"It was a wonderful experience interacting with you and appreciate the way you have planned and executed the whole publication process within the agreed timelines.”
Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh Pal
Huffing, I slammed my hand down on the kitchen counter, wishing like hell I could throw my cell against the wall and never talk to anyone again. “On my way,” I growled.
Cliff sighed. “What’s taking so long?”
If he only knew. It was a bad day for me. Hell, every fucking day was worse than the last. It didn’t help that my father liked to call and remind me of my failure every goddamn week. “I’ll be there in a minute,” I snapped.
“Dude, hurry up. Emma’s been asking about you. I think tonight’s gonna be your night, if you get out of your shitty mood.”
I hung up the phone and took a deep breath, my fists clenched tight to keep my hands from shaking. Sometimes I wished my friends knew about my past, so I wouldn’t have to come up with bullshit excuses every time I got pissed. Cliff was my friend and we started up a band a couple of years ago, but he didn’t know about my real life; neither did Emma.
When I picked up and moved from Charleston to attend college in the North Carolina Mountains, I’d left everything behind. None of the students recognized me, or put together the pieces of who I actually was. It was nice for a while, but I was living a lie. I fought the urges inside of me every single day.
Hurrying out of my apartment, I took the stairs two at a time. The smell of weed wafted past my nose. I’d give anything to smoke a blunt and forget life for a while, but it wouldn’t help.
Aditya Sharma
Huffing, I slammed my hand down on the kitchen counter, wishing like hell I could throw my cell against the wall and never talk to anyone again. “On my way,” I growled.
Cliff sighed. “What’s taking so long?”
If he only knew. It was a bad day for me. Hell, every fucking day was worse than the last. It didn’t help that my father liked to call and remind me of my failure every goddamn week. “I’ll be there in a minute,” I snapped.
“Dude, hurry up. Emma’s been asking about you. I think tonight’s gonna be your night, if you get out of your shitty mood.”
I hung up the phone and took a deep breath, my fists clenched tight to keep my hands from shaking. Sometimes I wished my friends knew about my past, so I wouldn’t have to come up with bullshit excuses every time I got pissed. Cliff was my friend and we started up a band a couple of years ago, but he didn’t know about my real life; neither did Emma.
When I picked up and moved from Charleston to attend college in the North Carolina Mountains, I’d left everything behind. None of the students recognized me, or put together the pieces of who I actually was. It was nice for a while, but I was living a lie. I fought the urges inside of me every single day.
Hurrying out of my apartment, I took the stairs two at a time. The smell of weed wafted past my nose. I’d give anything to smoke a blunt and forget life for a while, but it wouldn’t help. I could be stoned off my ass, or in bed with random college chicks, and still not be able to forget.
The night air was so cold I pulled my hoodie over my head and started on my way through the parking lot to one of the back street shortcuts. Snow had begun to fall and by the end of the night, the ground would be covered. Since I planned on getting drunk and going home with Emma, I didn’t see the need in driving my truck.
