Angelina B
Bio
Thanks for reading my writing! :)
Stories (9/0)
Diamond Pills
Tahlia Juanarez clocks into her shift at 5AM, the first thing she does? Walk into the vault to check on the diamonds that the bank is holding onto. The estimated total value of seven shiny rocks? $35,400,000. The repair man enters the room an hour after she arrives, he goes in and sets up his ladder to repair the overhead light, as he’s about to leave, he informs Juanarez that the security camera is damaged and will probably break down. He offers to fix it, she graciously accepts and with that, the security footage cuts out for the next ten minutes and Harold Sanchez, otherwise known as, “handyman harry,” sets a timer of five minutes to find the diamonds. Out of 250 metal boxes in one room, only one has what he’s searching for, except he doesn’t know which. He rushes to lock pick 15 locks and with two minutes to spare, he gets lucky. Grabbing a bottle of water, he prepares himself to swallow down 7 sharp, expensive, diamonds. He gets lucky again and doesn’t choke. As he walks out of the bank, he almost makes it before his luck runs out and he collapses due to kidney failure.
By Angelina Babout a year ago in Fiction
Bank of America
It’s 12:02 in the morning when 4 people in clown masks holding assault rifles come waltzing into the bank of America like they own the place. In some ways, they did. The man behind the desk spots them, dropping his favourite mug filled with mediocre coffee onto the floor, shattering the glass. He moves to hit the panic button, but, it’s too late. The old man who he greeted before is grabbing his wrist and slipping a matching clown mask down to cover his face. “Get down,” is all he tells him, the kind tone from earlier gone as the front desk receptionist slowly sinks to the coffee covered floor with his hands raised. The four robbers join the older gentleman, tossing him a gun of his own before beginning to crunch down on the bank tellers. At 12:05, they have accumulated a grand total of $1,232,100. Three men control a select few bank tellers, rushing them to put more money into the bags while two women take the valuables of the patrons. When 12:12 hits, the bombs surrounding the building go off. And 5 politicians walk away with $5,000,000 in the cash, provided by their loyal citizens of course.
By Angelina Babout a year ago in Fiction
My Favourite Storyteller
My dad was a storyteller. In the few memories I have of my father, I can pick out numerous ones of him telling outrageous stories to me that my 3-5 year old brain took as fact. While if I told you them you would say, 'that's a joke! how could anyone believe that?' and I agree, who would believe such a thing? However, growing up, any sentence that came from my dad's mouth would be a statement I defended with my life, something I think many people can relate to. As a child, I looked at my dad as a man who had lived life, and had the proof to back it up. That's why when he told me about how I was born on a farm in a water bucket, (despite having lived in the city my whole life) I believed him with the utmost certainty. In fact, it wasn't until I finally questioned my mom a few years ago that it occurred to me how outlandish it was. Regardless of the decieving nature of it all, I'm grateful to my dad for the memories I have of the entertaining, ridiculous, and shocking stories he told me.
By Angelina B2 years ago in Families
Mother’s Favourite
One of Marcus’ earliest memories was from when he was 4 years old, laying under the old pear tree in his backyard. With his head in his mother’s lap and eyes watching her smile while the sun set behind her silhouette. There was a soft breeze that day, just enough to make the grass sway against his pale legs. Just enough to make his mother’s brown hair blow slightly to the left. The green pears not quite ripe yet shook periodically with their branches. Marcus still remembers the way his mom pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear, she did it with soft hands and a softer smile, small wrinkles in the corners of her eyes appeared as she turned her head away from him to look out into the field. Watching the sunset with content. Marcus didn’t care much for the sunset, he was far too mesmerized by the beauty radiating from his beloved mother.
By Angelina B3 years ago in Fiction