Emica Kana is 18 years old. She has always loved writing stories., They were her escape from reality. She always wished that a man would come and save her like they always do in the stories.
Well, she got her wish.
Emica entered a small writing school that was near a river. Her friend had joined her. But, the teacher had an odd vibe around him. Emica became a little scared of him. She especially became scared when the teacher started to pay more attention to her. One day, when she runs from him, she falls into a world of adventure, risk, and abnormalities. 
But, her teacher is what scares her more than this new world. What secrets and schemes did he use to get her here?

Staying with Eva certainly wasn't boring. On the first night they were at her house she insisted they were going to burn through as many Disney movies as possible so Hazel would know who all they bothered standing in line to take pictures with. 
She hadn't realized her lack of knowledge had been so apparent. But Eva wasn't unkind about it. It seemed more like she wanted to share something fun that she liked than she thought Hazel was crazy for not knowing before. 
Most of the movies were pretty cute. Exactly the sort of things kids tended to eat up. 
Hazel had enjoyed it too once upon a time. Her parents used to put those types of movies on for her and sometimes even take her to see them in theaters. 
She used to wish they would play movies while she was in the mental hospital. But after meeting Will and hearing all of the amazing things there were to know about the real world, the fictional one hadn't appealed to her as much anymore. 
Besides, once she got out her uncle wasn't the type to allow children's movies in his house. He didn't like the slightest bit of noise indicating she existed most of the time. That was the only reason he supplied her with minimal art supplies. 
Drawing was always an effective way to shut her up. As she went back to school and was able to check out books from its library she tried to draw the things she read about. There were even some guides on how to draw that helped her a lot as she tried to improve. 
Hazel spent the remainder of her elementary school days and most of middle school as well refining her technique. She was so absorbed by all there was to learn that she had no interest in friends so it wasn't like anybody other than her uncle would have taken her to the movies either. 
When they weren't watching movies, Eva wanted to hear more about Hazel's life. There really wasn't much to tell leaving out her juicy past. She was a pretty boring person. 
Talking about her art was a fairly safe topic. She mentioned that she had been interested in it basically her whole life so it was the obvious career choice even though people advised her against it. 
Everything had worked out in the end. She landed this comic job, which looked great on her resume. And after that she ended up married to someone who was willing and able to buy her all the art supplies she could ever want. Will had kept his promise quite well even if it was later than she had hoped. 
Getting here had been a rough road though. Her uncle didn't support her dreams and refused to pay for her to go to art school. He had barely acknowledged her when she got a scholarship by buying her a school sweatshirt. 
All of her high school teachers (except the art teacher) were against it too. They thought she was wasting her brains on a field that wouldn't pay well or offer a consistent job unless she decided to be a graphic designer. 
Hazel didn't want to spend her entire life creating lifeless things for other people. She refused to go down that road, even if it meant picking up a bunch of odd jobs to get by. 
Graphic designers didn't have any sort of creative freedom whatsoever in her mind. She needed to be unrestrained and free in her art or she felt choked. Even working with a finicky author like Eva was far superior to making logos all day. 
The nice thing was that Eva understood how she felt about taking the easy road. She could have gone to grad school to become a social worker like every other psychology major she knew because it was the 'smart choice' with that degree. Social workers, like graphic designers, were in high demand. 
But she was one to take the road less traveled by. If she went back to grad school it would be to specialize in the very specific field she wanted and nothing less. 
She had told Hazel how she ended up where she was now, in what her mother called 'a career dead end.' Yes, she was working two jobs and didn't have the most glamorous lifestyle but she made enough to do fun things every so often like their trip in Florida. 
The point was that she was doing what she wanted and didn't feel a rush to change that. Hazel could respect that. 
What she was less fond of was that Eva's interest in true crime and serial killers was because she was genuinely intrigued by criminology. Her eventual goal was to work for the FBI as a profiler. 
Wanting to catch people like her parents' killer wasn't the part she was upset by. It was how she consumed countless amounts of media about serial killers and other famous criminals and helped perpetuate sales and popularity for those things. 
It was people like her who kept the market for such grotesque things open. Those she truly despised—the people who capitalized on other people's pain by writing books picking apart the sick minds of killers—made money off of people like Eva. It was why they kept doing it. 
She had seen the book on the Bay Area Blade that had largely inspired his inclusion in that docuseries in a stack on the coffee table. It had taken all of her willpower to keep her mouth shut about it.
The series had already started airing and Hazel desperately hoped Eva wouldn't want to watch it while she was stuck here. She wasn't sure she would calmly be able to explain why she couldn't bear to watch that crap. 
Three days passed and there was no sign of the snow letting up back home so she would have to stay here a while longer. That show aired on Sundays and it was Thursday now. More than anything she wanted the airport to be cleared for travel before then.

