The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

If you have ever wanted to visit Croatia, you must be very careful! She has beautiful sea and really beautiful nature, but also haunted highways where some famous people have died. The most haunted highway is the highway between Nova Gradiška (Gradishka) and Slavonski Brod and tunel sv. Marko (st. Marko). In the past seven years, in the critical area of 40 kilometers, there have been around 2000 accidents near Highway A3. The locals recount everything. It is a well known urban legend to drivers in this part of town that one may see a woman in black and hear babies crying. Although it looks as though there is a woman hitchhiking, there is no one there upon the drivers’ investigations. People have reported that their radios have been turning off and on, feelings of paralysis and they have even felt like someone was driving the car instead of themselves. One man was driving his daughter and wife when he saw a pillow on the road with a baby in it. He stopped the car and went outside to pi...

Allen hurriedly gulped down the last of his milk when he heard the doorbell ring. “Mom! Chad and Mike are here, I’m leaving for school,” he shouted at the ceiling of the kitchen. He grabbed his backpack off the counter and headed for the door. “Wait!” His mother rushed down the stairs, half stumbling in the process, stopping him just as he grabbed the door handle. She looked haggard and a worry line creased her brow. Red rimmed eyes gave testament to the fact that she had been crying for some time. His mother absentmindedly adjusted Allen’s scarf with a nervous, shaky hand. “Remember to hurry straight home today, okay?” “I know, Mom. Mary’s coming today.” At the mention of Mary a choked sob escaped his mother’s throat. Not wanting to see her so distraught Allen tried to cheer her. “Look, why don’t I just stay home today?” he ventured. “You can’t, honey. You know the rules,” she managed to squeeze out, fighting to quell even more tears. “Now hurry and go.” With that she gave Allen a qu...

When I turned eighteen, I lived in a small dorm at a college in the middle of Nevada. I had traveled down a few cities from my parents, and without a driver’s license, I couldn’t drive to and from their house to visit them every now and again. The college was a good one and got me dead set on my career. The teachers were amazing and were always there to help me if I had a question or needed help. The dorms were nice, too. I felt right at home with my room and was able to get along with my roommate. I made great friends there; at least fifteen, I think. It’s been a pretty long time, so my memory is pretty fuzzy. Honestly, despite what everyone else said, college would’ve been a walk in the park if it wasn’t for my biology class. Don’t get me wrong, I love biology. In fact, it was what I excelled in the most. I had wanted to become a surgeon when I was younger, so I had always tried my best in that class more than any other. But that’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is that it wa...