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Ara (Ib fanfic) Chapter 1 : Like a Nightmare..."I DON'T EVEN WANT TO GO TO THE ART GALLERY!" I argued with my mom who retorted "Ara you are only sixteen you don't get to make decisions for two more years!" I growled and cursed under my breath gazing out the window at the scenery. The car was silent until we got to the art gallery. I had been thinking about when dad died and then that horrible woman he married was all I had left. I had no boyfriend, aunt, uncle, grandparents, or other relatives. She didn't even call me by my real name which was Aradia (pronounced: A-RAY-D-uh) she just calls me Ara. I don't mind it but she seems to hiss it like I'm some disgusting creature. Finally we where at the art galley. Guertena's art gallery anyways but I didn't care I just wanted to go home and punch my pillow like my therapist told me to. When we got into the art gallery and signed in I walked out. "Frick off mom! I'm gonna go look around by myself!" she seemed to snarl "Fine. But when you come back I hope you know how to treat your mother!"
Ara (Ib fanfic) Chapter 3: Gamer...I jumped up and towards the door ready for whatever came threw it. Garry tried to stop me but I was already opening the door when someone fell on me! They sat up and slammed the door behind themselves. "Ha ha sorry bro." said the stranger with a thick Swedish accent. He had sandy blonde hair and ocean blue eyes and a small amount of facial hair. He wore a strange neon green headset with a shirt with a fist on it and BROFIST in all caps. When he stood up he was short which made me giggle as I got up. "What's your name?"" I asked him as his gaze met mine "Oh I'm PEEEEEEWDIEPIE! But you can call me Pewdie." I looked at him odd name I thought before looking at Garry who seemed...Jealous!? I smirked at him and he smiled at me "Well I'm Aradia but you can call me Ara." My brown hair whipped around to look at the Sweden as I shook his hand before helping Garry off the floor. "And...This is Garry." I grunted from helping him up.
I asked if he was at the gallery before but I was surprised that
Ara (Ib fanfic) Chapter 4: Heads will roll"LET US GO!" I said quite heroically I might add. Pewdie and Miranda walked ahead of us chatting and laughing. They seemed to be good friends which made me smile. Garry's fingers still laced mine and I looked up at his tall figure before blushing and looking away again. He turned my chin back towards him "Look at me...." he said softly "Notice me..." he said even softer. He was about to say something else when Miranda chirped "Hey everybody I found a key!" I gave her a questionable look "Where?" she jumped happily "Right there!" she said proudly pointing at a vase. Strange I thought... "Well Miranda unlock the door!" I said enthusiastically. She unlocked it and we all had a shocked expression.
In the room where about a million manikin heads. I hoped into Garry's arms in alarm and fear What the heck was my first thought. Garry carried me into the room following Miranda and Pewdie. Miranda seemed excited "Ooo my head should be in here!" she excitedly bashed open manikin heads. "Uhh Miran
Ara (Ib fanfic) Chapter 2: New FeelingsI smiled as we walked thinking about random things but mainly Garry. I wanted to talk to him. "Hey...uhm Garry?" He looked up sweetly "Yes Ara?" I loved the way he said my name but I had to keep my composure " How old are you? I'm sixteen going to be seventeen soon." I blushed a little. I have never felt like this before it felt odd and I wanted my therapist to help me. "Oh me I'm twenty five." I looked at him in shock as he chuckled "Ha ha I'm just kidding! I'm nineteen." I smiled "Good." The relief flooded me and it was clearly visible. Garry looked at me gently and smiling as he was about to say something on of the paintings tried to spit at him. He fell towards me and I caught him in my arms but I fell as well.
We chuckled as he leaned over top of me he had been trying to get up but he suddenly stopped and blushed "I'm sorry.." I looked at him "Don't be." I smiled at him making him feel better. He helped me up like a gentlemen. Afterwards he cursed at the painting and helped me by
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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