12 Am Thoughts Novels & Stories

Just the thought of someone owning me for the rest of my life gives me the chills. I let out a deep sigh and glanced at the time on my alarm clock. It's already 11 in the evening and I should really get some sleep. My class starts early tomorrow and I don't want to be late. I'll just clear my mind off these things and hope that tomorrow is not the day. "I hope not." • • • •

We drove the rest of the way in silence, and I just let myself enjoy the quiet moment. **** “Good thing I wore flats today,” I muttered to myself. The time was currently 12:30 and I just wanted the day to end so I could leave this building. The moment I saw the building, I knew today wasn’t going to be as easy as I had hoped it would be. Just the elevator alone was enough for me to begin to doubt my life choices and If Damian hadn’t insisted, I would’ve taken the stairs to the tenth floor in a heartbeat.

I looked at the time and there were forty-five minutes left for midnight. God, how can it slip from my mind? I was so occupied with my past thoughts that I forgot why I took this year-long internship. What if I don't receive papers on time? What will happen to my future if he gets successful in his plans? Why would have happened if Jane had not reminded me of my deadline? Shut up Nina, don't let negative thoughts enter your brain. It will make you weak. Be strong and face the situation bravely. "Take deep breaths in and out. It's not your fault that Satan cut your time short. He is the only one to blame" I whispered under my breath and followed the instruction given by Jane.

Damn it, we probably didn’t use protection…And I’m not on birth control either. It’s Thursday today, which means that I’ve got a runway to perambulate. My phone rings and I realize that the time is ten in the morning. “Amber, I’m waiting,” Liam utters. “I’ll be right there,” I tell him as I grab my purse.

A life to change is bestowed on me, and I must make the best of it. "What's with the panda eyes?" Matthew noted. I grumbled before sitting on the bench beside the roadside. It was seven o'clock in the morning, and I just had a short jog in the place, trying to re-energize my body. And I happen to run into Matthew. "Had some thoughts to ponder last night."

The kind that builds rails on staircases you used to fall down. At 8:01 a.m., the alarm would ring. At 9:00 a.m., a locker would open to a hand that thought it owned the world. Between now and then, there was only breath. I kept it, one slow count at a time.

A soft flutter. “Good morning,” I whispered. The movement made me smile for a moment, but the smile didn’t last. Because the thought returned immediately. Today. Today we would know. Or at least… Andre’s mother would know. I glanced at the clock beside my bed. 6:14 AM. Too early. Too early for the results. Too early for my nerves. And definitely too early for the amount of thinking my brain was already doing. I groaned softly and sat up. “Okay,” I murmured to myself. “You need to get through today without losing your mind.”

Dazzle sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor. It was just 6:40am, the following morning. His thoughts were a tangled mess, swirling with doubts and fears that he couldn’t shake. The decision he was about to make felt monumental, like a heavy weight pressing down on his chest.

Twenty seconds until bursting time. Her hand glided across the page without pause. “What are you writing?” I asked. “Just my thoughts,” she replied, her eyes not leaving the page. “I like to write them down when I’m idle.” Thirteen seconds. “Am I included in those thoughts?” Nine. Her lips curled slightly. “Try to guess.” Five. “I hope you do,” I purred, leaning closer, “because I’ve be—” The words choked off. My eyes caught a smear—just a glint of crimson on her elbow where it rested against the notebook’s edge.

Amelia's POV. My phone buzzed at 11.47pm. I was already under the duvet, the lights were off. I was just staring at the wall like sleep had personally decided to avoid me. NR_27: Are you awake? I smiled before I could stop myself. INK111: Writers don't sleep. We overthink. I sent the message. The three dots appeared immediately, it must actually be nice and I frowned slightly. INK111: Not really, what's wrong? Talk to me.