“I’ll marry anyone who will take me!” Hazel declared loudly. “I don’t need love!”

“Get down!” Will hissed. “You don’t know what kind of people are lurking around in here! Talking like that might get you killed!”

==

Hazel Dixon thought she was putting her troubled past behind her. But when the person she thought she trusted most betrays her, she loses her head and proposes to an entire bar full of strangers. 

Enter Will Sheffield, a charming stranger who decides to take her up on her offer to save her from herself. 

He spoils her rotten without expecting anything in return and Hazel's confusion only grows. She doesn't know why he is acting this way. Or why he reminds her so much of the 'dangerous' childhood friend she thought was gone forever...

Daeva after bumping with Juno, she thought that her behavior wasn't so nice. But when the school bell rings, she snapped out of it and went to her designated room for her subject. Daeva is a fourth year college student in Literature and Creative Writing. She thought of becoming a writer to write literary pieces based on her experiences. Also, she thought that becoming a writer would allow her to have a small chance of interacting with people.

When she was about to enter her room, her Professor bumped into her. Mrs. Sanchez smiled at her. Daeva greeted her good morning and Mrs. Sanchez greeted her in return.

They both entered the room and Daeva sat at the second row. Mrs. Sanchez greeted her class and began discussing a lesson about her subject. She kept blabbing in front while Daeva glanced at the window. She caught a glimpse of Juno who's about to leave the school gates. As she follows Juno with her eyes, she began to feel a sharp pain at her left forearm. She didn't bother looking at it, she knows that it's currently bleeding so she just pulled her black sleeves lower. She returned her attention to her discussing professor and listens to her.

A couple of subjects passed then Daeva's lunch break arrived. She quickly ate at the cafeteria before going to the library. The school's library was enormous. It's also where the book club is rooming. Daeva is a member of the Book club and happens to be a good friend of Kevin, the Book club's president. When Daeva came in, she found Kevin fixing books that weren't returned to the proper shelve. She just picked up some books that were left at the tables and did the same. There weren't too much people in the library for now so she started casually chatting with Kevin.

"Hey Kev, you seem frustrated... What's wrong??" asked Daeva.

"Student School Council Vice President...She destroyed my morning." said Kevin casually.

"What did she do to you?" Daeva felt curious.

"Oh nothing...She just shuted me out... refusing to do some student council duties...or simply take the proposal and leave it to miss President's table... That's all..." Kevin replied.

Daeva didn't asked further what happened...But then, she felt like the person who she bumped with earlier at the hall way was the Vice President.

"The Vice President, was she the campus belle I keep hearing about." Daeva asked.

"Hmm? Yeah, that's her...Why, what's up?" asked Kevin as he finished arranging the books.

"I think she's the pretty blonde girl I bumped with this early morning. She wasn't really polite." Daeva said as she scratches the area where she felt pain while staring at Juno.

Kevin saw Daeva scratched her forearm right bellow her palm. He looked at Daeva with malicious intent. His lips curved up at one side. He then grab Daeva's hand and brought her to the school's clinic. Daeva didn't resisted and just followed Kevin.

The nurse was currently out of the clinic so Daeva's forearm can be treated. She pulled her sleeve up and let Kevin treat her wound. Kevin cleaned the blood off and covered it with bandage. When he was done, Daeva thanked Kevin and they came back to the library. 

There, while Daeva was waiting for her next class like Kevin, they decided to read a book. Daeva picked a random fantasy book while Kevin opened his laptop and read about demons.

"Let's go home together later and just order pizza for dinner, what do you say?" Kevin offered to Daeva.

Daeva just nodded, it's not very often that they go home together. Daeva and Kevin are roommates and oftentimes, Daeva gets home first before Kevin because of his club president duties.

Almost an hour have passed and Kevin closed his laptop. It's time for his next class, Daeva still have over half an hour before her next subject so Kevin just left her. When Kevin left the library, the atmosphere in the library became gloomy. Anyone who's in there felt uncomfortable, some left but some ignored it. Daeva is feeling a bit irritated but what can she do? She can't get rid of them...never...

Daeva kept reading until its just 15min left before her next class. She stood up from her sit and returned the book into one of the shelves. She felt a hand caressed her cheek and hear a chuckle. Daeva ignored it and left the library.

When she's out of the library, she can feel that someone ran "its" fingers on her hair. Her mouth was twitching, slowly forming a malicious grin. She covered her mouth with her hands, then, she took out a face mask from her pants's pocket and covered her grin. She went to her next class as if nothing had happened.

