A Perfectly Messed-up Story Novels & Stories

“We use a weed.” “A what?” Sela asked. “A story,” Leo said, looking at her Loom. “But not a big one. A small one. A simple, messy, imperfect story. We don’t attack the Perfect Note. We just… drop a seed. And see if it grows.” That night, under the motionless stars, they didn't sleep. They planned. The Perfect Note was a shield against complexity, but it was also a cage. And every cage has a key. The key was a boy who still knew how to be curious. And the key to reaching him was a story he wouldn't be able to forget.

Stolen moments with my husband. Imperfect. Messy. Exhausting. And absolutely perfect exactly as it was.

I let out a thankful sigh and grabbed it, opening it to retrieve my phone. I unlocked it to see over eighty-eight missed calls, voice mails and almost a thousand messages from Maya. “Oh my God,” I murmured, brushing my hair away from my face. I didn't know what to do for a second, confusion dwelling within me. I found my heels by the bedside and grabbed it, hurrying towards the door but stopped dead in my tracks when I caught a reflection on myself on the floor-to-ceiling mirror. I looked like a total mess, my hair everywhere and my eyes red and swollen with my dress way too indecent and inappropriate to even be regarded as a dress.

Lena took another look around the warehouse. Then— Boom. Flames roared to life, turning Kane’s empire into a burning graveyard. Evelyn grinned. “That should get his attention.” Lena’s phone buzzed. A new message. Unknown Number: “You just made the biggest mistake of your life.” Lena smirked. “We’ll see about that.” The War Was No Longer Silent.

The memory brought with it a pang of such acute, pointless longing that he dropped his data-slate. The flaw had been introduced. The perfect, sterile story of the Editors had been infected with a single, illogical, human detail. Back in the garden, the wave had departed. The bronze tree and the silver tree stood silent once more. Their work, for now, was done. They had released a new force into the universe, a gentle anarchism of the spirit. The Grand Curator looked out over his perfect city, his perfect life. Everything was in its place. Every story was complete.

I fell on my knees and when I looked up, the snatcher’s already running fast and there’s no way I could have my bag back. “Shit!” I helped myself to sit on the ground. “Ouch!” I grimaced as I felt the pain on my knees. And when I looked at them, there were scratches on each part and they were red. I grunted in frustration. “Just why do I have this fucked up day?! Is my life not fucked up enough?!” I shouted, looking up, blaming the one up there for having this messed up life. People saw me and they had this pitiful look for me. Yeah right, I do look pitiful right now.

And the silence hurts worse than anything. End of story 3

Text message. "Clever. Very clever. You hid Emma where I couldn't find her. You set traps inside traps. You outthought me for once. I'm impressed. But Bethany, this doesn't change anything. I'll find her eventually. I have time. I have patience. I have resources. You had one chance to catch me and you missed. Now I go underground. Deep underground. And when I resurface, years from now when you're comfortable and complacent, that's when I'll take her. That's when I'll hurt everyone you love. You haven't won. You've just delayed the inevitable. Sleep well. -JP"

However, Claire suddenly widened her eyes and pointed at the woman assaulting me on screen, shouting, "Honey, I know who that person is now! It's not me!" She looked at me with loving eyes and said, "Honey, there's actually something I've never told you. Ever since my legs were paralyzed, my mental health has been unstable. I often dream that I can stand up, only to wake up and realize I'm still disabled. Later, I became so disoriented that I couldn't tell reality from dreams anymore." She continued, "I've seen a doctor about it, and she can testify for me! I must have been in a dissociative state, so I manifested a second personality. She's the one who hurt you, not me!"

“It is not okay that you suffer for my mistakes. You are all perfect, and I am all a mess. And now, you are caught up in all this.” She chuckled. "Am Iperfect?” she implored, differing from his statement, “May I remind you that I was the disgrace of my family? That is why they did not think even for a second before trading me away the first chance they got? May I also remind you why I had to be locked up like a bad omen in my own home? It was because of my sins? I slept around, got pregnant, and got dumb, like, nadah! And lastly, may I also remind you that the reason we are now in this mess is because my sister told the world about it? Now, Mr. Adam, tell me where perfection is in all that.”