Jarrod: A Short Story

I met Claverle Joseph, otherwise known as CJ, back in 2013 when I was trying out for a travel basketball team called Palm Beach Flight. Our body types were about the same, lanky, about 6ft tall, and size 12 shoes. However, that was the only similarity we shared. My upbringing came from attending a private catholic school for twelve years before I moved to Florida. His was a more difficult path where he faced problems within his own family and in his neighborhood. I got to know CJ over the next three years as we played on the basketball team together side by side and sharing countless experiences in hotel rooms when we would travel to different parts of the state to play. Although our differences were stark, we bonded over basketball and we

And how twisted was the world, that his victim would forgive him before he forgave himself? That after he’d raped her, he was the one crying, it was him needing her comfort? She was always like this… this frightening mix of strength and vulnerability, both built upon suffering he, back then, could never even fathom. Now though… now he was beginning to understand what made her like

He stood, breathless, with the love of his life held between his arms, and his gaze alighted on hers, the lingering taste of her lips from the kiss upon his, and his mouth curled up into a smile. A grown man, who'd been through the hell of Afghanistan, and survived it, a man who'd also survived the destruction of his marriage, a man who could kill without compunction or remorse, nor a seconds hesitation, yet here he was, as nervous as a schoolboy on his first date. And, it wasn't because of a lack of confidence in himself, or in Azairah, or that, even though he'd not made love in so long, but that he didn't want to bring back any bad memories, for her, or that he considered sex like Cole Douglas and his ilk, an act purely for the man's pleasure,

“Fine,” she looked up as a man with a scar running down his cheek smiled sinisterly. She didn’t trust him, she moved to try to get out of his reach but he pulled his arm out. Her eyes widened in horror as his fist came forward, she had stopped crying, watching the fist as if it was coming at her slowly. When it hit her face she barely registered it, it didn’t hurt, only stung and sent a shock through her body. Another fist came, then another. Her vision was going blurry, she heard them say something but she couldn’t make out what it was as her body fell limp against the seat and her eyes shut, unable to handle the pain in her

Stepping off the gangplank of his beloved Apache Arrow onto the dew soaked grass, Wyatt paused as he extended his arms over his head and clasped his hands together. Groaning loudly, he proceeded to stretch his sore, tight muscles in a ballet like pose, that surely would have inspired a wise-ass remark from Jolker, had he been witness to it. Kneeling for hours, in that cramped mechanical space had taken its toll on his big, athletic frame. Now he realized why most mechanics he had met, were men of a smaller stature, then his. Jolker couldn't fit in that small space, until Wyatt had removed many of the smaller parts and components.

She'd reacted as hoped, and when her second hand lay over his, he felt the compassion and sympathy in that touch. "Thank you, Mirella." He'd whispered, with lips trembling, before he managed to shake off the memories of his lost beloved, and continued. Pickett's gaze didn't leave the young woman's for a second, and neither did his brain stop ticking. The man was curious to see her reaction to his revelation, expecting it to be dramatic, and he wasn't in the least

Her eyes glanced away from his for a brief moment, the air leaving her lips in a rather resigned manner. Drunk or not, he wasn’t going to let her be until he had tugged the truth out of her. But when it finally came out, would he see it for the sordid, rotten thing that it was? Would he see her that way? The only one she knew of that could relate to this was Vivianne. Her intellectual counterpart, the Devil’s Advocate in her everyday matters. Only she could see the scarlet that stained her hands and not pass judgement. But Priam? She thought the world of him -- to see disgust etched upon her features could bring her to ruins. All it took was one simple confession.

There once was a 13 year old boy named Jonathan who dreamed of becoming a soldier just like his father, cousin, and brother. His father would not let him because he did not want anything bad to happen to him. One day, the tavern bell rang to call all soldiers to come fight in a war. This made Jonathan think that this could be his opportunity to finally become a soldier. When he returned home he told his mother that he was going out to see what the ringing of the tavern bell was for, but he was really going there so he could join the troops. When he arrived, he was recruited by the Corporal to join them in a war against enemy soldiers.

A bust of cold wind pounded Jack’s face as he stands proudly over the criminal scum known as Jeffery Mory. He laughed maniacally as he leaned over and put his handgun in Jeffrey’s mouth. Jeffery, shivering, and literally pissing in his pants exclaimed “please, please no! I’ll never touch her again please, I swear!” “Shut up, you deserve this!” Jack shouted as his spit sprinkled on Jeffery’s face.

Jeremy Johnson had always knew he didn’t belong in unkempt Agrestic with its uneducated residents and a high murder rate. Although he had to live in such awful conditions he defied the typical poor black high school stereotype and excelled in school, was caption of his school’s basketball team, and volunteered at his local youth group. All he wanted was to complete his senior year and get out of the town with his scholarship to Howard University, but he couldn’t graduate without doing one thing first. Helping Lydia. He knew his sister was heading down a life-threatening path and he’d do anything to help her.

Late one night just as the sun began to set behind the distant hills a piercing scream was made out in the distance. Could this be the reappearance of the psycho man that dematerialized ten years ago that went around and conked on children’s windows and would scream until he made them cry many years ago? The man’s name was Jeff Reddy , he was supposed to be transported off to a mental asylum. When he was a child, he was dropped on his head and his parents and siblings were mean to him. The psycho man did not graduate high school because he was always petrifying people in school until one day a girl named Mary told the principal and he was suspended and they put a 350 foot restraining order from Mary.

"I did it," she said through the hiccups of the aftermath of regaining control. "I did it. Oh God, I did it." Looking over at the form of her patient, Hannah nodded slowly. "I saved you. They didn 't get you and they 're not going to get you." Pulling herself to her feet, Hannah grabbed a hypoallergenic pillow off the shelf and put it under the man 's head, then draped a couple of sterile blue OR sheets over his body to keep him warm. As she squatted beside him, butt resting on the heels of her extremely sensible

Tom sat on the sofa, his shoulders hunched forward, his eyes staring listlessly into space. In his hands, a forgotten cup of coffee trembled violently, the lukewarm liquid spilling over his fingers. He hadn’t uttered a single word since his impassioned attempt to justify Booker’s assault, and as the minutes ticked by, his silence only added to Doug’s concerns. Although not an expert, as a cop, Penhall understood about trauma, and fearing his friend was going into shock, he made the decision to call 911. With an ambulance on its way, he dialed a second number, and after a brief conversation, he hung up. Turning his attention to Tom, he wondered how to proceed. While he wanted to offer comfort, he honestly did not know what to say. How did you console the victim of sexual assault when the perpetrator was a trusted colleague you worked side by side with day in day out? He was out of his depth and terrified of making matters worse, but he knew he needed to do something other than making a cup of coffee, and approaching Tom, he squatted down and laid a hand on his knee. “How ya doin’, buddy?”

Josh Cage was the guy you’d go to when you wanted drugs. He had many businesses but he was a hard man to be pinned to any given dirty crime. It was good how he had managed to hide all his dirty acts behind a business that was legit up front. It was nearly impossible and a newly appointed chief had finally nailed him. It was small but he did and Gregory knew that he should have been more careful. After spending wholesome amount of money, he as sentenced for only two years. The crime he had committed should have gotten him at least 10 years behind the bars.

Hello Discord's members, My name is Johnathan Kibler. I live in Phoenix, AZ. I am deaf (hard of hearing). My first language is ASL [American Sign Language] then English. I am old CJF [Telnet]. I am Telnet Clan in TF. Why I called my username is Elephants111? Because I made username from other game "Habbo". Most I play the game in Minecraft and some others too. Ryan, you may know me well cause I am old