A Short Story : A Story?

Love and contentment filled him. He had to tell her how much he loved her, and that he’d forgiven her transgression. He only hoped she’d forgive his.

The early events of the grandfather’s life were complicated for him, and resulted in his mind being corrupt. Through the quote, “Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of

“It’s that wretched brother of yours, Larsen. You told us you had him under control. You said this was the perfect way to solve two of our problems, when—in fact—it

“You ran away from me Waverly.” Taking small, hopefully unnoticeable breaths, she tried to calm herself. “I’ve thought about you, about that night. What we did together that night was fucking amazing, and you admitted yourself that you had no experience at

He felt as if it was his duty as his ‘brother’ to protect him. He felt like he betrayed K. and his family by not being able to save him. “They are family members…. Who have been entrusted to them. To fall short of unconditional care is experienced as a kind of perfidy, a failure to be faithful.”

"Are you sure about that?" She let go of his hand and resumed wrapping his wound. "You seem to forget the circumstances of our meeting and all the…all the consequences that followed." Her vision blurred with tears as she remembered everything that occurred in Havenswood and the loss of Ealhwyn.

I looked into the dull, lifeless eyes of my brother. A tear ran down my cheek. At this moment, all background noise was muffled out by my racing mind. My heart wept. This was not my first kill, however, this body laying lifelessly in my arms was much different. How could I kill my own brother? That was the one question which would repeatedly come to my mind.

“My husband had been shot in the civil war, we had no family, I needed to take care of my son, he can no get hurt, I would never forgive myself.” The child continue to stare at his feet, as Aleena pulls him to her side.

The only visitors he had received were doctors, who kept taking his blood. At first, it wasn’t as frequent. Now, it was. They kept coming into the room constantly. They wouldn’t say anything when he asked. He felt weak, from them taking his blood daily.

Finn continued his brother’s sentence. “—isn’t like that. He was the best father in the world. He loves people. He loves walking Mrs. Willis across the street every Sunday morning for her weekly trip to the grocery store. He gives our neighbors gifts every Christmas and remembers each and every one’s birthday.” Finn wiped his pouring tears. “He invites the firefighters to our house almost every week for dinner. If you say that our dad risked those people’s lives for nothing, then you don’t know our

          "I don't know! I'm amazed that my brother is alive, but I'm scared that he's changed. I'm scared that he doesn't love me like he used to. I'm worried that he isn't the same, that there's something wrong! Mark, what should I do?" Ileana yells hysterically.

Her little brother had tugged at her sleeve, asking what was wrong. She couldn’t tell him, unable to stand the combined force of her parents’ almost violent disapproval.

She flicked her dark, glossy hair over her shoulder. He recalled the feel of those long locks wrapped around his hands when they had gone to bed together, and at the time, he had found her extremely beautiful, but now, she looked like a hag to him. Her body might have been beautiful, but her heart was not.

who found himself gazing into the boy’s dark eyes, trying to read the boys emotions though the

I couldn't say anything no matter how hard I tried. His eyes were filled with a kindness that seemed so innocent and genuine so endless: as big as the sea. It set