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Not Like The Others

Not Like The Others

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WpMetadataReadOngoing1h 47m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Nov 5, 2020
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Fiction
Romance
"You're sweet," Sylass says, gazing at me from his seat on the grass beside me. I turn to look at him, a peculiar type of confusion clouding my face. "Sugar is sweet. Cake is sweet. Elderberry jam is sweet. I am not sweet. You need to realize that now before it is too late. You need to put as much distance between me and you as humanly possible. Now before it is too late."
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#544
hipster
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My life before was just like my name, Haven. Everything was peaceful, everything went my way, and I had everything that I needed. If I wanted something, I'd have it in a snap. I didn't need to move, make an effort, or work for it. I just needed my daddy's tiny rectangular card that might look insignificant but carried the world on its little sharp edges. Money might not equate to happiness, but it certainly made life easier for me. And yet a year later, from heaven I was dropped into my version of hell. Now, I'm standing in the aisle of a grocery store, wondering if I should just buy another batch of instant noodles because I don't want to waste money-money that I barely have to begin with-on food that will just end up being barely edible. Was that the hell I'm talking about? No. It's working unbelievably long hours just to get paid basically nothing, and wanting to buy food to eat because I haven't had one meal for the day, only to end up having a gun on my head. Oh, and before I forget-kidnapped! At a grocery store! My version of hell? It's the tattooed, hot-headed Italian and head of a secret criminal society, Allessio Cascella. Written by: MsButterfly Cover by: Yrra Book Cover

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