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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



Fiction genre suitable for people of all ages. Everyone will find something interesting for themselves. Our electronic library is always at your service. Reading online free books without registration. Nowadays ebooks are convenient and efficient. After all, don’t forget: literature exists and develops largely thanks to readers.
The genre of fiction is interesting to read not only by the process of cognition and the desire to empathize with the fate of the hero, this genre is interesting for the ability to rethink one's own life. Of course the reader may accept the author's point of view or disagree with them, but the reader should understand that the author has done a great job and deserves respect. Take a closer look at genre fiction in all its manifestations in our elibrary.



Read books online » Fiction » Over the Butterflies by Sarah Teare (dark books to read txt) 📖

Book online «Over the Butterflies by Sarah Teare (dark books to read txt) 📖». Author Sarah Teare



Chapter One

I was itching with excitement.  Heart pounding, fingers tapping, stomach fluttering.  I should've been focusing on my test, but the anticipation was too much to stand. The source of my excitement was that I was going to see the newest superhero movie, The Rift.  It had my favorite actress,  Margaret Yule.  It was about a woman who was split between the future and the past. She was basically a female, time travelling Batman.  It was complicated.  I was even going to go the premiere.  Maybe I'd get an autograph from Margaret!   

 In my excitement, I had spaced off while staring at my teacher, Mrs.  Pearce.  I looked down quickly afraid that she'd think I was hiding something.  For someone so strict and cold, she didn't look like it.  She was probably no older than 40 years old, with long blonde hair.  She was pretty, and that made adults a lot less likely to believe you when you told them that she was a hag.  She had one of the worse tempers in the entire school.  She had yelled at one of my friends for sneezing in a test.  Sometimes, she would blame students who didn't even do anything for something another person did.  Once, I was blamed for supposedly throwing an airplane across the room to one of my friends.  I got sent to the office for saying that I didn't do it.  Basically, she was my least favorite teachers.  

I looked down at my test, but the words seemed to blur together into an indecipherable mush of complicated phrases and stragne facts that we were supposed to show how smart we were. My thoguhts kept straying as I worked on my test.  On one of the questions instead of writing the answer to who invented the telephone and what year it was patented, I wrote the name of my celebrity crush, Thomas Hares.  He was very dreamy.  Time passed, but it felt like every minute was more like five.  I finished my test and then I pulled out my phone.  Mrs. Pearce was strict, but she was no match for my stealth.  I carefully pulled my arm out of my jacket sleeve and then pulled it out of the bottom of my jacket, keeping the sleeve on the table with a pencil in it.  First, I made sure that the sound was turned off.  I texted Sam to see if he had finished yet.  He texted back and thenThen, I checked my Tumblr to see what was new.  Lots of my followers were also blogging about The Rift.  

Finally, Mrs. Pearce stood up from behind her desk.  Every students' eyes immediately turned to look at her.  "Time's up, Everyone pass your test to the front of the room."  Quickly the room erupted in noise.  At first, everyone tried to be quiet, but soon people had to yell over each other. That was until Mrs. Pearce yelled at us to quiet down or she'd fail us all.  The silence fell on the room faster than the speed of light.  There was still communication though.  I caught people glancing nervously at each other.  They had already been quiet for hours while testing.  They could barely stand the silence anymore.  They needed to talk.  Then, to everyone's relief, Mrs. Pearce told us that we could talk now.  

Once again, the room burst into noise.  I moved out of my seat towards my friends so fast that I knocked my chair over.  In my brain, I cursed myself for my clumsiness.   Thnakfully, the noise was enough to cover it up.  Awkwardly, I picked up the chair and put it back.  Then, I ran over to my friends.  It felt so good to talk.  I love to talk.  "Are you guy's as excited as I am for the movie tonight?"  I asked, not even bothering to cover up my excitement.  

"I don't think it's humanly possible to be as excited as you are,"  Meg asnwered, giggling.  

"Well are you at least excited?"  I retorted.  My friends and I loved to argue.  It was something we were all great at, practice makes perfect they say. 

They all smiles at me and nodded.  I knew that they were excited, but not half as much as I was.

Finally, the bell rang and it was a massacre to get through the door.  I shoved and pushed, and got out first because of it.  When I ran out of the school and jumped on my bike I yelled back at my friends to meet me outside the movie theater at ten.  Then, I turned my attention back to the road.  I could not wait to get home, I was starving.  

When I pulled up in front of my apartment. I threw my bike down in front of the door without even bothering to lock it.  Nobody would think of stealing that old rusty thing anyways.  

I ran inside and made myself a hot cup of hot chocolate.  "Jen!  What the heck are you doing eating Dad's Nutella?  That's for special occasions!  Oh NO!  YOU DID NOT GET IT ALL OVEER YOUR CLOTHES AND CARPET!   GO PUT YOUR CLOTHES IN THE WASHER!  YES! NOW!"  I yelled at her, as I got out some weird foamy cleaning substance that got out stains and put it on the carpet where she had miraculously spilled nutella.  How do you even do that anyways?  It's like a thick substance.  She's a mess, I thought as I scrubbed her mess.  

Then, my dad walked through the front door.  

"Dad!  Jen made a giant mess and ate your Nutella again!"  I yelled as I picked up the plate and cup of milk Jen left.  

"Oh come on, don't be so hard on her.  She's only seven.  I probably shouldn't have left it on the counter anyways.  How was school?  Did your test go okay?"  he asked. My dad was amazing.  He was tall and had messy brown hair with hazel eyes.  He was a journalist and wrote mostly about new films coming out.  My favorite thing about him, though, was his sense of class and being a gentleman.  It seemed as though he had been born in the wring decade, or even century.  He was always opening doors, pulling out chairs, and calling women Ma'm.  Even if it was as inoformal as dinner in front of the T.V.  he would always let a girl pick first.  When I was young, I thought that he was a time traveller from the past and that was why he was so courteous.  

"Hey Dad!"  I yelled as I heard him go downstairs to check on Frank.

"WHAT!"  I heard him yell back from the bottom of the stairs.

"Are we still on for tonight?"  I asked feeling my heart begin to race.  
"Of course!  Why would I miss a Daddy daughter date with my favorite oldest daughter?"  he answered with a chuckle.  If there was one person on this earth that was as excited as I was, it was my Dad.

Chapter Two: Broken Promises

In my room, I could barely hold in my excitement.  My room was full of posters for almost every book

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Publication Date: 07-02-2014

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