She still have 2 subjects left for her to survive. Her 3rd subject for the day passed as if it was a filler chapter of her day. Nothing very interesting occurred nor the class. But on her final subject of the day: Creative Writing, the class was given an activity and that is to write a poem. The poem have no specific theme but should be rhyming.

Writing poems weren't a problem for Daeva at all. She doesn't limit herself when it comes to writing and its subject. She writes what's in her mind and what she feels. They we're given an hour and when they were done, they are then dismissed. Daeva finished after 30min, she's always the first one to finish. As she passed her work and leaves the room, her professor Mr.Wilson gave her work a read.

Trigger

Young ignorant little girl,
Your heart is a black pearl.
His tongue hungers for you...
He will dye your silk a red hue.
Do not dare taunt him further
Beware, his claws are no feather.
You can't produce what he desires,
He shall come and take his prize.
Do as the old men say,
There is a price if you disobey;
Outgrow your childish ways
Or he who you shall face!

This is a collection of different stories but all told by one person, Daeva. A mysterious young woman who's always very reserved and isolated from everyone. You may approach her like anyone else but beware...

This is a horror/suspense story...please read with caution. You might not be able to sleep at night with lights off and open doors and windows.

"Hmm.. let's just ignore all the people then. " 

They sat there talking and teasing each other for some more time before heading to their respective homes. 


ONE YEAR LATER

Shradha walked into  Computer Science department. She had to meet the dean of the department regarding her project. After discussing for 45 minutes about the project, the dean wanted to speak to her regarding future plans and higher studies. He gave examples of a few seniors who were currently pursuing masters abroad and urged Shradha to think about masters. He seemed to think that with her grades, projects and coding experience all the good universities were within reach. He had said it would increase her value in the job market. Shradha had promised to research further about scholarships and other things for his sake. 

"At home, dad wants to increase my value in the wedding market; here the dean wants to increase my value in the job market. Why are people behind increasing my value !?" Shradha murmured jokingly. She walked to her scooty thinking Nishant would have enjoyed that dialogue. 

Within one year, a lot of things had changed, not just for Shradha and Nishant, but for others as well.  Prithvi and Rohan were integral part of their life and 4 of them hung out a lot at Rohan's apartment. Technically it was a shared place between  Prithvi and Rohan but  Prithvi paid only a small part of the rent while all other expenses were taken care by Rohan. They knew very well how to balance each others family and financial situation. Rohan was from a wealthy family in Delhi while  Prithvi was from a lower middle class family in Bengaluru.  Prithvi stayed in hostel as his home was far from college and daily commute was tiresome, but he visited home regularly. Rohan accompanied him most of time as  Prithvi's parents knew that he was homesick. So they showered Rohan with love and care. Rohan's family was grateful to know that someone was taking care of their precious son well. So they had never objected Rohan even when he spent a lot of money for  Prithvi. Both families were happy about their friendship.

Nishant had been spending a major part of his day in their apartment. He thought that their apartment was the perfect place for him to work on his writing. He would go back home mostly for eating and speaking in the night. Sheela had been really unhappy about this development, but there was nothing she could do. Her son did not respond to her emotional blackmails like earlier. In a way he had grown immune to her words. He would just smile and get on with his work. Nishant always tried his best not to be rude to Sheela or fight with her. He would just listen to her without actually listening to her and never argued back. This was the tactic his father had taught him secretly and this trick saved Nishant from stress. Then again, he hardly spent time at home. Writing had become one of the important part of Nishant and somehow Rohan's bachelor pad was the perfect place for him to be creative and write. Nishant had also been taking more responsibilities at lit club and he had been the chief editor of the college magazine for the last few months. 

***

****Ongoing re-write****


‘Agar Tum Saath Ho’ means ‘If you are with me’ in Hindi. These simple words could explain how shradha felt about Nishant. He was her sole source of energy; He was the only person who could sense her emotional distress and calm her down easily. He was her best friend, her guide, and also whoever she wanted him to be. To Nishant, Shradha was like a breath of fresh air. She always pushed him beyond his comfort level and helped him rediscover himself. She was his strength and also his weakness. 

Shradha was the girl who was considered as ‘bad influence’, while Nishant was the ‘good guy’, who was role model to many students and even parents. They had nothing in common except for the fact that both of them were lonely and maybe a little broken. 

Nishant and Shradha came together by coincidence. Their relationship started with simple friendship, which slowly grew into strong bond. He could show his silliness only in front of her while she could afford to show her real self only to him. Despite constant opposition from their family, Shradha and Nishant had continued to be ‘best friends’ and nothing else. 
They were each others ‘first’ in many things and even when the whole world could see how they were already in relationship, Nishant and Shradha could not see the obvious.
When they finally realized they have been in love the whole time, all it took was changing the status on social media.

