Story cover for Something More Than This by OfficialASHTORI
Something More Than This
  • WpView
    Reads 102
  • WpVote
    Votes 53
  • WpPart
    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 3h 29m
  • WpView
    Reads 102
  • WpVote
    Votes 53
  • WpPart
    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 3h 29m
Ongoing, First published Apr 01
2 new parts
High school senior Jason Morris has been living something of a double life. On one hand, he's one of the best cellists in his school's recent history and a half-decent student. On the other hand, he's spent years deeply intertwined with the street life of West Midnight, a neighborhood that sticks out like a sore thumb in the town of Midnight and a place where fate is not kind to the residents. Jason knows better than to think he'll be the exception to this curse, boys like him are especially unlikely to get out of West Midnight, but he's come to peace with it over the past half a decade.
At least, Jason is at peace with everything until he has his chance to become one of the lucky ones. With an offer from the area's best arts college hanging over his head, Jason must choose which part of his life he's going to hold on to, and which part he's going to let go of. Is he going to get out of this neighborhood and have a chance to become something greater than he ever imagined, or is he going to live and die a West Midnight boy through and through? And what will the choice he makes give him or cost him?
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ISHARA: Abused Angel

29 parts Ongoing

In a quiet, misty district of Himachal Pradesh, in a small orphanage called Sparsh Ashram, lived a fragile, gentle girl named Ishara. Her eyes held a quiet innocence, untouched by the harshness of the world, yet shadowed with a deep, unspoken sorrow. When she was only four, her stepfather-the one who had once called her his life-had left her. He discovered she was the product of her mother's betrayal, and in his heartbreak, he turned away. Since then, Ishara had grown up in the soft, lonely halls of the orphanage, her heart tender, her spirit delicate, carrying a pain that even time could not erase. At fifteen, she was still small, almost like a fragile bird in a vast, unkind sky-beautiful, innocent, and quietly brave. .................................................................................................... ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