Post Colonial Mga Nobela at Kwento

In a post apocalyptic world, where staying alive is an impossibility, home is in the Compound, surrounded by prison cells and strangers that are family. Keeping them safe is my priority but its hard to keep my focus when she wont leave me alone. Shes too young, too innocent to be tainted by me and yet I cant keep my eyes off of her. Things get really difficult the day we return from our latest mission, and now its impossible to ignore her, but I have to keep her alive if I want any chance of corrupting her.

Jessica has just landed her dream job and sold the film rights to her novels. Then she stumbles across an online post from her closest friend, Linda, asking strangers how to ruin her life. When Linda tries to sabotage Jessica's career, expose her pen name, steal her boyfriend, and destroy her author account, Jessica quietly gathers every piece of evidence and turns Linda's own schemes against her. By the time Linda realizes she has been caught, Jessica is ready to send her former best friend to prison and take back everything she earned.

[The story about my son cutting ties with us is all an act. If I hadn’t done that, there’s no way my daughter would have willingly handed over the money!] During the long holiday weekend, I was killing time at my desk when I randomly clicked on a Reddit post. Maybe it was because I also had a younger brother who had cut ties with the family. The night he slammed the door and left, my parents seemed to age ten years overnight. From that day on, I became their only source of support. Every month, I send them five hundred dollars for living expenses. Even when I wasn’t feeling well, I forced myself to work. Meanwhile, the post kept updating. [I raised her for over ten years. What's wrong with spending some of her money? Her brother is still short of fifty thousand dollars for the down payment on his house. We need the money before the holiday ends.] I wanted to keep reading, but my manager called me into a meeting. That evening, while we were having dinner, Mom spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. “Your father and I need to discuss something with you, sweetheart…” My heart skipped a beat. For some reason, the last line from that post flashed through my mind. [I'll just tell her the business is in debt and that we need her money. She's always been a good child. She'll surely do what I ask.] “Mom… you and Dad aren’t in debt, are you?”

On the day I went to try on my wedding dress, Enzo had said he would come with me—but he never showed up. The train of the gown was too long. I stood alone in front of the mirror, bending over again and again to fix it more than a dozen times. The third time I stepped on the hem, my phone finally buzzed. 'Natalie just came back and isn't used to the weather here. I'll go pick her up. You try on the dress first.' The next second, a new post popped up on social media. Natalie had uploaded a photo. In it, Enzo was crouched in front of her, one hand wrapped around her slender ankle as he carefully fastened the strap of her high heels. The caption was only one line. 'He still couldn't bear to let me bend down.' When I tapped into the post, I saw that Enzo had already liked it. The bridal assistant sensed the shift in the air and tried to comfort me in a low voice. "Ms. Blackwood, Mr. Beck really cares about you. He was worried you might secretly diet and hurt your health, so he specifically told us not to alter the waistline any further." I smiled. He cared about me, yes. But his care had never stopped him from favoring someone else. I lowered my head and looked at the wedding dress on my body. Then it suddenly struck me. The thing that did not fit had never been the dress. It was this wedding.

After drunkenly ending up in bed with my best friend's older sister, Diana Conway, I become her secret boyfriend. By the eighth year of our underground relationship, my family gives me an ultimatum and arranges a marriage for me. I inform, "Diana, my family has given me a final deadline. I have to get married this year." Her movements pause for a bit. Then, she gently kisses my forehead. Just like always, she says, "Wait a little longer." But then, I come across a social media post from an intern named Steven Riley. The photo shows him and Diana holding their marriage certificate. The caption reads, "Mission accomplished—the female CEO is mine." I spend eight years chasing a woman who never settles down with me, yet he wins her over in just three months. Suppressing the bitterness in my heart, I leave the post a like. Then, I comment, "Congratulations. Wishing you a lifetime of happiness and lots of children." After that, I agree to the wedding date my family arranges. Suddenly, my phone rings. For the first time, panic creeps into Diana's voice. "Don't get the wrong idea, Walter. I only got the marriage certificate with Steven because I lost a game with some friends—" I cut her off, "Diana, I'm getting married."

