Writing Contest! October Submissions!

Writing Contest! October Submissions!

Postby singinghymns » September 7th, 2016, 10:25 am

Writing Contest: October Submissions!

This is the thread to post your submissions for the October 2016 Newsletter! The main thread for chat/questions can be found here, as well as the details/requirements for submissions, which are also posted below for convenience:

singinghymns wrote:What happens if my story gets chosen the winner?
-Your story gets posted in the newsletter.
-You'll be interviewed about yourself (your history of playing Sims/Boolprop stuff) and your story.
-You will receive the Story of the Month medal: Image.

How do I make my story eligible for a feature?
-3000 word MAX!
-Yup, that's it!
-Once you have submitted your story, your house gets 30 points!
-The winner will receive an additional 30 points for their house.
-The deadline for October submissions will be September 28th. Then a poll will be created for the members to vote on.

What does the timing look like on this?
-If you get selected, please try to have your interview in by the 4th of October before the newsletter is posted. Interviews can still be edited in after the feature is posted, if desired.
-Extra features may be added for special events/holidays!

You're also free to format your work however please, but I'd recommend putting longer pieces of work under a spoiler. Good luck, and happy writing! :)
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Re: Writing Contest! October Submissions!

Postby Radiochocolate » September 7th, 2016, 11:45 pm


My best friend is in love with me.
There, I've admitted it, now I just have to deal with it.
That's why I'm out here running, right? Running always helps me figure out stuff, from math problems to... well, pretty much just math. But this is a question that can't be answered by using pure and hard logic.
I stop and sit down on a rock. All I'm hearing are the cars swooshing by and the thudding of my heart. The thudding of his heart, that time we messed around with stethoscopes in Biology. Does it always beat that fast or only when I'm around?
Some might say that it was pretty obvious all along, but their hindsight doesn't stretch as far as mine. He's always been clingy, both physically and mentally. He's always counted on me to be there for him, just like I always have, ever since kindergarten. We've cried on each other's shoulders for so long that I've never even considered telling my sorrows to anyone else. Which is why this stings me twice as hard.
Honestly, the subtle things were the ones that should have tipped me off. The way he puts his arm around me, with his hand softly stroking my shoulderblades before ending up on the other side. The way he realises that he's forgotten his water bottle only after I've already taken a sip from mine. The way he says "Marc" when no one else is around to hear him. In fact, that's the only time someone calls me by my real name, save for when I'm with my family. At school, he and everyone else just call me Marco, occasionally Polo. Thanks a lot for that nickname, Ling.
Ling. Ling.
What kind of parents name their kid Ling if they're not Asian?!
No, I already know the answer to that. The kind that are never home, that forget about recitals and leave money on the counter so their son can eat take-out before crying himself to sleep. Then one of them stopped coming home at all.
He deserves all the love he can get, but what kind am I ready to give? What can I give? I vowed when we were little that I'd protect him against any and all harm, but I can't protect him against heartbreak. He'll pretend that he's fine, like nothing's happened, but he'll start drifting away from me bit by bit until we're not even speaking. And that's just the best case scenario.
Then again, I didn't realise he felt that way about me, so he could surprise me again. Maybe the facade he's going to put up next time we meet will eventually become real; maybe, with time, I'll be to him what he is to me.
What is he to me?
A very close friend, that's the obvious answer, but to figure out my feelings for him I need to go past that label.
I haven't really thought of it, but he's actually quite handsome. That's usually my first criteria when someone asks me out: either you're a hottie or a nottie.
Boy, am I a pig.
As for personality, he can be very annoying, but even so, I like having him around. He's funny, sometimes even smart, and does what he cans to help out others. He's gotten into trouble for that quality more than once, with me being the one dragging him out of the mud. Even then, after all of my yelling and all of my scolding, his face shines up into the brightest of smiles.
I'm kind of curious as to what being with a guy is like, but I don't know whether I'm able to go further than mere interest of the unknown. It wouldn't feel right to do that to him, but I don't want him to slip out of my life either. If we do start something, would I be able to follow it through? Could I look at him with the eyes of a lover and not as much as glance at anyone else?
It seems that no matter which answer I give him, he'll end up being hurt.
The clouds pull closer together to form a carpet of lighter and darker grey. Across the street a window is lit, casting a yellow background to the black letters plastered on it.
"Live love is just a friendship set on fire."
What if I don't want our friendship to burn?
I stand up again and continue running, my feet tapping against the sidewalk. Tap tap tap, like the sound of his fingers against the desk as he's trying to get my attention.
My best friend is in love with me, and I don't know what to do.
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Re: Writing Contest! October Submissions!

