Why Does The Protagonist In Typical American Struggle?

"Why are you sorry right now? what do you want to prove? I asked him grabbing his collar. After torturing me beyond the level you are calling those things love!! Listen Mr Raghabhan, you are a sadistic psycho who found pleasure in my agony. So, don't call those things love. I won't forgive you ever. Just get lost from here. I don't even want to see your disgusting face," I said all this looking directly into his eyes. He tried to say something but I cut his sentence in the middle and again snapped," Remember one thing, I will never forgive you. I will be a shame in the name of woman if I forgive my rapist." Hearing me he was silent for a few moments and kneeled in front of me. I can see regret in his both eyes. He said joining his hand," Just forgive me for once". Seeing him I didn't even feel pity for him. I said anger dripping from my voice," If you ever considered me as a human than leave me in my condition and never come back." . . . Arunima is a single mother who is leading her life with her twin children. The nightmares from her past always bother her making her condition worse. On the other hand, Anirudh is leading his life with guilt for committing sins that he has committed in the past. Join Arunima and Anirudh's journey of vengeance, love, regret and be a part of their journey. Warning- Trigger warning scene ahead. Kindly read at your own risk. Underage readers aren't allowed to read it. English isn't my first language so forgive me for grammatical errors.

We have a family group chat meant for the core members only. It's named "the Coppola family". The ones in the group are my father, my mother, my oldest brother, Fabio Coppola; my second brother, Luca Coppola, and my little sister, Francesca Coppola. Oh, that's not all. Fabio's bloodhound, Fido; Luca's ragdoll, Neve; and Francesca's fancy rat, Pico, are members of the group chat too. I'm the only one who's not included in that group. There's once when I ask Francesca, "Can you add me into the group?" She's in the middle of feeding Pico at that time. Without bothering to glance at me, she replies, "That group is meant for insiders only. Wouldn't you feel awkward if you were to join the group, Valentina?" I just look at Pico, who keeps screeching in Francesca's arms. It has a special nickname and the right to speak up in the family group. To think that I, the Coppolas' biological daughter, am nothing compared to a fancy rat.

Ever since I was young, I've always been the one made an example of. It's as though I exist solely to teach my older brother, Irwin Blanchard, a lesson. When Irwin spends 50 dollars in an online game, Mom makes me pay off the debt for Irwin so that she can teach him to cherish money. When Irwin gets caught for stealing, Mom forces me to kneel down in front of the store owner and slap myself repeatedly while begging for forgiveness. This is her attempt to teach Irwin to always feel shame and be humble. After Irwin starts junior high, he gets addicted to soft drinks. That's when Mom fills soda bottles with pesticide and places them in the most obvious spots in the living room. When I accidentally drink from a soda bottle, I'm in so much pain and agony that I keep rolling all over the floor. Dad quickly drives me to the hospital that night. On the way there, we are flagged down by a traffic officer, who's there to catch those who drink and drive. Even though Dad has already passed the breathalyzer test, Mom exclaims while laughing, "Your device really is useless! He already had a bottle of beer, and yet it couldn't even detect the alcohol in his breath!" Meanwhile, I feel as though my guts are on fire as I curl up in the backseat. Yet, Mom turns to stare at Irwin. "You see now? This is what you get for drinking!" Too engrossed in nagging Irwin's ear off, Mom fails to notice the fact that my breathing is growing weaker. Mom, are you happy now that your lesson has cost me my life?

I specifically accompany my wife, Sophie Caldwell, to visit her family during the holidays. My mother-in-law, Margaret Jackson, brings over a basket of apples. Then, she says in a half-teasing manner, "These apples are meant for the Jacksons. Once you've had your apple, you'll be blessed with a life as sweet as these apples. By the way, outsiders aren't allowed to take the apples." Everyone begins fighting for the apples happily. So, I grab an apple of my own too. The next thing I know, the atmosphere in the living room goes eerily quiet. Sophie drags me to a corner and starts berating me. "Are you so poor that you can't even afford to buy your own apple? Must you steal apples from my family? "Didn't you hear my mom saying that outsiders aren't allowed to take the apples? Why did you even take one from the basket? "Thanks to you, now Julius doesn't have an apple!" I look around my surroundings. It turns out that there are only eight apples in total, while we have nine people sitting in the living room. So the "outsider" she was talking about is me. I decide to hand the apple over to Sophie's godbrother, Julius Sterling. Then, I call my dad on the phone. "Dad, you don't have to bring the holiday gifts over now."

The notice of my mother's layoff sat on the kitchen table. Rent was due in three days. My younger brother's tutoring fees were already two weeks late. And my little sister, Stephanie, clutched her acceptance letter to the local public arts high school like she'd done something wrong. None of this would be happening if it weren't for me. My illness had taken everything our family had saved. I stayed in my room, leaning against the door, wanting to tell them I'd drop out of treatment—but I couldn't bring myself to open it. "Why did he have to fall sick?" My mother was crying, her voice low and tight, like the words were being forced out of her. "If it were just you both, Stephanie and Jamie, we'd be fine by now." "Mom, please don't say that." My brother and sister held her, barely holding back their own tears. "He's a burden… but he's still my son." Her voice cracked. "I just… I can't do this anymore…" I stepped back and sank into my chair. It wasn't an accusation. It was a verdict.

"What!" Ethan says in his all too familiar deep rude voice. "You hit me, which caused my coffee to spill all over me," I say, pointing out the obvious. "So, what do you want me to do about it," He speaks like he has done nothing wrong "You are supposed to say sorry," I say in a duh tone "And why should I." "Because that is what people with manners do." "I know that, but you don't deserve sorry from me." "Wow, really, and why is that." "Because black bitches like you don't deserve it." "I have told you times without number to stop calling me that," I say getting angry with his insults "Make me," Ethan says, taking a dangerous step closer to me. I don't say anything, but hiss and walk past him. I don't know why I even expected him to say anything better. It is Ethan, after all. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is a story about two people who knew how to express the word hate more than anything else to one another. Ethan hates Adina more than anything in the world and would give anything to see her perish into thin air. While on the other hand Adina could careless about Ethan other than the fact that she won't let him walk all over her with his arrogant character. What happens when a big incident changes all that. How do these two different people deal with a feeling that is supposed to be forbidden to feel for the each other. Read to find out how the person you hate the most is the one person you can love the most.