A Tattered Web Novels & Stories

Why would I want someone that’ll only frustrate me. After twenty five minutes of driving all the way to my office, I finally got there. My secretary, impatiently waiting for me immediately started talking “Good morning sir, we have a problem” she was shivering as she said “And what could be as bad as my mom stressing about marriage, it’s tiring by the way” I scoffed “It’s bad sir” she said again mumbling I stopped, turned and looked at her with a furrowed brow “spit it out you know me better than to keep shut now” I said trying to keep my cool

In hi​s h‌a‌nd was a bott‌le of‍ che‍ap‌ w​ine, already half empty. Her phone lay on the f‍loor close‌ to her feet. Th⁠e scre⁠en was cracke​d‌,​ shattered like a‍ spiderweb‍. S‌he rea⁠c‍hed⁠ f‌o​r it withou‌t th⁠inking, panic guiding her hand—but the rope s‌top‍ped her.⁠ Her chest tightened. “​W​illia‌m…” her voice came out‍ small. “Why… why are you doing thi‍s?”

No matter how he looked at it, they felt more like evidence of abandonment. "No way! She treasures these too much to throw them away!" Frantic, he knocked over the furniture in the room and searched for proof that I hadn't left like mad. Yet, in the end, he collapsed to the floor in exhaustion, eyes burning dry as he murmured my name, "Arynn, are you going to leave me just like that?" When he lifted his head, a flash of white caught his eye. He stumbled forward, and when he saw the ruined wedding gown in the trash can, it felt as if lightning had struck him.

I hope Bash can come up with a damn plan. Matilda finally made it to her exit. As she merged off the expressway, she said, “Hang in there, Gaia. I’ll find you if it’s the last thing I do.” Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes;

Iris's POV: Okay me being me would never want them to spend their money on me and them being them, would fight it off and push that aside saying that I am their responsibility. Let the day begin. I wore a black ripped jeans and topped it off with a white T-shirt with a rainbow on it. Okay I know it is typical. But the boys told me they loved me seeing in the clothes that have rainbows on them. I am named after the goddess of Rainbow.

Cobwebs clung to corners like delicate tapestries, and the air was heavy with the scent of stagnation. Papers and documents, once important, now litter the floor, are yellowed, and are forgotten. Books slumped against each other, their pages dog-eared and worn. The carpet, once plush, was now dull and matted, with the visible footprints of the last person to leave the room, Lana.

I confess. As we walk to the cashier, I'm glad to notice that here is no existing line, because that is literally all I need right now to push me closer to the verge of an upcoming mental breakdown. "Hello, I'm Stacey, what can I get for you today?" The cashier asks, taking our order. She has the brightest smile that is quite ironic for her appearance. Stacey's appearance is one that society would label as a goth. She has lip-, nose- and ear piercings, bright red hair, black eyeliner, finished off with a black matte lip. Her tattoos can be seen poking out from under the neckline of her shirt. Society has boxed people like her into a category that makes us believe that she would be mean, unca

Her face can appear tired at times, but she is usually active and alert. Cobwebs hung haphazardly. The dust was strewn across the floor, which was covered in a drab carpet on a sagging floor. A stray fly buzzed around that was bolted to the ceiling and looked down miserably. A gust of wind caused the open door to squeak as it moved on its rusted hinges. Like a caged bird, a crumbling piece of cloth fluttered through the air. It was a desolate, forlorn structure, devoid of life.

I was already devastated and couldn’t afford any more destruction. My soul and heart had shattered into a million pieces. Like a vase can’t be put together even if all the pieces are glued. The vase still remains unstable and the marks never leave. Just one more crash and no more gluing to put them together either. I continued to cry until, I just couldn’t continue to do so. Despite Gordon hugging me tightly and rubbing soft circles on my back, I wanted to leave. Leave this place, leave the world, forever. I teared myself away from Gordon. A part of me missed his warmth but what had just happened couldn’t be cured by a hug.

But logic was slippery at night. ________________ A few doors down, Alex Knight stared at numbers that refused to be numbers. The spreadsheet on his screen was an ordered grid of projections; in black and white it should have been reassuring. Tonight that grid felt like a smear of meaningless ink. He rubbed tiredly at his face, the three a.m. light throwing shadows across the planes of his jaw.