Postby Heather » September 8th, 2016, 3:00 pm

So, there was originally a second part to this story, and I intended to post both of them together... but combined they were 600 words over the limit, even after I did a bit of editing. Consider it ~to be continued~ in another writing contest submission (or read the full story & ending on my website here.)

Like my last entry, it features my legacy characters because I am pretty much incapable of writing about anything else. :spin:

"You snore now." Jimmy was sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed when Comet opened his eyes. "Did you know that?"

"What are you doing?" Comet sat up, letting the thin, navy blue blankets fall into his lap. "You take up like, half my bed. You have a bed; go sit on that." He jerked his thumb towards Jimmy's bed, only a metre away from his in their cramped, shared dorm room.

Jimmy leaned back against the wall. He picked at the peeling, dull blue wallpaper as he spoke. "I just wanted to talk. You know, now that you can talk."

Comet sighed. "About what?"

"Well, Deirdre's pretty hot-"

He groaned. "Go back to sleep, Jimmy."

"Come on man, I was kidding. Besides, I can't sleep; you snore too much."

"Well you snore, too," Comet argued. "Just throw a pillow at me or something, I dunno. It works on you."

"You've been throwing pillows at me?" Jimmy grinned. "You monster; I thought I was developing telekinetic abilities. You've ruined my day."

"I'm not a monster." Comet kicked the sheets off him, and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself. "I'm an alien. Part-alien. One-eighth, if you want to be exact."

Jimmy turned his head to look at one of the family photos Comet had pinned to the cracked wall. "Yeah, I was wondering why your parents looked, well..."

"Normal? They're not."

"Nobody's family is normal, dude. I just meant they don't have the skin. You know, your skin."

"Green skin," Comet said. "You can say it; I'm not offended."

Jimmy pulled the photo off the wall. "So what's the deal with your parents, anyways? If they're not aliens, what are they?"

"Dude, you're going to rip that. Give it to me." Comet lunged forward and wrestled the photo out of Jimmy's grip. He discarded it on the stack of textbooks piled next to his bed. "Why do you care about my family, anyways? It's not like you're ever going to meet them."

"Ouch. I thought we were friends, Comet. Best friends. Why can't I meet them? You afraid they're gonna think we're secretly gay for each other or something? Half the dorm probably thinks that already; you follow me around like a lost puppy." Jimmy smiled. "It's cute."

"It's not cute." Comet glared back. "I wish I had other friends, okay? It's not like anybody wants to be, though. You're the only one who's made any effort, and only because you had to." He pulled at a loose thread hanging off the hem of his t-shirt.

"Hey, nobody forced me to be your friend," Jimmy protested. "I could've totally ignored you first year; it would've been easy enough. But no, I took the time to get to know you, because I like you... not like that, but like a brother. You know?"

"Yeah, I got it," Comet said with an amused smile.

"So now that we're clear...." Jimmy shifted, stretching his legs over the side of the bed. "Are you going to tell me why your parents aren't as normal as they look? Do they like... probe people? That's what aliens do, right?"

"No, we do not probe people. We act just like everybody else, okay? My parents have normal jobs, and went to school like normal people, and had kids the normal way," Comet shot back.

Jimmy frowned. "Okay, but you just said they weren't normal."

He sighed. "They're witches, okay? Well, my mom's a witch. Dad's a warlock. That's all there is to it. Happy?"

"They're magic?" Jimmy raised both eyebrows. "So... are you, like, magic, too? Or are they not your biological parents? They aren't, are they? That's why they don't have the green skin, right?"

"What? No, don't be stupid." Comet leaned over the bed to retrieve the photograph he'd taken from Jimmy. He held it out towards his roommate. "See? I look just like my dad."

Jimmy studied the photograph. "Yeah, I guess. 'Cept your dad's a ginger, and his mouth is a totally different shape, and that still doesn't explain the skin thing."

Comet rolled his eyes. "Green skin's from my mom's side of the family. She's a quarter-alien, you know, it just doesn't show."

"So did you get her abilities, too?" he asked. "Or are you a muggle?"

