A Thorn That Pierces Me Novels & Stories

I hate early morning alarms! Especially the 5 O'clock ones I set for myself so I can wake up on time for school. They always ring every time I'm just getting very snuggly under my bedcovers and enjoying the second round of tranquil sleep. It doesn't help that I always read a book when I'm supposed to be in bed. Yeah, I'm a nerd and I know it. I bet you are too, ha ha.

She mistook her reliance on him for love. This time, as Luke watched Holly walk away, he did not have the guts to follow her. That was because Luke had to face the truth. The deep love he thought Holly had for him was just a figment of his imagination. Luke could not handle the agony. He lost it. He howled like a wild animal, yanked his hair, and slammed his head against the wall. Bystanders threw him weird looks. Luke was busy being in his own world of pain to care.

Then the thorn cut me, and the illusion shattered. "Damn you !" I called out. With anger and determination, I ran towards the clump of thorns, trying to squeeze my way through, to go back out. I don't want to do this, I don't want to be here. The thorns cut through my skin, the cut burning as hot silver seared into my veins. I hissed but didn't stop. I pushed through, feeling the vines tighten around me, squeezing me. I grabbed a fist full of vines and pulled angrily. My entire body was on fire, screaming at me to stop but I couldn't. The stench of blood mixed with burning flesh and flower filled the tight space, making my throat tighten.

He asked, pulling me into him as if he could see easily through the chaos. Thorne groaned and a fire ignited in his palm — hellfire. It cut through the shadows revealing his face and body to me. I winced at the blood coating his flesh but couldn't see any visible wounds, "What the hell is happening there?" "It's bloody murder and I'm not sure when she'll run out of power," Thorne grunted as he pressed his fire into the shield causing it to instantly shatter, "I heal fast, though. She's going to have to do a lot more than shoot spikes made of water and wood at me to do actual damage."

I gasped as the thorn pierced deep into my hand. Blood spurted, dripping down my wrist. I pulled, but it was as though the thorn had grown into my flesh, embedding itself deeper the more I tried. Pain shot through my arm until my vision blurred. Suddenly, I heard a voice. It was too raw, harsh. It shook the mountain itself. “Who dares?” My heart racing as I turned, trying to see who had spoken, but before I could, something struck me hard across the back. My body flew.

I carried them without complaint, but tonight the burden pressed differently, almost suffocating. I brushed my hand against the rough stone wall as I walked, grounding myself. It wasn’t until I strayed closer to the frost-laced hedges that I felt the sting. A thorn, hidden beneath the snow, bit into the back of my hand. I hissed, jerking away, but too late—the sharp sting tore skin, and crimson spilled freely, dripping fat drops onto the snow. “Bloody hell!” I growled, clutching the wound. The sting was actually nothing, just that I got surprised.. but the blood—it fell too freely, splattering against white like roses blooming in winter. “A mere thorn and I am now dripping blood again…”

I dreamed of thorns. They surrounded me on all sides, thick and twisted, reaching out like hands. The thorns were black and sharp, taller than trees. They pressed closer and closer until I couldn't move. Then something grabbed me from behind. A force I couldn't see. It dragged me forward through the thorns. They tore at my skin, my clothes, my hair. I screamed but no sound came out. The thorns cut deeper and deeper. I felt my blood running down my arms, my legs, my face. But the force kept pulling me through.

my foot got stuck and when I look down I found out that I step on a thorn. I almost cried out with pain as it was so stuck in, I tried to remove it for it was so painful, I don't know where I am so I cut out the piece of clothes from my white sleeve shirt, I removed the thorn despite the pain, I once had the thought that this place is just a dream but how can the wound I sustained in a dream hurt this much. Right now I had no wish to return to my place, I regret touching that bead. I sat down with my back to a tall tree, I closed my eyes maybe I might see myself back at home.

It sat in my hands and breathed its fast breath and looked at me with the still dark eye. Getting out was harder than getting in. This was the thing about thorns, the curve of them, they let you go one direction and had opinions about the other. My hands were bleeding before I was halfway out. Small cuts, the kind that stung rather than hurt, multiple of them across my palms and the backs of my hands. I got out.

He hummed at the touch and flipped me over. "Was last night not enough for you." He smirked. "I will never get enough of you Mr. Thorn." I saw a flash in his eyes. I had forgotten how much he loved me calling him that. With a swift move his hand was between my legs tracing circles on my most sensitive spot. I threw my head back into the pillow moaning. I couldn't take it any longer, I pushed him off me and tossed him to the side. I straddled him and hovered myself over his erection. I rubbed myself up and down him.