands a price. * "'You're what, Louise?' he asked. 'You're sorry? What am I supposed to do here? How can I turn this around? How can I tell you that everything you want and feel is reciprocated, when I have to go back to work and pretend none of it happened?' 'I don't know the answer!' I cried. 'Neither of us do.' I threw my hands up in defeat. He caught them before they could fall. 'But how do I go back to living without your words?' His voice became a whisper. He squeezed my fingers tightly, closing his eyes and bringing them to his chest. 'I need how you make me feel, Luiza. I need it to feel alive. I won't stay away. No one's made me feel this good before. And I can't stand myself for wanting what I want. What do I do?' I was a violin bow on the verge of splintering. Every inch of me pulsed with an ache that began from the marrow of my bones. Fate had brought us here. At this crossroads of ours, there were a hundred different choices to make. A thousand different lifetimes to choose from, stemming from and decided entirely by my next choice. And in the end, I chose incorrectly. I held his face between my hands, feeling the echoing pulse of his skin. I brought his face to mine. I kissed him."