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My name is Michelle. I was born in a small town an hour away from San Diego. My parents moved to Modesto when I was three weeks old and have lived here ever since. I am the oldest child.
(Please read the beginning to understand the story, thanks.) When we got home mum didn't know what to do with herself.
Hatred: a universal feeling of anger and rage inspired by an object or a person. This is how I feel when I look upon the face of my identical twin brother Lieo.
"This is important, Eliza," my grandma said, but I just nodded too distracted with the sun rising into the sky. It had been a long time since I had seen the sun.
Ice covered the pond. Moonlight filtered through the trees. And white pelts moved in the shadows. Suddenly, a flash of grey fur exploded from the darkness.
Chapter four. "Where are we supposed to start?" I looked around at the amount of stuff that had to be sorted through and felt a sinking feeling.
Chapter Two I remembered where the light switch was and found it imediatly but it did no good.
I'm naturally open minded about most things, food (unfortunately) not being one of those.
PART 3 Forcing himself to step forward he heard the muffled voice again. It was coming from the inside. The lid occasionally bounced with each new thud, rattling the catch that held it shut.
"A woman has twins, and gives them up for adoption. One of them goes to a family in Egypt and is named 'Amal.' The other goes to a family in Spain, they name him 'Juan'.
At that moment I honestly thought I was about to die. Ivan knew about Chris and he would surely kill him and then me or vice versa. I decide to play dumb just on the off chance I had it wrong.
Chapter 1 Allie A girl was running. She seemed to be in pain, and was limping heavily. As she ran, her long black hair streamed out behind her, like a flock of ravens, all tangled and twisted.
"A wealthy family hired an author to write the family history, but expressed that he would have to soft-pedal the fact that an uncle had ended his life of crime in the electric chair.
This is my debut Bollywood screenplay, inspired by Barack Obama's 'Dreams From My Father'.
*This is a story I've made up in poem form. It is relatively long so I appreciate anyone who reads it.* Meet AJ. AJ grew up in the ghetto with no father.