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Welcome to my stories collection. Note that these stories are fictional, which means that they are not real and should not be treated real.
These stories are written by me, lettychubbs,thieft will be persecuted
Any constructive criticisms will be gladly received.So please give me some feedback after you read this

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Harry Oilman Chapter One

br> Harry Oilman sat by the weeping willow, shedding quite tears due to his failure. He felt very abased the day before because his position as one of the best strikers in Mutton hill was abdicated. His whole body was curled up like an anaconda, his head rested in his hands. Drooping, as if his whole weight lay on his head.
His hands with its dirty muddy fingernails clasped his jet-black hair in frustration. “ How could they do this to me??” “ I’m only fifteen, I had my whole future planned out playing soccer, now it’s all gone. I’ll never be on the best team anymore.” Just at that moment, a woman of about forty five appeared, pointed her finger at Harry “what are you doing here mucking around, hurry up and go to your math tutorial!”

Harry didn’t respond, because he was too preoccupied with his thoughts. His mum saw this as a disregard of her comments, she suddenly reached to her full eight, no longer speaking but shouted “ HURRY UP AND GO! OR ELSE I’LL CALL YOUR DAD AND HE’S GOING TO BEAT YOU TO A PULP!” “Mum, it’s not fair, they shouldn’t have kicked me out of the team.” “ Who cares, hurry up, or I’ll find something nice and strong to hit you with. Anyway, I bet they kicked you out for a reason, you probably suck. You are the only one to be blamed, I bet they saw you for who you really are, a stupid, egotistical, filthy, little brat!” Valerie spat out these venomous words. “How could you say these things, how could you hurt my feelings, you are my mom, after all, Why do you want to see me suffer, yet still taunt me with the weaknesses I HAVE. !" "

No Butting, dont' butt into my conversation! You can only speak when i allow you to do so." Harry really wanted to cry at this point, but he restrained himself not to let the tears fall freely because he learnt when he was little that real men don't cry. He learnt that phrase off his father. who was a spoiled, corpulent, ugly man and worst of all, a drunkard their arrival at their new house three years ago.
He was happy then and didn't used to be like this. Harry could remember the times when his father swang him on the swing, so high up until he thought if he let go, he will fly in the air. TH etimes when harry did something wrong, his father used to always defend him and protect him from his mother who was temperous , and had strange fits of anger whenver Harry went near her.

She would throuw commodities off the shelf and Harry would try to avoid it, of course, and that made her even more angry. Even when she is not temperous, Valery (for that was her name) liked to turn on the news until the speakers blasted sound that even the neighbourhood could hear, and that would wake everybody up, but at least it was better than getting beaten.
These were harry's thoughts, he slowly came to reality and remembers his sour failure: " No! I shouldn't sit here and sulf. I'm a man after all." He slowly trailed home to go to the math tutorial. But this time he had a determined look on his face.
Awhile later. Harry arrived at his house, and went inside.

Next chapter

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