****

"Congratulations, Ivy."
A group of boisterous cheer sang to the appeared guest for tonight's party.
"Congrats, Ivy!" Bethany roared like the thunder.
"Great work, Ivy," Parker, who stood next to Bethany, clapped.
"Very proud of you, Ivy," David praised in his mellowed temper.
Hearing to the rounds of flattery is none other than Ivy.
Her natural auburn hair dyed all black, and she appeared as charismatic and as cool to her character. Now matured to her age, her face no longer retained her foxy attitude.  There lingered no foolish plays in her demeanor but only an experienced, hardworking, actively running candidate to make her dream come true.
Ivy is no longer the girl who once belonged to the gossip girls group. After graduating high school, as planned, she went out to the world, chasing after her passion, learning the craft, encountering success as well as failures, kept going on and on until she could no longer have fear for trying.
The journey to embark a name for herself as a film director took her to several places, and gave her diverse knowledge. With several years spent learning the different roles behind the camera, she kept producing short films with her close friends from the industry with whom she shares this eternal passion for the cinema.
These handfuls of people stuck together to work on scripts. One such creation that they recently released received a lot of attention and bought forth commendations from various film festivals and special screenings.
Having traveled places where their new short film got countless praises and award buzzes, finally, they returned home to celebrate their recent accomplishment. They all gathered at their studio office, turned a portion of it into a party set-up, decorated with drinks, snacks, and a basket of movie collections for binge-watching all night. The play is to start early, where everyone gathered sharp at two in the afternoon, proposing to have lunch together before following with their plan.
Ivy was running late from having a meeting outside and thus allowing the group to plan for a surprise attack. When arrived, at last, Ivy opened the door to find her friends clamoring aloud until all of their ears went temporarily deaf.
The surprise came with a price, yet they could catch Ivy's face panicked in awe and exhilaration. A horrifying smile was the feat these people aimed to accomplish.
David instantly followed the act by opening an expensive bottle of champagne that they received as the gift in appreciation for their short film. Parker followed by passing over the glass, lastly handing it to the frozen figure as David started filling the glass till the fizzy bubbles overflowed the rims. The cold liquid when touched Ivy's skin, she felt the sharp twinge and melted to its liveliness. They all raised at once to make a toast.
"To Ivy!" they cheered again, and the glasses clinked against each other, taking turns before making to their first sip.
...
"Wow! It feels like we can finally tell the world that we've arrived!" Bethany spoke in relief.
Bethany holds a mysterious background to her personality. The young and lively woman carries a lot of secrets of her past, which she refuses to share with her creative family. Ivy and Parker saw her earlier works and invited her to join their team. Bethany being younger than the both, enthusiastically accepted their offer and became their editor. Her constant raise of questions showed her interest in the projects, and her ability to take risks without getting swayed from any negative comments is an added trait that impressed Ivy and Parker in the first place. They were looking for someone who was similarly crazy like them, and Bethany filled their interest. At the age of 25, Bethany had a degree from arts, and she joined a team that let her go wild.
"I guess so! My parents always kept suggesting to find a regular job and settle down. I had to keep running away, but now, I feel like I could proudly tell her, 'Mom, I was part of this project!' and that I've made it," Parker, the cameraman as well as the music composer of the film, joined to comment.
Ivy first met Parker in her diploma program, where she studied Film Direction. They bonded over their love for movies and quickly became close friends. Parker's sharpness and noticing fine details in anything made him a natural perfectionist. His genius-like skills let him even read people's minds at times. His friendship with Ivy deserves applauding as Parker changed Ivy's fascist nature and brought her down to earth. Ivy thinks of him the closes she is with, following Bridgette.
Parker's skills also include music, which he learned at a young age. Since they couldn't find anyone to do the background score, Parker stepped up the game to volunteer for both jobs and nailed it to his supremacy. Nonetheless, his ambition is to master the art of cinematography. Until they find an individual music composer, he would hold the torch in both departments.
Meeting Parker and being able to work with him is a choice that Ivy could never regret. She smiled at his comment to join for another sip.
"I can finally find a girlfriend now," David lastly sang to others laughing, and it enraged him because of their teasing.
David is an unusual discovery for the rest three. Ivy met Parker first, and they both joined hands, meeting Bethany a few years later. However, David got added to this team only a year ago.
David's role is the writer of the team, and his approach when it comes to words is remarkable and distinct. Aged 43 and still single to himself, David quit his longtime day job to follow his passion. He discovered his love to write at an early age, but a field of work that lacks consistency feared him. Along with his family's worrisome comments on pursuing his passion ended up convincing David to drop his dream. Nevertheless, living his life without a desire made him dull. He kept going till he crashed himself with depression and sadness. No longer could he stay happy, thus driving him to quit his work and follow his long lost purpose.
David started by writing short scripts for contests. Within a year, he met Parker on a project for a television pilot season where his story won the competition, and Parker assisted with the cameraman to direct the first episode. However, as the newbie and jobless man in his forties, David got ripped off for his story when the production company took the rights by settling with a shoddy cheque. Parker saw the unfair deal and invited David to join his team with Ivy and Bethany, interesting him with their goals.
Thus, the four met to form their dream team.
**
Ivy and Parker, having experienced enough of the film industry, started making short films while collectively working on individual projects side by side to earn money for their living. Instead of residing alone in this hard-times, they looked for an apartment together and shared rent from the earnings they made.
Looking at each other now to find themselves earning a bit of recognition for their film, and feeling blessed to have all those tough times paid lastly, everyone had nothing but a proud smile for themselves.
David's stomach made a loud growl, and everyone laughed.
"Let's eat lunch first!" Parker announced to bring out the takeout bags.
"So, what are we doing?" Ivy asks without a clue while digging into her chow mein.
Bethany glanced at Parker and David haughtily to announce their plan of getting drunk and binge-watching movies for the rest of the day, eventually hoping to crash altogether on the couch.
They anticipated for Ivy to jump out in joy, knowing that she enjoys watching good movies, but Parker found Ivy's face turn to an endless maze. He wondered why, but he still heard her dubiously agree to their program.
Finishing their lunch paired with smooth champagne, the gang dived straight to watching films- a basket full of exotic choices: both old favorites and new likely ones.
As time passes by enjoying films and discussing their favorite scenes, one of them displayed tautness. 
Ivy's often departure to the bathroom appeared weird when she got caught red-hand by Bethany, who left her seat to grab more beers. Bethany asked Ivy of what happened in the movie. However, seeing Ivy struggle to answer, Parker stepped in to fill Bethany with the details.
Soon, Parker's eyes kept catching Ivy display restlessness with her presence. She appears not to be sick but reluctant as time passed. And her frequent visits to the bathroom spurred his suspicions. Other than him, none others doubted her strangeness since they matched her need to go with the number of beers she consumed.
When you got to go, you got to go! - They believed in the saying.
The next time when Ivy left her place, Parker noticed and sparring a few seconds, he went to follow her as well.
"I hope you two aren't making out!" Bethany exclaimed when she saw Parker leave his seat. Meanwhile, David couldn't care less of what went around him as his eyes fixated on the screen, and he enjoyed an old classic movie.