"That'd be a squib, Jimmy," Comet corrected. "But yeah, I got them."

Jimmy's smile widened. "You know what that means, right?" He leaned closer. "Yer a wizard, Comet."

"I guess, yeah."

"Is that... that's how you got your voice, right?" Jimmy toyed with the tortoiseshell glasses he always wore. He didn't need them, he'd confessed to Comet soon after they met; he just wore them because he claimed it made him look smarter. The effect was lost when they were paired with a shirt that read 'I'm Hotter Than Your Girlfriend', heart print boxers, and stubble that should have been shaved three days ago.

Comet rubbed at his throat. "My parents always told me that they couldn't do anything about it. I believed them, too." He glanced at the photograph Jimmy was still holding. "Until I started reading about the magical properties of plants. For class. It was stupid but... I thought... I thought maybe I could figure something out."

"And you did, obviously," Jimmy interjected.

"Yeah." Comet twisted his hands together. "It's just... there's got to be a reason they didn't tell me, right?"

"Hey," Jimmy set the photo down on the bedspread, and put a hand on Comet's shoulder. "They probably didn't know there was a cure, that's all. There's got to be, like, some weird old textbook here they wouldn't have back home." He gave Comet a reassuring smile. "There's no way they'd keep something like that from you."

"What if they did know?" Comet asked. "What if the potion only lasts for a little bit of time and then it wears off?" He rested his chin on his knees. "What if that's why they didn't want to tell me? You know, so I wouldn't be let down?"

"You think this thing's gonna wear off?"

"I don't know," Comet mumbled. He tightened his arms around his knees. "I don't know." His voice wavered.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Jimmy asked. "You want me to take you to a hospital or something?"

"It's a bit late for that now." Comet frowned. "I took it weeks ago. I doubt there's much I could do about it at this point." He stared at his bedspread. "What would I even tell the ER staff, anyways? I took some weird potion? They'd probably think I was on drugs."

"Nah, you don't really look the type. Probably not necessary, anyways. It's been what, a month? If something bad was gonna happen, it would've definitely happened by now. Trust me." Jimmy gave him an unconvincing smile, then slid off the bed. Comet watched Jimmy pad over to his desk, and retrieve a laptop from under a stack of papers.

"That's mine," he said.

"I know." Jimmy had a mischievous look. He sat down on the bed with the laptop tucked under his arm. Placing it on the covers between the two of them, he opened the laptop, then opened up Facebook in a new tab. "Man, you really should put a password on this thing."

Comet groaned. "What are you doing now?"

Jimmy turned the laptop so that Comet could no longer read the screen. "Look dude," he said, "let's say I'm wrong. Let's say there's a chance your voice is a limited-time thing. You know what we're gonna do?" He looked up at Comet, who raised an eyebrow. "We're gonna make the most of it," he concluded. Jimmy began to type something, and Comet shifted in an attempt to read what he was writing.

"What are you doing?" Comet asked again. He made an attempt to swipe the laptop, but Jimmy intercepted him. "Give that back. Why do you always take my stuff?"

"Don't worry, man." Jimmy's fingers flew across the keyboard, his grin growing wider as he continued to type. He wasn't even typing properly, to Comet's annoyance; he was pecking at the keys with his two index fingers. "I've got everything under control."

"Do you always type like that?" Comet asked. "That's so inefficient."

"Dude, shut up," Jimmy scolded. "I'm doing you a huge favour."

"Are you going to tell me what that is?"

Jimmy turned the laptop once again so that it was facing Comet, and slid it closer. "See for yourself," he said, looking far too proud of himself for Comet's comfort.

Comet leaned forward and examined the screen. His stomach dropped when he saw who Jimmy had started a conversation with. "Oh god, you didn't-"

"Oh, come on, just read what she said." Jimmy rolled his eyes. "I promise I didn't say anything weird, and I even typed in perfect, grammatically correct sentences, just like you, you loser."

"There's like, four typos in this." Comet groaned. "She's going to think I'm stupid."

"Nah, don't worry about it; she'll never notice." Jimmy watched as Comet continued to read the conversation. "So? Am I the best, or what?"

"You asked Marielle if she wanted to go skating with us... why?"

"Aw, come on man. I know you like her. You get like, ridiculously happy whenever you get the chance to talk to her. It's almost adorable."

