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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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492
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1/1
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The Best Story In The World

Summary:

Tony is thinking. Very short fic.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Disclaimer: “NCIS” and its characters don’t belong to me they belong to CBS and are being used without permission. Please don’t sue because I have no money.

Author’s Note: First story in the first person. I was watching something and someone said this line: Let’s live like we’re telling the best story in the world. This was after a death. I thought that it kind of sounded a little like Tony.

The Best Story In The World

The best story in the world does not begin with once upon a time because that is only in fairy tales. Life is not a fairy tale. Take my life. I was born to a rich family and to everyone looking in might think I might have a storybook life, but it was by far away from a storybook, as it might seem. No, the best story comes from pain and suffering because it makes you a better person in some ways and it makes you not want to be like your parents.

As a child I was born to Anthony and Isabella DiNozzo and was what people thought a little prince to my parents. Little did they know that when I was a baby a nanny basically brought me up. My father was rarely home and when he was he drank. My Mother was no better. She too drank.

When I was older I was still raised by the nanny, but this time I could see my parents drink. Once I had put my Sea Monkey’s into a cup and placed it onto the counter. My Mother came in and drank it right in front of me. Why would my Mother drink my sea monkeys?

I learned to be a happy child even when I didn’t feel happy. I hated wearing the sailor suits that my Mother would stuff me into, so that she could parade me around to her friends. She thought that it was cute, but I thought it was anything, but cute. I hated pouring my Father’s drink and telling him my day and having him lecture me.

Then came the day that I had gone Trick or Treating by myself and when I got home my Father threw out my candy. I never knew why he did that and he didn’t tell me. The only thing that I got that night was a beating by the way of my Father’s belt and it hurt. It wasn’t the first time that I had done something by myself. I still remember the day that my Father left me alone in a hotel room all by myself. At first I was scared because I was alone.

I learned at an early age that you had to live like you were telling the best story in the whole world even if you didn’t feel like it in the inside. Maybe that is why I tell so many stories about everything and nothing.

The End

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author anny385.
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