Aroboa
  • LECTURAS 27
  • Votos 2
  • Partes 6
  • Hora 25m
  • LECTURAS 27
  • Votos 2
  • Partes 6
  • Hora 25m
Continúa, Has publicado sep 01, 2019
He walks too far and gets lost and can't find his way home, anymore, another white man finds him and kidnaps him to bring to the boarding school, but they're all full.
So, he stays with a foster family less than perfect, the used to be mother a grumpy, yet, kind-ish woman, while her husband was the opposite, he beat everyone in the house, his wife and Wakatongu, Maryonn, the wife, ignored 
Wakatongu for 12 days until she remembered her first son, who died staying in a mansion at the end of town mysteriously at six,  he would have been 9-years-old by now, she thought crying, sitting in her rocking chair in front of the (her) left corner of the fireplace, Wakatongu watched her cry alone.

It went down 1879, on Feb 1, his birthday, he died playing with his albino cousins.

He saw a light and it hit him in the head and he died.
All non-albinos died.

The 49 mile part of the edge of town was filled with devastation and bodies.
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This was my first time. I patiently waited for the man Dua Begum told me would be my first to bed with. After starting to bleed two years ago, my stepmother left me at a pleasure house when my father abandoned us. Since then, I've accepted the pleasure house as my new home. He walked in a black Kurta with subtle green eyes and a deep voice. The moment he asked my name and age and then proposed to me for the wedding, I fell in love. There was no denying it. I was just fifteen, and he was nineteen. But, ever since the night of our wedding, he has not come back to take me with him to his home. He left me alone, stranded, burning for him. I did not know who he was. What did he do? All I knew was that he was the soul of my World. My Jaan-e-Jahan. Seven years later, he came back as a storm in my life. As Sultan Rehman Sulaiman. The son of the man who took everything from my family, even before my birth. The reason I ended up in the Pleasure House in the first place. But my love for my husband, the Sultan, is bigger than the mountains, deeper than the oceans, and wider than the skies, even though he is himself a Mountain, impossible to move, an ocean, scaring people to stay away, and a wide sky, impossible to reach. Discipline is everything for him. He is full of love and respect for his family but equally heartless and dangerous toward those who cross him. And, in all of this, I entered his life as a burning flame, a tiny candle's flame, dancing for his attention, crying for his affection, and dying for his love. Until he killed my only loved one. My love died. And, his never bloomed. I was once a bud, unbloomed Rose, who opened my deep red petals for him, and he turned them black, leaving me forgotten inside the dying pages. Was I always forgotten for him? Did he never consider me anything more than a mere responsibility? Will I always be remembered as Bride of Sultan ~ The Forgotten Rose? Mature Content!!! @Copyright 2025
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