"Oh God" He thought, "please don't."
Angela had it. The coolest, most prestigious item in perhaps the history of the world. The object to define the suave and sophisticated young man that he was. The item he had so long fantasized about having.
It was an Asiachi-original leather bound notebook. So sleek, so elegant.
So inevitably doomed.
There it rested, precariously, atop Angela's tiny head as she gracelessly threw out her scrawny arms for balance and smiled radiantly to her imaginary audience.
She was in the backyard of their country home playing circus once again, the two metre length of...

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As per usual, our conversation lasted two words:
And that was it for the rest of the day.
I can't explain it. It's not like we were friends or acquaintances, or even enemies although some might've described our relationship as such. We certainly had a bit of an obsession with one another, but whether it was in a negative or positive way (one can {and will} argue that obsession is never a positive thing) I can't be sure.
But everyday was the same; walk in, greet each other, and stare from the corners of our eyes.
It wasn't...

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"I never asked to be a hero," Fred screamed. "As a matter of fact, I was supposed to be the villain!" Fred grabbed Judy before Punch was able to stop him.

"Fred...what is your goal, what do you think you can accomplish by scaring Judy?" Punch asked calm as the dead wind that laid heavy against their skin.

"I want to obtain the Marionnettes. I want to be free to wake up and pull the strings of life without being looked at as someone who will save mankind," Fred said as he let go of Judy. His hands white with...

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The audience stared open mouthed at me. I didn't know if I should cover up or keep dancing. Who would have thought I would have fallen out of my costume? A wardrobe malfunction, that's what they called it.

So I did what I thought was the right thing to do. I pushed myself back into the low-cut tube top and kept on dancing.

It wasn't like I was a double D floating through the air as the tassels twisted blindly around. I could fudge a C on a cold day.

I just hope someday I will live down the day...

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Midnight on the roof and I am still standing in the same place he left me. This wasn't what I had planned; losing my virginity on the tar and gravel roof of the Shop and Save. Especially when the guy that took it was hiding from the cops.

His breath smelled like gummy worms as he kissed me. His hands cold as icebergs, I just wanted it over and done. I was tired of being the only nineteen year old that never knew what it felt like to...you know, do it.

I didn't expect it to be so quick. Fast...

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Going nowhere fast.

That was what her father said every time she got less than an A, or whenever she had less than three hours of homework. The fact that she played varsity soccer, with a scholarship nearly guaranteed, didn't seem to change his opinion of her.

Turned out he was right. In the second-to-last game of the season, she fell and broke her ankle. No scholarship for her. She gave up on college.

She ended up as a bartender at one of the hippest restaurants in the city. And you know what? She found she had more fun at...

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The year was 1986, when Madonna was telling her father not to tell her what to do, and life changed beyond my own imagination. The holiday had been planned for ages, but I had no desire to spend two terminally tedious weeks camping with my younger sisters. I had Mark, with his dark hair and warm lips, and I couldn't bear to leave him for a fortnight. He might fall under a bus, or worse, fall for Jayne Marsden and he stilletto heels.

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