IMPORTANT NOTE: You are about to read an LGBT Novel. It is a beautiful love story of two women. 
Lillian Grey and Giselle.
**************************************************
"Here's my message for you in case if you even care about, don't ever show yourself in front of me, ever again. 
Why?
Because I can't stop myself from loving you if I ever see you again. What you gave me is irreplaceable, I still have it in my heart. It didn't let me live my life in peace."
***
Lillian Grey and Giselle are two souls bonded by love yet, pulled apart by the external entities.
The two women meet years later, the subtle fire still tingling inside, allows them to reconcile but, the question to be asked is:
Will they accept it or not?
***
Author's Note:
Greetings to all, welcome to the world of 'Get Back to You.'
Thank you for choosing my novel to read. 
A little bit about myself before I take you on this journey:
I'm a 25-year-old female who believes in her fiction world.
There are two things I love the most in this world:
Music and Stories.
Both are my best buddies, and without them, I won't be able to define myself.
So, I request you to listen to the stories I create and have fun reading them. 
Once again, thank you very much for choosing this novel. I hope you have a great time reading it. 
Lots of Love and Gratitudes.

'Get Back to You' is my first child. She came out of nowhere but made a strong impression on my life.
I have had story plots of various genres, but this one became the starting point for me.
'Get Back to You' is my First Novel as a writer. 
I strive to give you good content through my writing, and so, I will avoid mistakes at all costs. If, and only if you were to find any blunders, feel free to give me your views. 
Tell me your opinions and thoughts. Share your favorite moments through comments after reading each chapter.
Support me by voting, liking, and adding my novel to your library.
What else?
Just have fun reading the story. 
Why?
Because I want you to, that's why I created them in the first place.
My stories are not my fantasies but, something that I want people to listen, read, and feel. 
If I can move your emotions through my stories, then that's a victory to me. 'Get Back to You' is a project of mine where I want people to think 'Love is Love.'
I will work hard to achieve it.

