A Book I Read Novels & Stories

You can read the book for curiosity's sake but not reading the book will not disturb the flow of the story so enjoy ! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

To stay away from everyone, to keep them all in the dark about how fucked up my life is right now. I look at my bookshelf and smile when I find my favorite childhood book. Little prince. I grab it and cuddle up on my bed with the book. I pull the blanket up to my waist and open the book on the first page. I can’t remember the last time I read this book, but I know it will bring me back to memories from when I was a kid because I remember reading it to Layla.

I entered mine, went through the three books I had gotten from the store, and set them down on the bed. I folded my arms and read their names. The Claiming Rites, Finding the One, and Under the Red Moon. There was no order in which anyone should read these books, so I sat down and picked up The Claiming Rites. After an hour, I finished reading. The book made zero sense, and then I picked up Finding the One and spent another hour reading through it. While the first book was incomplete, the second made a little more sense. I picked up the third, which I had gone to Zion’s room with. I took my time reading, and another hour went by.

All I desired to do was dry myself, wear a clean set of clothes, pick up my favourite book—Tell Me Your Dreams by Sidney Sheldon—and sit on my ‘bed. Ever since I found that book in the trash a couple of years ago, it had entertained me whenever I got bored. What intrigued me at first was the title, as I also had a few dreams. When I started to read it, I was hooked. I used to finish my chores as fast as I could, just so I could pick it up once again. I liked to imagine myself talking to its characters as though they were my friends. Yes, I had read that numerous times, yet I would read it over and over again because that was the only book I ‘owned.’ Perhaps someday, I would come across anoth

I walked toward the shelves, lazily running my fingers across the spines of the books as I scanned the titles. History of Blood Clans. Treaties of the Northern Territories. Ancient Magical Structures. Boring. Boring. Also boring. Who actually reads this stuff for fun? I kept moving along the shelves until one particular book caught my attention. It looked older than the others, the cover worn and faded like it had been opened a thousand times before. Curious, I pulled it out. The moment the book left the shelf, something clicked behind the wall. I froze. “…Okay.”

What was happening tomorrow and why didn't he say anything else? I exhaled deeply and threw the phone across the bed like it offended me. Slowly, I grabbed the book next to my bed. Make Me Yours Tonight. I used to love it and I have already read it three times. But when I opened the book and tried to read the first page, the words just hung there blank. They did not engage me as they usually did. I closed the book. My phone rang again. I grabbed it quickly, my heart skipping a beat and for a while, I hoped that it was him.

Zayden As soon as I got done showering, I hurried and dried my body and hair, put on my clothes and walk out the door. I see my little mate sitting in the chair I left her in but with a book in hand. I slowly walk over to her and lean on the back of the chair. I notice she is reading my favorite book. Catch 22 by Joseph Heller. “How do you like it so far?” I startled her apparently as she jumped as soon as I asked the question.

Maybe the writer had in mind to deviate the readers’ thoughts about the book at first glance. I lazily stretched my hand to pick the book, finally recalling, when I opened the first page, that it was literally the book I had been searching for. How did I not realize it was actually the last book I have read so far? I flipped through the pages, searching the actual chapter I read about poisons that I had once regarded as unreal.

Fucking idiot. I was sitting outside, perched on the stone bench beneath the ivy-covered archway, reading The 48 Laws of Power—my favorite book and the only thing I managed to bring with me from home. Honestly, it's the only reason I haven't lost my mind yet. That book isn't jusr philosophy; it's basically the blueprint for survival in a place like this. And it's been working. Slowly. Strategically.

Someone eventually places a plate of food in my lap—a hot, gooey toastie—and I nibble as I read, my eyes never straying from the pages. This book might be the best thing I’ve ever read. Or maybe it’s just that—for once—I feel something close to peace. Freedom.