Story cover for Secret by diamondbeauty205
Secret
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Complete, First published May 03, 2021
Mature
"Shh!"

                                            "There All Secrets"

Otis  said To Him Self, "Wondering upon a shooting star" 

"How could she Do This to me" He Asked Once More.

" I just Don't Understand How Could This Happen" He Said To Him Self While Facing His Sleeping Beauty.

"I just don't get it" He Thought with Rage.

Being Caught into a love Triangle As A Man Is A Mess Between Three people.

Especially After Ending a Big Love Affair with My GirlFriend Laney,

She Just Couldn't Resist how Busy I Was as a Business man.

But Sometimes loving a Women Who would Risk it All including Losing Her Boyfriend ,

Gets Hard For Me To Understand The Bigger Picture

                                                   "Why?"

Right Before Closing My Eyes,

 There Was A Poem I Had I'm mind,

And It Says.

                               By Diamond Machelle Rose,


It's Just As Shallow like the Harlem Nights.


Just Like The Questions that Appears to me At Night,


Why can't you be trusted?,


Do you follow the rules upon yourself.


Your mysterious as can be,


So mysterious that everyone Else knows Except me.


Run but don't hide or I will find You.


#Secret  #poetry 

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Enver Williams is leading on a normal life but that is all ripped away from her when she is taken from her home town. When Enver comes to realize that there are others like her in more ways than one, she is determined to free herself and her newfound friends from the physiological torment of her closely supervised enclosure. ••• "Do I make you nervous, Enver?" Another idiotic question. "Wouldn't the man who kidnapped you and threatened to kill you make you nervous?" I snap at him. He only smiles an odd, crooked grin. I can make that disappear. "Wouldn't a murder make you nervous?" Now it's my turn to pull the strings. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes. "How many times do I have to say it?" He pauses, I guess hoping for some sort of mercy in my eyes, "I didn't kill her." "Liar!" I shout. "Why won't you believe me?!" "Would you believe yourself?" "It wasn't me who shot her," he sits on a stool, resting his elbows on his knees. "Then how do you know she was shot?" "I saw it. I saw him kill her," his voice was riddled with such pure vulnerability and pain it begged me to believe him. "Who?" I try to sound sympathetic, but it comes out as scared. Maybe, subconsciously, I am scared.