Want to reach me, kindly use the discord link:
https://discord.gg/Jdvpn3a

**************************************************
ANNOUNCEMENT: If you like/love my novel and want to show your support, kindly visit my patreon page.
As of now, I have a single-tier with one dollar per month for you guys to support my novel. All of the money goes into 'me existing as a writer.'
New tiers will appear in the future.
Supporting me on Patreon is solely your wish, and this is just a formal request to place, NO pressure! 
Thank you for listening to my shameless self-promotion. You have my gratitude for that.
Here's the link to my Patreon page:
https://www.patreon.com/ljack_ace 

FINAL WORDS: I love comments, so feel free to voice out your opinions, and you could see me responding to it. My innermost wish is for people to read my novel and have a good time with it.
So, stay awesome and rock it.

It all began the day before my father's death. I remember our last conversation as clear as day. I admitted to him my lack of confidence in my desired profession. I told him I want to become a writer but that I lack the ability to be truly creative. I lack the ability to see it in my mind. I just want to be an author and create something new and admirable. When I spoke of my worries to him, of my faltering conscience, he only laughed. It made me angry, but before I could speak on it, he spoke to me. 
"I know you, Gracie, and I believe you can do whatever you put your mind to." He held my hand and squeezed gently. As much as I knew he was trying to comfort me, it didn't help as much as I wanted it too. He's been telling me this my whole life. 
"I don't know, dad. I think I'm in over my head.  I want to live many different lives. I only get one chance at the one I have now and the only time I can really get out to the world and make friends and create things that others could never do is through words." Feeling tears come at this admission, I let go of his hand. He didn't look hurt and my irritation flared some. I have a slight temper problem sometimes. It can be an upsetting development in certain situations because nobody knows quite what to do with me. It's one of the other reasons I want to escape this world. I'm not sure I could really live with how people look at me. Disgust. Fear. Upset. The only people who ever understand me is dad, Timmy, and my mom. My dad is an old soul and very clumsy. He's always breaking stuff. Timmy is only a small child. Well, he was a small child. My mom is a very quiet person. Though when she does talk, she's a very chipper woman. I think I got my temper from my grandpa. He died about two years back, but I knew him well enough to keep my distance. 
"It'll all work out. I just know it will." Dad said to me. It was a small comfort, knowing I had his support. 
The next day, we ate dinner at the table together. Timmy was eating his Macaroni and cheese with his hands and sitting in his high chair. Mom hadn't realized what had happened until much later and I was locked inside my own mind, traveling around the depths and corners, still trying to distinguish and organize everything in there.
At first I thought the clump sound I heard was Timmy throwing his bowl again, so I paid no mind. I wish I could go back to my 13 year old self and tell myself to pay attention. Maybe it wouldn't have ended that way.
It's been fifteen years since that moment. I remember that distinct sound, that CLUMP! that ended all the normalcy of my life. It was a heart attack, we were told. I don't ever remember heart attacks ever causing someone to be in a coma for six years. Mom eventually gave up and signed the paperwork to pull the plug. He's gone now. They told us after his first examination that if we had gotten him to the hospital even a few moments before, he would have had a better chance at survival. It was all my fault then. Mom was hysterical and her first instinct was to run to him and hold his spasming body. How I couldn't even notice him right in front of me, having a seizure of some sort, I have no idea. I guess I was just too absorbed and too busy being selfish. 
I'm twenty eight now. I finished a four year college on literature, journalism, and the fine arts. I figured learning about creative things would give me some real creative ideas. After graduating, it was difficult to find a decent working job. I found a company called "If Life Was a Book" and applied there. The company was created specifically for aspiring authors. They allow me to write my stories there and have them edited and published. The more popularity, the more money goes into the company. It's only a new place, but I'm sure it will be prosperous. It's almost always half full in the main writing room. I find the typing on the keyboards to be pleasing.
I remember Timothy's reaction when I told him I finally found the perfect place to live out my dream profession. He was playing video games in his room and there was a girl in there. I honestly think he could do much better than that. The girl looked like a slutty hippie, with those really high Mexican style heels, the short, tight, shiny shirt and the lumpy skirt with soft looking fabric. She had her hair up messily and I realized what had occurred after a moment of thinking. There was even a used condom on the floor. 
When I told Timmy of my accomplishment, he barely said anything to me. I'm sure he heard me because he nodded in my direction. I learned later that the girl's name is Lizabeth, but most people just call her Beth. 
Mom's reaction was none too similar. Ever since dad was first induced into his coma, mom killed off her twenty two years of sobriety. She was always drunk. This time, when I came to her with the news, she just laughed at me. 
"Oh Grrracie, Gracc—," She laughed an amused laugh and stumbled forward a bit. "Do you really think he's cheering you on right now? No, he's not. He's wondering right this second as he watches his daughter just why he helped birth you. He wonders why you try SO hard to accomplish something you'll never be able to have. He would be ashamed to find you still groveling to everyone around you. He would be ashamed to know that you aren't even doing this for his family. Wouldn't it be sad if he knew why you're really doing this? How do you think he would feel if he knew you only work at that dumb company because you're still in denial that he's gone." She let out a snarky laugh. I've gotten used to this type of behavior from her. It's become almost normal. 
