Like It's The Afterlife

Like It's The Afterlife

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing14m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Sep 12, 2015
WpInfo
Fiction
Paranormal
I thought I was like any other college student, worrying about classes and everything else a college student worries about. My life is also complicated. My family may be from Egypt was born an American. My father tried to arrange a marriage between me and a man that is old enough to be my father and I didn't want that. I want to be Special Agent Assia Farid, FBI agent. It all came to an end one balmy September night when my family killed me. Now I have to watch my friends grieve for my loss and my family having to face the American justice system.
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Hayley- A 23 year old woman who has been through so much in her teen years. Her struggles are unimaginable. Her life in New York is much different than her old town. She's bought a house now, across from a nice little family, with a daughter named Evelyn. Ethan- He moved to New York mere months ago, not knowing that is also where Hayley lives. Will they cross paths? What will happen when, if, they do? Will their relationship go back to the way it was before? -----------------‐--------------------------------------------------- "Hi, my names Ethan... and uhm. I'm an addict." "Hi, Ethan." "So, uhm. A lot has happened recently. I guess, you know, I could start from the beginning. I'm...uh... I'm not really sure what the beginning is, so just give me a second." God, where do I even start. Maybe I could start with he fact that the love of my life was... assaulted? But, I really don't think that's my story to share. She did that on her own. I could start with how she got pregnant. Is it really my story if I don't include some of Hayley's in it as well? I do start with that. I explain how her parents refused to let her keep her beautiful baby girl. I talk about her and Jayden. Not the assault part, but I vaguely explain the abuse. I talk about the attempt. How she hasn't spoken to me since. Fuck. 5 years. I don't even know if she tried again. Jesus christ, the last time I saw her, she was fucking bleeding out. No. Stop. Stop picturing it. I talk about how I texted her when I got out of jail. I didn't explain much, just enough so she would understand why I hadn't replied to her multiple texts. I talk about how I fell back into my habits. To be honest, it was going to happen either way. We all felt it coming. -----------------‐--------------------------------------------------- #19 in latest- 2/20/25

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