Who Was Mister Rogers And Why Is He Important?

‘State you name.’ Luke said. His voice of authority. ‘Vera Rayne.’ He seemed to look like he was in thought. The interview went on. Vera feeling on edge and uncomfortable. Luke, he was just sexually frustrated. ‘Are you married.’ He suddenly demanded. Luke couldn’t help it. Vera was confused as to why he would ask. ‘No,’ she answered, frowning. ‘Boyfriend then.’ Vera frowned deeper. Luke thought it made her look just as beautiful. Vera didn’t know why he would want to know. What it had to do with him. Luke grew irritated by Vera’s silence. His mind going insane thinking that silence meant that she did indeed have a boyfriend. Then he began to imagine, if she did have a boyfriend, what would he look like. What was her type. And so on. ‘No.’ She had finally answered. Luke thought she wasn’t going to. ‘OK,’ he said feeling relieved. Though he would never show it.

Lily Christian’s former lover had cheated on her, resulting in five wasted years of their relationship going down the drain. Her former lover and his new b*tch even conspired to take advantage of Lily Christian, so what else could she do besides make them pay for what they did and reclaim everything that belonged to her? It was time for payback!A man wrapped his arms around Lily Christian’s waist as he instigated, “Honey, you’re being too soft on them. Why don’t I buy you a bulldozer so you can run them over with it?”Lily Christian was shocked, yet from that moment on, with the man’s help, she began to plan her revenge.

"Just imagine all the things I can do to you now Anne. With you vulnerable, submissive, worthless, and at my every comand." He says then grabs my shoulder and whips me around. I try to keep my gaze down but his hand is on my face and he grips it hard, making me cry out in pain. Then he forces my jaw up to look at him. His cold eyes express power. Cold, heartless power. "But I won't touch you, ever. You're still a stripper, insignificant and meaningless and dirty." Marcella should have known it was a bad idea, that this was a bad idea. How did she end up working as a maid for Mr. Robinson? Why did she choose to be stuck suffering under his power? It was bad enough that she worked as a stripper for him, disguising her identity for as long as she could. But the minute she chose to leave and find something better, she ended up as his maid. And the answer remains the same… she’s doing this for her brother, and the one promise she made. Now she’s stuck working as a maid for the ruthless Mr. Robinson and as much as he takes advantage of her position, Marcella is not ready to give up. No. She will stay and remain strong with all that she has. And who knows? She might end up taming Mr Robinson.

What happens when your life is just a lie? What happens when you finally find out that none of what you believe to be real is real? What if you met someone who made you question everything? And what happens when your life is nothing but a fiction carved by Mr. Fiction himself? "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." — Oscar Wilde. Disclaimer: this story touches on depression, losing someone, and facing reality instead of taking the easy way out. ( ( ( part of TBNB Series, this is the story of Clarabelle Summers's writers ))

During summer break, I took my son, Luke Thorne, diving at our private beach. Ralph Foster, a hotshot TV actor, suddenly showed up with a whole entourage and barged in. "This is a private beach that Gloria personally secured for me to entertain VIPs. You two nobodies had better get lost right now!" He threw his weight around and even dragged my wife, Gloria Stokes, out as a threat. When he learned who I was, he went a step further and mocked me as a kept man living off my wife. I actually laughed. I was the head of the Thornes, the most powerful family in Frenkinston. Since when did I become some freeloading, useless husband? On top of that, Gloria's film studio and every bit of her backing came from me. But when Gloria arrived, she sided with Ralph and actually tried to force Luke to put on a show for some sleazy investors. Sneering, I made a call that only the head of the Thornes had the authority to make. "Shark Vanguard, clear Crescent Bay. Now."

On the evening of May 17, 20XX, I died. I decided to tell you this story because I thought it was a thing of beauty, albeit filled with agony and grief. No, this is not my story. This is the story of the husband of my best friend, Mary, and how he tried to play God by inventing a time machine to try and save her from death. Listen carefully for this will be the last one I will tell.