Romans & histoires A Miserable Little Pile Of Secrets

“Where is my mother?” Vivienne ignored the demand, circling slowly around the edge of the room. Her heels echoed like a metronome counting down. “Do you know what the problem with secrets is, Grace? They never stay buried not for long sooner or later, they rise and strangle the ones you love.” Noah’s voice was low, controlled. “What have you done?”

I want you to know that no matter what you will always remain my daughter. ‘Mom, you are not making any sense at all, of course I will always remain your daughter, you gave birth to me.’ Connie cried as she came to kneel before her mother Stuart commented in disgust, ‘Wonders never ceases to happen in this house of secrets.’ ‘Finally the truth is coming out,’ Sue chuckled

I have lost Alexander forever due to my immaturity and stupidity. I fell into my bed and started crying until sleep overtook me.

Besides, I had never kept him from her. That was not a justification for my actions, no matter how many times I told myself it was. And I had told that myself a million times, maybe more. Like the fact I was lying to only one of them made it better. I watched Milka bopping up and down to the song. I watched my secret, my darling little skeleton in the closet, and know it was about to be over. I knew that within forty-eight hours, all of Santa Clarita would know I was back. Forty-eight hours, if I was lucky.

However, of course he had left a lot of that curiosity for Emily. "Damn, even all the problems that happened to me haven't been completely resolved, but he said that there are many secrets that I didn't even know until this second?" muttered Emily to herself afterwards. It really made her feel very curious. ***

The room wasn’t that big, it really shouldn’t take her that long to search the office. Stopping by the staircase that led up to the second floor, Violet took in a shaky breath. Every time she thought of breaking into the office, Violet started getting this sick feeling. She leaned against the railing and took a minute to concentrate on her breathing. She stared into the caramel-colored liquid, feeling her nausea start to pass. Hearing someone, Violet looked up to see Nolan. She stood straighter, realizing how odd it must look for her to be standing there staring into a mug. “Good afternoon, Sir,” she said politely, keeping her head lowered.

Sorrow was plain on his face, but he was quiet. Not feeling like conversing anymore, I shoved my chair away from the table. Apparently they didn't either because they say quietly staring at the table. The air was dense and thick with depression. If they where going to get bothered by that small bit, they wouldn't even begin to handle what the rest of my life was like. What would they do if they knew my deepest secret? The Full Secret that Sebastion hadn't even fully known. Would they still stand here and call me a comrade, or would they call me a monster instead?

Benton asks. "You will never find out how good I taste," I say to him. Benton licks my neck. "Oh Reese, you bitch, I already know what your pussy tastes like. I know how you liked to be fucked, i know every little thing about you. I know all of your dirty little secrets. I know what a fucking whore you are," Benton says to me.

A faint frown forms on my lips. “What is this…” I murmur under my breath. I slide a finger under the flap and tear it open. A single white sheet. I pull it out and unfold it. The moment my eyes land on the words, my entire body goes still. I KNOW YOUR SECRET AND THE TRUTH YOU ARE TRYING TO HIDE. AMARA ROOSEVELT. My breath catches. My fingers tremble so violently the paper almost slips from my grip. No. No… no, no…

The air in our living room was thick, suffocating, and smelled faintly of burnt toast and the sour stench of panic. It was a small apartment, the kind where you could hear your neighbor’s television through the walls and the floorboards groaned under the weight of secrets. I had just walked through the front door, my diploma folder tucked firmly under my arm. It was the only thing I owned that felt like a bridge to a better life. I was twenty-three, officially finished with college, and ready to start the job hunt that would finally pull my family out of this suffocating cycle of poverty.