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What is the genre of drama in books?


Read online books Drama in English at worldlibraryebooks.comIn literature a drama genre deserves your attention. Dramas are usually called plays. Every person is made up of two parts: good and evil. Due to life circumstances, the human reveals one or another side of his nature. In drama we can see the full range of emotions : it can be love, jealousy, hatred, fear, etc. The best drama books are full of dialogue. This type of drama is one of the oldest forms of storytelling and has existed almost since the beginning of humanity. Drama genre - these are events that involve a lot of people. People most often suffer in this genre, because they are selfish. People always think to themselves first, they want have a benefit.


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All problems are in our heads. We want to be pitied. Every single person sooner or later experiences their own personal drama, which can leave its mark on him in his later life and forces him to perform sometimes unexpected actions. Sometimes another person can become the subject of drama for a person, whom he loves or fears, then the relationship of these people may be unexpected. Exactly in drama books we are watching their future fate.
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Read books online » Drama » You're One to Remember by Chanda Dobra (best books for 20 year olds TXT) 📖

Book online «You're One to Remember by Chanda Dobra (best books for 20 year olds TXT) 📖». Author Chanda Dobra



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his eyes closed. With a smile and waving, she started to run off. The moon was rising; she knew her mother would be upset.
By the time she made it back she was panting, covered in sweat, and exhausted. She closed the door behind her and took off Ash’s jacket. Suddenly she heard a screech of relief and she looked up sharply, her mother was running at her with tears streaming down her face. Her mother nearly tackled her down with a huge hug, she cried, “Honey what happened? Did you get hurt?” Myra looked at her mother as if she was crazy, “I was just walking with Ash and I saw it was getting late and left.” See looked around the room and saw her entire family sitting in the living room, tears soaking their faces. Looking at each of them, she looked back at her mother, “What’s going on?” Her mother’s eyes flashed with grief and she said quietly, “Sit down and I will tell you.” Myra cautiously sat on the couch and looked at her mother expectantly. She sat and grasped her arm gently, “Honey, Ash has been shot and they can’t find his body, but there was blood and everyone heard gunshots.”
Chatper 2