The marking ceremony had reached the moment when the Luna crown should be exchanged, but my mate in name only still refused to lower his head. Once Drake Blackwood bit the side of my neck and completed the marking, our 66th ceremony would finally become real. Yet his eyes stayed fixed on his phone, and he did not even look at me. All because his widowed sister-in-law, Scarlett Moore, had posted a claim-release statement an hour earlier. Her late husband had been Drake’s older brother. Under pack law, Drake was obligated to protect her. Attached to her post was a ticket for a private pack flight, showing that she would land in an hour. Drake suddenly rose and announced in a low voice to the elders and pack members that the marking ceremony would be postponed. Then he left me standing there alone, turning me into a joke before the entire pack. I calmly packed away the Luna crown, calmly apologized to the guests, and calmly saw everyone off. After that, I opened Scarlett’s latest post on the MoonNet feed. In the photo, Drake stood beside her, holding out a newly hunted moonstone. I gave a bitter smile and called my birth parents through the private pack link. “Father, Mother, I’m willing to come back now.” “I’ll accept the marriage alliance for the Frostvale Pack.”

I saw a post while scrolling through my social media. [Adult male merman for sale. Hard to tame. Letting go for cheap.] I commented, [I'll take him.] The seller asked for ten thousand dollars and promised doorstep delivery. When I opened the package, the merman was nowhere near 160 pounds. He barely weighed over a hundred. His skin was sallow, his ribs visible beneath it, and his tail fin was rotting at the edges. I messaged the seller, [I want a refund.] The message failed to go through.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband's childhood sweetheart called, claiming a burst pipe at her home. Without a second thought, he ditched our celebration to play handyman. Moments later, Vivian Duffy's social media lit up with a smug post. [No matter when or where, my Superman arrives at one call. How should I reward him?] Accompanying the post was a photo of scattered condoms and torn clothing on the floor. I forced a smile, picked up my phone, and dialed a number. "My pipe is broken. Care to fix it?"

“Is this true?” I asked. I can’t believe of what I have read on the posts on the social media account of the two writers that I met, Sketch and Doodle. I read again the post of Sketch. I thought of something, not because there will be no update on his story but because of his post however I can’t remember where I read it before. Then, I read what Doodle had posted. I suddenly remember my story and I read the last scene that I wrote; same words, same scenarios and same comments like how I read their posts. I doubt quite a bit but really it amazed me which I don’t know why. That is why I read some of their last few posts and it was quite surreal which leads to a coincidental from the turn of events on what their real life is and on what I wrote. I won’t pay any attention to what is going on because I know it wouldn’t happen. It seems like my suspicion is true… the things that I’m writing is coming true when there are real people that’s involved on my story however I need to investigate this. Sketch wasn’t talking while driving, I can see on Doodle eyes how amazed he is while we travel, seeing a fine nature is really amazing while I seldom talk just to point where we have to move. I noticed Sketch glanced at me. I smiled. “I’m actually kidnapping both of you and you two are willing victim.” Sketch stepped on the breaks and it made a big screech of the car. “What?!” they both asked.

While I'm enjoying a promotional set that I've ordered from a restaurant, my best friend sends me screenshots she has taken from someone's social media feed. "I just met a weird customer who's clearly impoverished but acts like she isn't. How can I make her realize that she has no right to be dining in such a fine establishment?" The screenshot's descriptions grow even more familiar. "One has to spend an average of two thousand dollars in this fine dining restaurant, and yet this broke loser has the nerve to order the cheapest promotional set instead! On top of that, she's shameless and pathetic enough to make me take a photo of her that makes her look very fancy! "Seriously, I want nothing more than to post that ugly and unedited photo of hers on my social media feed and pin it there, just so I can humiliate her to no end!" Someone in the comment section tells the floor captain of the restaurant to watch her behavior. "She's a customer at the end of the day; your restaurant's reputation will suffer from a blemish if things get out of hand. "You should know when to stop. After all, you're in the hospitality industry, so you shouldn't act too arrogantly." The original poster has the guts to respond to that comment. "I will never show respect to those who can't afford a 14-thousand-dollar meal! The fact that I have the balls to post the entire thing on my social media means I'm not scared of that peasant at all! What can she do to me anyway?"