Before I know what's happening, I'm in her face, blood boiling and face scrunched up in anger. I huffed into her face.
"And I bet he's turning over in his grave watching you be such a wonderful mother." Sarcasm so strong it could break through titanium leaks out dreadfully. The words are cruel, I know, but I couldn't keep them in. Her eyes fill up to the brim with salt water. She slaps me, something I didn't see coming until I felt the burn on my face. She's seething. She's said all these things to me and when I get mad, she rages. I'm not even sure what she was expecting. I let out a dark, humorless laugh and walk out the room. 
I don't allow myself to cry as I leave that house. I needed to go back to my book. 
I've been working at the company for three years now. I've written a few books since then. Only two, but I never thought writing would be so time consuming. I wrote a book about a girl gaining special powers from her father who happened to be the King. She didn't know that until the end though. The other book was about a girl who is constantly being chased by her own nightmares and one day the Nightbringer welcomes himself into the dreams and turns them into reality. It was almost a reflection of my life. That was probably why it was such a successful book. "The Nightbringer," I called it. It was only so successful because it was very detailed and reflected my emotions. I had to add the story of my life in the acknowledgements if only to help people understand me better.
That moment three years ago was the moment I realized I couldn't stay in that house anymore, so I left without saying a word. It wasn't worth staying anyway. I got an apartment on one of the quieter parts of town. The city shuffled everywhere all the time, always moving. Maybe that's what kept the city alive. It doesn't matter though because I'm used to it by now.
I walk through the door of my home after a long day of tapping keys. I made it to about two hundred thousand letters today and my fingers ached. It was definitely more than I usually write. Even sticking the keys through the doorknob was difficult. My hands shook and it took a whole six and a half minutes to finally get the door open. My neighbor lended a hand after hearing me struggling with it and then walked back inside his apartment. Inside was cold. The cold air had been turned on this morning. I woke up sweating because of the heat and turned it on this morning. If seems as though I forgot to turn it back off again. It feels like a blizzard rolled in unannounced. 
I'm so stupid, I think to myself. Why am I such an idiot? And so forgetful? You'd think I'd have learned by now. Mistakes being made seems to be a habit I've had recently. I just can't help it. I've been trying to quit, but nothing seems to work. I sigh as I set down the keys. I'm so tired I could sleep for ages. It's a Thursday though, so I can't expect anything nice tomorrow except more writing early in the morning. I get paid tomorrow. I'm ready to hurry up and get these damn bills paid for and done with. Great. Just great. I've begun cursing in my own head. A humorless laugh escapes me. I seem to be having a good bit of those recently. What the hell am I supposed to do. 
I jump as I stand there. I hear a vibrating sound along with some sort of alarm and my heart skitters and jumps. Then I realize the buzzing and alarm sounds are coming from my phone. 
Once again, I feel a wave of self-totally-not-appreciation. "Yunoka" the ringer said. Yuno is my best friend if not my only friend. She's Japanese but definitely knows her English. She's taught me the basic of Japanese and I tend to educate her on Spanish sometimes which I took in high school. 
I press the green call button and bring the phone to my ear. As I do that, I begin removing my shoes. "Hello?" My voice is tired and I hope she doesn't notice. 
No such luck.
"Oh my goodnessers, Gracie, are you alright? You sound like someone just karate chopped you in the throat and then stole your voice, chopped that, too and gave it back in an unsuccessful surgery." I let out a rough laugh, and my throat was sore. Yuno can always make me laugh.
"Oddly specific." I mutter after my laugh.
"For good reason, girl, trust me. Anyway, I was calling to see if you could edit my article for the newspaper."
"You're still working on that thing? Don't you know that nobody reads those except old people?"
"Hey, one day we will be those old people reading these papers. Be respectful to your elders, Gracie because one day those elders could be you." I laugh again.
"Yes, ma'am." I joke. All of a sudden Yuno's voice is serious. 
"Gracie, on a more serious note, how have you been feeling? I know your mother isn't doing too well and Timmy is still being a man hoe and failing at life, so I want to know if you've been alright. You haven't been pushing yourself too hard, have you?" I don't have to think of my answer too long. 
"Have no fear, Yuno, everything is fine. As for my mom and Timmy, they've made their choices. I'm just caught up in work and deadlines right now although I definitely passed it today."
Yuno's voice is sincere: "I know, honey. Maybe you should take a leave of absence for a little while. You know, kind of relax. Take a deep breath and think about things. I know how you can be sometimes. It can't possibly be healthy." Now I just really want to end the call. I hate talking about serious stuff. It bothers me on a very severe emotional level. 
I have always told Yuno that my home life isn't something I like to talk about so hearing her talking about it to me like it's some normal thing we do all the time is annoying. 
"Yuno." I reply sternly. "Good night. I need sleep. It's the only relaxing I'm going to get anytime soon." 
I swiftly end the call and take a shower. The water on my back is more relaxing than any lousy breaks. My work is what keeps me sane and alive. Yuno doesn't understand me at all. I'm still going to try to fit in editing her article into my schedule, but I'm still not happy about her intrusion on my personal life. 
I hurry out of the shower and into my bed. It's definitely not the most comfortable thing in the world, but's it's better than home. No, I tell myself. This is my home. 
But in my mind, a distant saying circles my brain and hounds my thoughts.
"Home is where the heart is." 
I wish that were true.

