The 99: Penny's Angel

The 99: Penny's Angel

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Dec 10, 2015
“There have been days where I’ve wondered if the entire world was asleep except for me and a handful of puppeteer bankers. And there have been days where I wish I would never wake up. But there have been days when we made a difference and those days changed the world. It took da Vinci four years to paint the Mona Lisa. It’s taken me forty plus years to alter the consciousness of a small portion of this cities remaining population. Like da Vinci, my masterpiece was never completed. We came close to ending the elite’s stranglehold over the ninety-nine...so close. My son loves me, but for the love of a woman, chose not to follow my cause. Instead, he promised to be my biographer and hopefully, if tomorrow’s morning sun is greeted by survivors, the story of The 99 will be documented for future generations. I don’t expect to be an inspiration to you. I only hope you open your eyes. I hope you paint your own masterpiece and then share it with everyone. And remember... You are not alone.”
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I used to think I was living the life people only dream about. Everything looked perfect on the outside - the smiles, the success, the routine that gave me comfort. I had the freedom, the admiration, and the illusion of happiness. I truly believed that this was it - the life I had worked so hard to build, the one everyone else wished they had. But then he came into my world - unexpected and uninvited, like a storm that doesn't ask permission before it breaks everything in its path. He was unlike anyone I had ever met. A man cloaked in mystery, always quiet, always observing, like he carried the weight of a thousand secrets. People knew his name, admired him from a distance, but no one really knew him. And he liked it that way. He wasn't kind in the way the world expects. He wasn't soft or gentle. He didn't chase approval, and he didn't waste time pretending. His world was cold and guarded - his heart only opening for the few he truly cared about: his family, and the rare souls he dared to love. And yet, somehow, I was drawn to him. Not just to his mystery, but to the way he made me feel - like I was no longer the polished, perfect version of myself I had grown so used to pretending to be. Around him, the mask I wore for years slowly cracked. I started seeing pieces of myself I didn't know existed. He turned my world upside down. He didn't just make me feel - he made me question everything. Who I was. What I wanted. Who I was pretending to be. I became someone I no longer recognized - not the girl with the perfect life, but someone raw, confused, aching for something real. He didn't just enter my life. He changed it. He changed me.

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