tragic short

I pleaded with my husband Cedric Fleetham over and over, and finally, he agreed to take our daughter camping in the mountains for her birthday. When I found her late the next night, she was already gone. She lay at the foot of the mountain, her tiny hand still clutching a drawing of our family. As I knelt beside her, my heart shattered. Meanwhile, Cedric was busy updating his social media. His post read, [You and our daughter are my treasures,] and it was accompanied by a photo, where he stood beside his childhood sweetheart and held hands with another little girl, watching the sunset. And there, in the corner of the picture, was a tiny hand—my daughter’s hand. The cruelest truth of all was that my daughter took that photo.

Moth and Flames is an unusual love story between Alex, an orphan and Eva, a 500-year-old vampire. When Alex is accepted into St. Normans' he sets off on his journey to fulfill his dream of becoming a scientist, full of hope and aspiration.He finds love and acceptance that he had craved all his life in his friend Aaron and his family who welcome him with open arms.He is very hopeful UNTILL Eva turns his world upside down. She drives him to the edge insulting him one moment and helping him in the next.Alex plunges himself into investigating Eva's background but nothing can prepare him for the discoveries he is about to make.Fiery Flames destined to burn,Burnt itself too in return,Hypnotized by the lure,Of selfless love, unconditional pure.Toiling and fighting for each other,Standing tall in frosty weather.They tread through the bloody seas,But destiny is hard to appease.Will one day by creator's magic?Bring a change in this destiny tragic!Love of Moth and Flames; ideologic,Is fulfilled defying all logic...

They shared a pack, a womb born of the same parents. Their bond was so strong they even shared a bed. They were totally inseparable. They kept this bond as they grew up. Even when their parents tried, they could not agree on the use separate beds they were in love with the routine and system of being together all the time. Parents eventually succeeded on separate beds but not the bedroom.Collen and Carla were identical twins and were into similar things. The situation drastically changed when a tragic accident occurred and took Carla’s life, there after Collen was never the same. He was lost and the pain he felt consumed him. He was drenched in pain and sorrow. Months passed and Collen still could not get over his sisters’ death. In his mind he had long concluded he could not live without his sister and the only way for the pain to end was to join Carla in the after-life.Collen decided to take his own life by jumping over a cliff and while he was busy executing his plan a witch suddenly appeared from nowhere and offered to help him take away his pain and sorrow. On agreement with the witch she took away his ability to feel. This became the dawn of Lucifer the heartless, painless and stress free.

“This fire could consume us both, ‘querida’.” Slowly, he kissed each knuckle of her hand, causing zings of pleasure to curl up and down her body. “Once I start kissing you, I might never stop. Ever!” A shudder of pleasure went through her at those words. Pleasure… Desire… Fear. “Come,” he said, “it’s late. It’s time for bed.” Have you ever wished you could start your life all over again? Spain… Marbella… a tall, dark, handsome man. This seemed the perfect start to a unique love story. And it was... for a while. The gorgeous heiress Calleigh decides to go to Spain for a short vacation. Once she arrived here, she fell under the spell of the powerful and breathtaking Spanish tycoon Gabriel De León in a hot-blooded encounter that took away her soul, heart, innocence… and memory. Gabriel looked everywhere for Calleigh Swanson and found her in a hospital, lost and lonely. Her betrayal left him angry and disappointed. So, what better way to punish the woman who nearly ruined him than to marry and destroy her body and soul? Only she's now carrying… his child.

After a wild, drunken class reunion, I woke up next to a male model. I had no clue what I was doing since it was my first time in this kind of situation. I called my best friend for help on what to do, and while the male model was still out cold, I left my wallet and bolted. When I got home, my best friend dragged me over to show me a picture of her new boyfriend. My jaw dropped. The guy in the photo was the spitting image of the man I had just left.

For three agonizing years, my mother struggled with kidney failure. Finally, after all the waiting and the constant dialysis, she was next in line for a transplant. Hope seemed so close. But then, my husband, Zachary Levi, an esteemed nephrology professor, did the unforgivable. He surreptitiously gave his lover's mother the kidney that was intended for my mother. He said almost dismissively, "Ella's mother couldn't wait any longer. Your mother's been on dialysis for so long, she's not going to die anytime soon." Later, my mother passed away. I called Zachary one final time. Yet, it was a woman who answered. "Margaret, right? Zachary's in the shower. Is there something you need?" I stared at my mother's smile on the gravestone, and an overwhelming emptiness spread through me. "It's nothing. Just wanted to talk about the divorce."

When I saw Vincent Carson again, he was now the formidable head of the Carson Corporation with a net worth of tens of millions. By his side was a young, promising screenwriter. Meanwhile, I dragged myself out of the basement, crippled and in a pitiful state. With a condescending tone, Vincent asked, "Three years ago, you sabotaged Irene's chance to win that award. Do you regret it now? If you wish to remain my wife, you must apologize to Irene first." At the same time, the system's voice sounded in my mind, 'Host, are you ready to go home?' I nodded silently. A look of satisfaction washed over Vincent's face as he stepped forward to embrace me. However, in the blink of an eye, I began to vanish right before his eyes. Subsequently, I heard he lost his sanity.

I receive a message one day. "Your condoms have been delivered. Total to be paid: XX dollars." I distinctly remember that I've never made such an order, but the address and phone number are mine. I call my husband, but he only says differently, "My godsister ordered them. She's too shy to use her details, so she used yours. It's not like it'll affect you." I nod silently. She might as well not have them if she can't afford to pay for them.

Everyone knew I was hopelessly in love with Hendrick Sam, willing to sacrifice my dignity for him. In the two years we were together, he would drop everything and leave me in the hospital whenever his “one true love” called. People mocked me, saying, “Chloe, you must really enjoy being a doormat.” I just smiled and stayed silent. Later, when he was on his deathbed, he asked, “Chloe, did you ever really love me?” I turned my back on him. Because it was never him I loved, it was his heart.

Jasper Cole’s first love accused me of kidnapping her on my anniversary with him. I was mute—I couldn’t even defend myself. He held his "damsel in distress" and demanded I donate my blood to her. "If you still want next month’s tuition and living expenses, you’d better cooperate," he threatened. I obeyed in silence. Later, I met a police officer and ran away with him. Jasper lost his mind.