"We haven't even been friends that long. She probably doesn't even want to go; she probably only said yes to be nice." Comet pushed the laptop away from himself.

"Look, you said that you're worried the potion might wear off. What if that happens before you get a chance to really ask her out. You know, in person? If you keep putting it off, you might never get the chance." Jimmy jabbed at the screen with a finger. "Look, she wants to go with you. Just show up and give it a try, alright?"
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Re: Writing Contest! October Submissions!

Postby Jesslb429 » September 9th, 2016, 11:06 am

On the docket is something I don't remember writing. It has my fingerprints all over it, including formatting for a class. :dizzy:

Anyway, like I said, I don't actually remember writing this, but I found it buried in my hard drive. So I edited the crap out of it. It's not my best, by far, but I think it is a neat idea that past me had. It's a bit on the short side.

After The End
“You're dripping on the sofa.” Levi stared intensely at the TV, not breaking focus while still chastising the young woman next to him sitting next to him. The clacking of controllers mixed with the sounds of bards and clerics fighting the greatest evil in the negaverse. Frey stared at him briefly before turning back to the game.

“Maybe if you focused more on the task at hand and not on my state of moistness, we wouldn't be dying to three demon elves from Shodanhan.” Frey smirked and began to mash buttons. Her long,blonde hair hung limply against her, dripping and forming small puddles on the floor near her feet. Levi elbowed her, despite being on the same side, he wanted the glory. His resolve soon dissolved as he began to violently mash one button.

“Come on! Come on! Come on! I pressed X! You saw me press X. See. X.” He gawked at the screen in front of him. His character was lying on the pixelated grass without a head. Frey began to snicker. Her composure was breaking, but she wouldn't go too far. She stared at him again. His controller was on his lap and he was awkwardly pouting while trying to retain his manly demeanor.

“You suck. Really. You're supposed to be on my side. Not the system's. GOD!” He leaned back in his seat, fidgeting in an attempt to get comfortable. Along with that, he began to play with his shirt, sticking his fingers in the bullet holes coated in dried blood. Frey put the controller onto her lap.

“Would you stop doing that? We have a long time and I don't think we can afford to get this dejected this early because of dumb things.” She picked up the controller again and began to play. Levi glared at her.

“That is easy for you to say. You didn't get caught in a firefight on your way home.” Frey put the controller down again and dropped her head into her hands and sighed loudly. After a second, she hit him hard in the stomach. Losing his breath, Levi began to cough.

“Do you think drowning in my tub was a fun day for me? Do you think that waking up the next morning as a not-zombie who has to cohabitate with a surly man who keeps putting on the shirt he died in, which smells, was how I wanted to spend my day? To not ever be dry again? ” She began pressing buttons randomly. Levi opened his mouth, letting a small noise eek out. An apology was against his nature and blind forgiveness was against hers. He picked up his controller and signed back into the game.

“I'm not sorry, okay? It must be hard. Remember when we first met? When you told me that,right before everything went black, you felt peace? I didn't get that. I got anger and regret and unfinished business. If I wear this shirt with its stains and blood, I feel life again. I need to be alive again, but for whatever is happening to us, that isn't an option.” Frey paused the game and put the controller down for the last time. She ran her fingers on her skirt, ridding them of water and grabbed Levi's hand. He lowered it to his lap. Running his thumb over hers, he could feel its temped warmth.

“Levi, I can't give you your life back. I can't make it feel better and I can't bring back our loved ones. We have to stay strong together. Now, as a token of our solidarity, let's kick Matter Warg 3's ass!” She let go of his hand, scooping up her controller in the process. The music began to blare and Levi jumped back in. A sad smile spread across his face as he began to battle with fictional dwarf mages.

“What do you think of Chinese? Wok Pho's is super quick and you can try out those lightsaber chopsticks.”

“Lee, it's ten in the morning. It is not going to happen.” Frey giggled and glanced over at him. Part of her heart, which still beat slowly in her chest, lifted a little. All they had was each other. For all she knew, they were the only two and would be there until the earth died. This was all they had after it was all supposed to end. Levi and Frey, cohabitation partners for all of death.

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Re: Writing Contest! October Submissions!

