Fractured Promises, Lauren Ruiz [classic literature list .txt] 📗

As he lay there with his own sweat and blood soaking his white shirt, the boy looked back on his own life and regretted every decision he had made that lead him to this day.
He had trusted the wrong man. Of all things he had done, he trusted a man who he now knew was a perfect manipulator. He turned out to be the kind of person that he had always stayed clear from. But the boy had been so blinded by friendship that he never saw the man's true intentions.
The Man that he once called friend now stood above him with his gloved hands behind his back, and an obvious grin of triumph on his face. The Man had had an advantage since the moment he took out the gun from his hidden holster.
"I told you that this was the way it was supposed to end." The gleam in his eye told the boy that he thought he had won, and in a way, he did.
The Man had taken everything that was dear to him. The Boy should have known that the man was obsessed with him and his life since the very beginning. But by the time he had figured everything out, he was too late. Everything was set in motion, and he could do nothing to diminish it.
The Boy had a loving home, friends that adored him, and a woman that was clearly in love with him but was no longer his.
The Man was rich and powerful, and had everything he could have ever imagined of having. But he never had what the boy had: parents to cherish him, friends that would be there for him, and a woman to love him, not to use him for his wealth and name.
When the boy closed his eyes, he saw the laughing face of the girl he had been in love with since his young teenage years; the woman who he had fought for, but lost.
He wanted to cry, but he knew that would be a sign of weakness and defeat to the man who now towered over him.
The boy clutched at his injured stomach, the spot where the man had shot him. After the boy was through with coughing up more blood, the man said,
"I’m the one who deserves to lead a life like yours, not you. You never had a right of self-loathing. You are the golden boy of Ohio. What do you possibly have to complain about?” Then after a moment of silence, the man laughed and continued on saying,
“Oh yes, that’s right. You sightlessly slowly handed me everything that mattered to you, and I more than willingly accepted. You lead a life that any man would desire of having. And now it’s mine.” The man was silent again, as the boy roared out in pure agony. He was now lying down in his own pool of blood, and the sight pleased the man.
The boy he had once saw as his best friend was now withering in pain.
For almost a moment, the man wanted to reach out and help him, but quickly decided against it. He knew deep down inside that the boy still mattered to him, but he wasn’t going to let his old feelings get in his way.
The man now knew it was time to mess with the boy’s heart even more.
“If you ever truly loved her, you would have never let her go. And now, she's mine to keep and you will never have her again. You will lay here and think of how much of a failure you are to her, and eventually, you will die here. You were once my best friend. But then you turned your back on me. Look where that has lead you. You are so pathetic."
The Boy heard a loud cruel chuckle echo around him, and the sound of footsteps as the man walked away from him.
He was leaving him there to die.
He knew that he had to get up, but he just couldn't find the strength to. "I'm sorry that I couldn't save you..." he said in a hoarse voice. Then after one last thought of her beautiful face, his entire world transformed into darkness.

"Wash my car, clean the house, and erase any trace of him ever being here." The Man said to his guards and servants once he made his way home. He knew that soon enough, someone would miss and worry for the boy enough to start looking for him.
He knew that it wasn't exactly a wise decision to leave the boy at the abandoned home in Field Hanson, but he wanted him to suffer the way he had all his life.
He wanted him to feel helpless and lonely the way he had years before.
Once his father said that the boy was the kind of son a father could be proud of, something in the man just clicked.
He envied the boy for being perfect, and wished for the longest time to be like him, but knew that it was impossible.
The Boy would never take another's life, even if the enemy was going to kill him. That was the main difference between the two: The Man would shoot a threat in the head without a moment's hesitation, while the boy would rather leave the enemy unconscious for the authorities.
And even now, knowing that the boy was out there bleeding to death on the cracked floors of the abandoned home in Field Hanson, he still felt empty. He had gotten everything from the boy's life, but he still wanted to be like him.
He wanted his father and mother to look at him, and be proud of who he was. But instead, he still saw the resentment and loathing they had towards him. But he knew that someday, he would become just like the boy, but greater, and now no one, not even the boy, was there to stop him.

"This is so typical of you Clark!" Arianna Lynne shouted at her best friend, Clark Queen. The anger in her voice was shocking to Clark, and even to herself. Never in her life had she ever spoke to Clark in such a malicious tone, but she had to get his attention.
On the inside, she felt guilty for her accusations, but Clark hid so much from her that sometimes it was impossible to muster.
"What?" he said back, just as harsh.
"You know exactly what." she said, almost in a whisper. She knew that he would explode at her at any moment, but she didn't care. All she wanted was to feel trusted by him again, just like he did in the old days.
"No, actually I don't. Would you care to elaborate with me?" he said, annoyed. He understood perfectly that Arianna was worried about him, but there were just some things that she didn't have to know about his life.
"When it's finally time for you to open up to me, you just shut me out. It's almost as though Clark Queen is immune to honesty nowadays."
"Well excuse me for not wanting to share every detail of my life with you. Look, everyone has secrets Arianna. Don't you think I should have some of my own too?"
In its own way, he made a point. But Arianna didn't want to admit her agreement.
"Not if it's going to tear our friendship apart." Arianna said with a trembling voice. She was on the verge of tears now, and Clark knew it. He wanted to comfort her, but as much as he wanted to, he just couldn't tell her.
"Our friendship is strong. It can survive anything." Arianna was crying now, and he took her shaking body into his arms. He hated to hear and see her cry, but this time, he couldn't exactly do anything about it. He hated lying to her all the time, but for her sake, it had to be done.
They were on the trail near Clear Creek Lake, and as Clark looked up at the sky, he saw the grey clouds and knew that it was about to rain.
Arianna heard the rumble of lightning above her, but couldn't bring herself from crying. Everything that she had been bottling up since her mother's disappearance three years ago was pouring out.
Noticing that she wasn't going to stop anytime soon, Clark scooped her off her feet and into his muscular arms.
He only made Arianna cry a few times before over ridiculous arguments, but her weeping had never been this bad.
When Arianna's mother, Lafayette Francois Lynne, disappeared almost three years ago, Arianna's life had crashed down all around her. Since then, her father, Damon Lynne, had become an enraged alcoholic who hated how much Arianna looked like her mother.
Arianna’s mother wasn’t taken; she had just up and left. Damon woke up to find his wife gone. He scrambled out of bed and rushed all around the house to find Lafayette, but she was nowhere in sight. He tried calling her cell-phone, but it was disconnected. He called the police, but when they searched her name up, they said no such woman existed.
Damon tried arguing with them that his wife existed and wasn’t made up, but they wouldn’t listen to him. After awhile of just sitting there on his bed with a blank stare, he got up and went through the drawer’s, closet, and even the laundry, but found nothing of hers.
After realizing that his wife had abandoned him and their daughter, he dealt with it by drinking. Arianna would come home to find him crashed out on the couch, with envelopes of bills and beers scattered all around him.
She would always try to