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Lucky Charms
You know the phrase ‘life is a box of chocolates’ well mine is a bowl of lucky charms. I’d rather eat all the marshmallows than the boring shaped stars of grain I call reality. My reality slips beneath the surface at times, but the marshmallows of my fantasy still linger after the tears.







At the beginning we all start off in love. Mine was well, angry about his own existence, for all I knew I thought he was perfect. He had a career, had the looks, and was good at making everyone believe I was the bad guy. Yes, we fought over everything such as wanting to sleep rather than ‘woohoo’ and that I secretly wanted to dump him after 6 months of being treated like booty call.







But, something happened. I got it into my head that if I dumped him, he’d find me, blame me, and lure me back into his naked embrace once more. I couldn't find the answer to how to get rid of him for my own sanity!










For the months we had, I was running out of love and joy...





Chapter 1

After the joy ran out, I started hosting parties that would attract women to my future ex-boyfriend, Hanzel. He was stoked that anything involving alcohol and women would ever show up at our crappy house.



Some of those guests happened to be pregnant.



“Did you hear that I am preggers too?” I asked, Kylie.

“Nope. I don’t even care who you are.” Kylie grinned with a smug view that I wasn't aware of something.

“I was the one who invited you here!” I snapped.

“Welp. I’m here for the hot guy; you just ended up living in the same house as he does.” Kylie stated while munching away the eggs and toast I made this morning.

“How do you know Hanzel?” I questioned.
“Oh, he jogs around a lot.” She winked

“Where do you live?” I asked

“Oasis Springs.” She answered

“OASIS SPRINGS? Why was he jogging that frackin far?” I snapped again.

“I don’t know chasing a rainbow.” She rolled her eyes, tired of me questioning her about Hanzel. I couldn't help but feel jealousy. But I was at my wits end with him anyways. She thought he was hot, I wanted him gone. I saw a bargain right there.



“Do you want him?” I asked slowly.

“What! Why? So he can live with me? Ugh, I don’t need man stench I need woohoo stench. You keep him here, and I’ll take him for a…for a…heh, for a jog.” She snickered.



Meanwhile, during the party Hanzel had gathered some of the ladies around on the porch next to the bartender we hired.

“So, who are you old lady?” the red head named Joan asked. She had a tendency to be brash towards everyone in the neighborhood. I invited her for well, a fantasy that she would manipulate Hanzel into leaving me. It was a long shot, but it was something I fantasied about a lot.

“Honey I am the only lady here that made Hanzel who he is today!” Agatha grinned. She threw her hair back over her shoulder and smiled at the memories I didn’t want to know about.

“You mean you’re his mother?” asked Bella Goth

“No, honey I am the one who popped his man-cherry!” she giggled after sipping three martinis







Hanzel panicked at that point, not wanting to turn people off by the mere sight of Agatha. And hurried to change the subject, “So Bella, you’re pregnant!” he smiled softly.



Bella was too far drunk to talk about being pregnant.

“Yo…you..n…Agatha woohooed?” Bella slurred.

“Long time ago, anyways let’s talk about you. Should you be drinking while expecting?”

“Rainbow-bright invited me saying there was free appletini’s. I’ll just vomit it up later.” She giggled

“You mean, Lana. My Lana, with the rainbow hair invited you here?” Hanzel questioned.

Bella was too far drunk to give him a clear answer that night. Everybody went home after an hour of calling my party lame and left Hanzel wondering what I was up to behind his back. It was hard seeing him realize I no longer wanted him the way other women did.



“Lana, how did you know Bella and Kylie? Why did you invite them?” Hanzel asked
I couldn't think of a kind response at that point. “I ran into them jogging.” I stated. Seeing if he’d catch the clue, but nothing registered in his brain that night.
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