Postby Emily Whalers » September 12th, 2016, 1:56 am

This contest inspired me to write a bit about my legacy characters too - this story features my Generation 4 heiress, Insane bad-movie-lover Callie and her brother-in-law Matthew. This is my first attempt at writing fiction in....many years, so please be gentle. :cover:

Bad Ideas
Matthew Hamming slowly walked to the craft services table. He poured himself a cup of coffee, stirred in a tablespoon of cream, and sighed. Today was already shaping up to be a long day on set. The scene he was supposed to be shooting was delayed when his costar Emmy had a meltdown about her wardrobe, and while he parked his car there was some sort of commotion about the Best Girl stealing some props.

Matthew wasn’t satisfied with this film project either. Sure, he was thrilled when his agent told him he had been cast as the new James Bont - Matthew had grown up watching the original franchise, and had always secretly hoped he could one day play Bont. In reality, he felt more than a little silly running around on set, avoiding fake explosions that would be added in post, and flirting with women half his age. He would be celebrating his Elder birthday the day after this project wrapped, and he wanted what could be his last film - Matthew hadn’t yet decided if he was retiring - to be a role he was at least slightly proud of.

Gripping his coffee tightly, something he often did when stressed out, Matthew asked the director is shooting would start soon. He did not get the response he wanted; one of the new digital cameras was broken, and the only replacement had been locked in a warehouse clear across town. Matthew decided to sit down and review his script for what seemed like the hundredth time. There had to be a way to give old James Bont a new, interesting twist.

As he opened his script to the scene scheduled for today’s shoot, he could feel it. She was drawing closer, and dealing with her was the last thing he wanted this morning. Sure enough, Matthew saw her looking around, and as soon as she caught his eye, she excitedly bobbed over to him.

“Matthew!” she loudly exclaimed, causing him to briefly choke on his subpar coffee.

“Cal-Callie!” Matthew sputtered. “What are you doing here? I thought you were working on that kids’ show in the other studio?”

“We wrapped production for the day, so they sent me over here. Isn’t this exciting? We get to work on a real James Bont film! And I can run some new movie ideas by you! You know, because you are a professional and all!”

Matthew silently cursed his bad luck. Callie Scatterday, his sister-in-law, was a sweet gal, but she was a little detached from reality. Okay - very detached from reality. Callie desperately wanted to direct her own films, but her ideas were just plain awful. Matthew went out of his way to connect Callie with jobs that could help her achieve her dream, but she had earned a reputation for being eccentric and difficult to work with, though very enthusiastic. Matthew couldn’t bring himself to hate her eccentricity - his wife, Callie’s triplet Frankie, had a similar personality - but hearing about Callie bouncing from set to set after annoying everyone with her talk of killer nano-robots and the like quickly grew tiresome.

Resigning himself to his fate, Matthew took a deep breath and looked Callie in the eye. “Alright, Callie. We’re going to be stuck here for a while, since one of the cameras is broken and my costar is throwing a tantrum over sequins. What have you come up with?”

“Oh, wonderful! I was up all night writing. Okay, so picture this: giant scorpions invading Champs Les Sims!”

“Uh…” Matthew wanted to explain that scorpions weren’t the most attractive concept for a film, but he was quickly cut off.

“You know those huge tombs they have under the nectar cellars, right? Well imagine some unlucky explorer unleashing thousands of scorpions all across the countryside!”

“Uh, I don’t think scorpions are very ‘in’ right now, Callie.”

“What?” Callie looked genuinely shocked. “But everyone loves scorpions!”

Matthew shook his head. “Sorry, they aren’t. I overheard a couple of producers discussing a failed scorpion pitch a couple of days ago. It’s just not happening.”

“Oh.” Callie seemed very disappointed. Matthew hoped she would buy his lie. He frequently told little white lies to let Callie down easy. “Wait, I have another idea! You know the Terracotta Army in Shang Simla, right? Well, what if they came to life and started destroying villages?!”

Matthew was truly astounded at how many of Callie’s ideas involved giant destructive creatures. “Well, maybe could work if…”

“Wait! I have an even better idea! Dogs! All of Bridgeport’s dogs escape and…”

“...and they become huge and wreak havoc on the countryside?” Matthew finished as he took another sip of coffee.

“Yeah! How did you guess?” Callie asked, quite surprised.

Matthew knew she would be devastated if he criticized any of her ideas, so he carefully chose his words. “Your script ideas all seem to follow the same basic pattern.”

“Well, obviously! I am an auteur, after all!”