Twenty-eight year old Gracie Pierce wants to be a writer. With her father dead, her mother as a drunk, and her little brother addicted to video games and girls, she has persistent urges to write if only to escape her home life. One day, Gracie is so captivated by her own story that she gets entranced and trapped by it and becomes a literal character inside her book. In order to return home to her family back in the real world, Gracie must become the hero of her own creativity. However, Gracie begins to wonder if she truly wants to leave the fantasy world at all; especially considering all that she has to go through in the real world. Warning: Not much romance here. Told from Gracie’s point of view. Support for this book is greatly appreciated. The more support is equal to the amount of motivation I have to continue writing! Thanks! :) (Light Fantasy)

Hi, this is the Author, as of now, I am going to take a break from writing until things settle down. yes, the Covid-19 is cutting work right now but, my family and I are going to do things around our home for a while. So, for now I will be helping them as they are taking priority over my creative outlet. When I have time once again I will work on the next chapters leading up to the end of book two before getting ready for the next segments of my series. 


I wish all who do read my series are staying safe and doing everything they can to keep happy and healthy through these trying times. In my opinion, it is like the black plague allover again but worldwide. who knows I might, or someone else will write a story based around this who ordeal.

Book 1

From the death of his mother and his village. To the path of friendship. Travel with Lovell as he journey's across the world of Altora, as he searches for what is his place within Altora's conflicted world. Join Lovell with others as they try to save their world from the Faremin forces, that are led by Lord Damora himself. Find a story of forbidden love, ancient conflict and a world fill with the wounds of time.


Book 2

As time moves, so shall the world. Follow Hunter as he finds his path to who he truly is and where he fits within the war-torn planet of Altora.

Book 3
After the devastating fall of their comrade, Lance, Scarlet, Hunter and Luna take their own paths as they do what they can to as the world seems to crash over them. 

And with a new looming shadow rising, will this be the end or a new beginning as a cloaked man, dubbed Black Wolf. Who is this mysterious man, and what are his goals?

So this is the first time I've written something so please mind the mistakes in my writing please and thank you

 Hi my name is Lizzie and I've just started                going to college and I'm moving in my dorm and I will be going to get my stuff from home and go back to my dorm and see who my roommate is.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER...

So I'm back at the dorm and I've just found out that I have to share a room with a BBBBBOYYYY!!!!!!!!

Um hi what's ur name my name is Lizzie what's ur name?
  
Um hi my name is carter and I've just loved here and I've just found out that I will be sharing a room with a giiirl and it's uncomfortable to ask but do u want to be my friend.?

Sure?!!. But we don't even know anything about each other though.

Yeah that's what I've been asking about we don't know each-other so can u tell me a little about yourself and I can tell u a little about myself?.

Well ok? My name is Lizzie and I've just moved here from California and My parents work as doctors and I work a part-time at target or something It's not as good as my parents jobs but it's a steady job.

Ok now my turn I'm carter and I'm 17 years old and I moved here from Kansas and my parents work as chefs and I work at JC Penny  
my jobs not good either but it's steady and I have friends there.

Oh yeah I forgot I'm 17years old to lol well it's about time to get to our classes so... see u when I come back to the dorm. See ya carter replied.



I WILL POST ANOTHER PAGE OF THIS ON .... THURSDAYS 
                    Bye!!

A young man lands the job of his dreams.
An orphan inherits a million dollars.
A corporate executive that specializes in firing people loses his job.
A wedding ceremony goes awry.
Four stories, each unique, but with a common theme: the magic unpredictability of life.

NOTE: I wrote these stories a while ago, when I was experimenting with various styles. They are somewhat literary in character, and thus recommended for readers with a good command of English.
I shall be publishing the stories one by one, after some light editing.
I will be also adding new short stories if I happen to write any.

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