Myra’s heart went cold. She didn’t believe a word of it, Ash… dead? Her eyes narrowed at her mother with cold confusion tinted with sorrow, “I was just with him, so whoever was shot it wasn’t Ash.” She watched tears roll down her mothers cheeks, “You must have left before the shooter arrived-“She didn’t get much of a finish before Myra stood sharply and knocked the coffee table over with a scream, “I told you I was just with him! Stop torturing me!” Her mother stood and grabbed Myra’s arms more firmly now, trying to calm her daughter down. “Honey please calm down, I know this is hard for you to accept, but you have to. Ash is gone, he is dead and he isn’t coming back!” Myra turned sharply and slammed her fist on the side of her mother’s face. Blood flew from the force and her mother fell back on the couch. John stood and grabbed Myra’s arms, twisting them behind her back. He pushed her onto a chair on the opposite side of the couch and pinned her there. She screamed struggling, kicking furiously tears streaming down her face. It seemed like hours, the misery. I can’t believe it, I just can’t! It wasn’t true, was it? She had to see for herself, just once. A drop of blood, any kind of proof to show her that her one and only love was really dead. She knew deep down he was gone, but she didn’t want to accept it. Myra fought to get out of her brothers arms still, kicking and screaming, mostly crying with the pain of loss until she fell asleep from exhaustion.
By the time she woke up the sun was so high it didn’t shine through her window. Myra sat up; she was in her bedroom, but not on her bed. John must have put her on the ground as a punishment or something, because she hurt all over. Suddenly it hit her; she remembered everything that had happened. She closed her mind and reminded herself, Ash is dead, I punched my mom, John hates me, and I am all alone. For the oddest reason, she enjoyed putting herself in this misery. Misery seemed like her best friend now, the only thing that has been there all her life. That one feeling that has never left her, stuck beside her, forcing bad feeling onto her, and she did nothing but welcome it. The cold feeling of dread soared through her veins, it seemed to refresh her. Myra stood to her feet; she knew she needed to apologize to her mother. She walked into her mother’s bedroom but quickly froze in horror; she saw a gigantic black and red bruise on the entire side of her mother’s face. Myra broke down; falling to her knees and putting her hands over her face, crying. John walked in and Myra lifted her head, looking up at her brother the grief and guilt deep inside, ripping her heart to shreds felt unbearable. John’s eyes softened at his sister and he kneeled down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. Hugging her he made Myra rise to her feet once again. Slowly he guided her towards their sleeping mother; a dark feeling of cold anguish chilled her insides. Her pale skin seemed to get even paler; to the point she was whiter than a piece of paper. Now standing over her mother, Myra placed a caring hand on her mother’s shoulder. A tear rolled down her cheek as he mother opened her eyes and smiled exhaustedly at her daughter, the pain in her eyes burned brighter than the sun, but they were also filled with forgiveness.
***
Days passed by and Myra couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness off of her mind, Ash had been the one thing that kept her sane and now… now she felt so alone, or maybe she was just going crazy. Her mother healed fast, but she knew nothing would be the same between them. She watched the hours go by like minutes; all she did was stare at the clock and wait for the world to end. She didn’t focus on her studies; her teacher excused her temporarily once the news was out. Most kids would hate homeschooling, because of the lack of friends. Myra on the other hand enjoyed the solitary, that feeling of only her being taught made her feel important. Sighing, Myra stood up and walked out on the third floors balcony. She gazed over the town just outside of London’s main city. Getting bored fast she turned and walked back inside. The fireplace was burning now, she glanced at the clock. Only five minutes had passed, so it was still early. Walking down the old creaky stairs, Myra made her way down to the first floor. A large portrait of her great uncle Sam hung above yet another burning fireplace. His eyes always gave her chills as she walked past, she thought to herself; I swear that thing is staring at me… Ignoring it she opened the large wooden from door and walked out into the chilly evening air. Closing and locking the door behind her, she made her way down the stairs and landed in the grass. Myra closed her eyes and breathed slowly, enjoying the fresh air. Letting go of all her feeling she walked down the pavement, tucking her hands in her jacket pockets. While rummaging through her pockets while walking, she felt her Mp3 player. She stopped and whispered, “There you are…” Turning it on she plugged in her headphones and let herself go, seeming to become one with her music. Closing her eyes she listened to every beat, every little sound effect in the background and tone in the singers voice. Without even knowing it she jumped forward and air guitarted a solo. Laughing to herself she continued it until the singer became to sing again. She stopped as she saw some people casting her weird looks as they drove by. Dirt floated into the air as the cars dashed past. She turned off her music and gazed as the dust slowly fell back to the earth. Quickly she rushed across and skidded down the other side, which was a large meadow. Running, she dashed through the tall grasses and into the trees. She forest was thick, but she just ran. She ran from her life, from her family, from her dead boyfriend, from her own pain, from the creepy picture of her uncle, from everything. She wanted to be alone, nothing more. As she ran everything around her was a blurry mess, she didn’t realize how fast she was running until she tripped over a small fallen tree. She fell down in the dirt, cuts formed around her arms and legs and a gash on her cheek heavily bleed down her face, dripping from her jaw bone. Her mouth was filled with soil and her shirt and jeans were stained with the colors of the forest floor, she didn’t mind though. It only took her a few moments before she stood up again. Looking around she walked forward, wandering once again.
Myra’s footsteps were silent against the dead leaves as they scattered across the forest floor. With her hands softly brushing against the tree’s bark and the tall grasses, Myra made her way towards an unknown destination. Every movement she made was completely controlled and calm, as if flying gracefully through the air. Closing her dark golden eyes, the forest around her slowly turned to darkness. Quickly she stopped, this was her dream. A vision flashed before her eyes, this exact moment. It was all planned. All of this was supposed to happen. Her weird dream and Ashes death, all of it. Now frustrating confusion clouded her judgment and she ran farther into the trees. Leaping over small streams and larger rocks, she ran until she couldn’t breathe. Her lungs screamed at her, all her thoughts and memories flashes through her head. Everything that has happened, everything is just so over whelming! Myra eyes rolled back into her skull and she collapsed onto the forest floor. Everything went dark within moments, and her mind went blank.

Chapter 3


Opening her eyes, Myra lifted her head and looked around. At first the forest scene confused her, making her panic. Stumbling to her feet, she flattened herself against a tree and stared around. Slowly everything that had happened came back to her, and she relaxed. Stepping off the trees roots, she began to follow her footsteps back to the road she had dashed across. It took her a hour a two, but she eventually made it back to the house. She opened the door and closed it behind her. With a glance at the clock she sighed with

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