Taking another deep breath, he continued. “Fair point. Look, if you develop that Terracotta Army idea into a feature-length script, I’d be willing to give it a read, but these ideas need a lot more development before any producer will consider meeting with you.”

Callie squealed, and Matthew again choked on his coffee. “Oh my Plumbbob! I’ll get to work right away! This is so exciting! A real movie! We’re going to make a real movie!”

“Whoa, wait! I didn’t say that…”

“Come on Matthew! You just have to play the General. Nobody else is good enough! Oh, what scene should I write first…” Callie trailed off as she wandered away, and Matthew swore she was already practicing her Simmy Award acceptance speech.

Matthew slowly exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His eyes darted around, making sure nobody was watching him. He casually pulled a small flask from his coat pocket, tipped the contents into his lukewarm coffee, and took a long drink. Retirement seemed much too far away.
The Scatterday Matriarchy - Chapter 5.9 and 5.10 published October 31, 2016
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Emily Whalers
Totally Not Three Kids On Top Of Each Other In a Trenchcoat
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Re: Writing Contest! October Submissions!

Postby Blamsart » September 15th, 2016, 4:41 pm

Ooh I got inspired!
I wrote a kind of diary entry for one of my characters in my generation 9 legacy. People who read my story will probably understand more/easier, but I think it's clear enough for people who haven't read it. It's just the thoughts of a teenager.

Dear diary,

I don’t like writing diaires. And you’re not even a diary. You’re just a piece of paper I found lying on the floor, but I hear of so many girls my age having diaries, and I hear writing your thoughts down on paper can help you.

But I’m not too sure where to start. I don’t want to be your stereotypical girl who scribbles hearts all over the paper and writes his name in fancy colors and adds sparkles to it. That’s just going to make me cringe when I read this again.

Am I going to read this again?

And I don’t want to get depressing and talk about my mother. Or my father. I guess I could talk about my uncle…

He’s a nice enough man. Half of you know him I’m sure. His name is Chase Grace and he’s a famous pianist. His music is really good. He’s a really serious hardworking man, and he’s a kind person too. He’s letting me live with him while mom is in the hospital.

Erg- I guess I should be talking about myself. There’s not much to say I guess. Only that I don’t know how to be myself. Deep down I’m kind of a mean person (or so I’ve been told) so I try to be nice, like everyone wants me to. But it gets so hard!

You have to be nice, because when you’re mean people leave you. Because who wants to stay around someone who’s mean? No one. No one at all. Especially someone who’s mean AND smart. So what do you do? You be kind and maybe a little stupid. When you’re stupid it boosts people’s ego. They feel better about themselves.

My god how boring. Nobody’s going to read this. Dear diary, you probably really just want me to fangirl over my crush. And I do have one, so I guess I could. And I would’ve jumped on it a few months ago, but dozens of people have been telling me to give up these days. Usually saying he doesn’t deserve me or weird stuff like that just to make me feel better.

I like him. I really really like him.

And I have no idea if he likes me back.

Because he’s never shown any indication of being romantically interested in anyone at all? Or maybe he’s really good at hiding it???? I tried subtly confessing once, but I forgot he was dense or maybe he understood what I was trying to convey and he decided to ignore it??? His sister used to root for me, but now she’s saying there’s no chance and that I should give up. When people meet him they always ask me why, why would I possibly like someone who’s that hot-headed, arrogant, self-centered, reckless and dense?

Which are totally legit questions that I cannot answer. I wish I had an answer. He has interesting things to say? He’s cute. He’s loyal to his friends (reaching that level is not easy let me tell you. I’m not even sure I’m there yet.Sometimes it feels like I’m just background to him). He goes on daring adventures. He loves to sniff out mysteries. He moves quickly, you have to run to keep up with him.

But I want to. I want to be able to run by his side, not behind him. I want him to see me as an equal. Maybe I’m not as smart as him, but I’m strong. I’m resourceful. I can help him.

But he sees me as fragile. Like a porcelain doll on a shelf.

But if I show him how strong I really am, he’ll leave me.

Do you know what my dad said to my mom before he left?

It’s not our fault.
There’s nothing we could’ve done.
She was just born this ungrateful.
This selfish.
This rude.

I give up.

She’s all yours.

I repeat these words in my mind every day before I go to sleep. So I can remind myself what not to be.
I would never give up. ever ever ever ever ever ever ever
Click on the picture and join my now 9 generation long sims 3 story

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