All Quiet On The Western Front Novels & Stories

But the truth was that noise was the best companion when the war was over and my parents were unheard at home. "Silence was what I heard before the bloodbath took place in the war," I admitted, and I watched her pause in surprise. "It's hard to explain because a war itself is noisy, but there is a moment when everything goes quiet; not even the animals make noise, and the wind itself decides to make silence to give tension to a moment as raw as a battle is. The energy expended is so much that then everything explodes, and a part of my mind chose to quiet the background noise to understand what was going on around me."

“ Meara!” The whispers started again, soft but notable. I tensed, my eyes snapping open. I scanned the field, but there was no one in sight. The sound seemed to come from the tree itself, from the rustling of its leaves. I pressed my palms against the rough bark and closed my eyes, focusing on the whispers. " Come... find... me..." The words were faint but distinct. My heart raced. Was I losing my mind, or was there something more to these whispers? I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and took a few steps back. The whispers grew louder, more insistent.

Every insecurity I had ever known since meeting Owen came rushing back as the rush of blood drowned out everything except my heart beating loudly in my ears. I watched as Mr. Hanson’s mouth moved and in the recesses of my mind, I could hear the echo of his big, booming voice but couldn’t comprehend a single word he said. Whatever it was, the blond bombshell standing in front of us only had eyes for one person and it wasn’t our history teacher.

She is married and has one child. Her hobbies include kayaking, crafting and of course, writing novels. House of Quiet Screams is her debut novel, loosely based on true events and written to give voice to the silence many carry. Dedications For every woman who was told to stay silent. For those still living in quiet screams—you are not alone. For Daylen Bradley Harbin, My first true miracle— You made me a mother, and in doing so, gave my life deeper meaning. Your light, your spirit, and your love inspire me to be stronger, braver, and better every single day.

And a cold voice whispered from the shadows. “Game over? Not yet.” The door slammed shut behind us. The real fight had just begun. The cold, heavy silence in the room was suffocating. The darkness wasn’t just the absence of light—it was a presence, a suffocating weight pressing down on me and Justin like an invisible hand trying to crush our spirits. To be continued...

His pale, chubby face was covered in tears, looking unbearably pitiful. My mother kept coaxing him, but I was pushed past my limit. "Shut up." The words slipped out before I could stop them, and even I was startled. Ever since I realized I was a character in a novel at age five, I hadn't spoken a word. I didn't want to be a toy for readers' amusement. But Elias was unbearable—noisy as a duck, quacking nonstop in my ear. He'd already done something wrong, and we had forgiven him, yet he kept wailing as if the world was ending. Did he not know how annoying he was?

With his head held high, Alfred retorted, "I know exactly what I'm doing. Let's get one thing straight. I've been fed up with you for ages. For three years, I've been asking for some legitimacy, but you've stubbornly refused, leaving me to be mocked as the gigolo. Who are you trying to fool with your so-called deep love? "You're fond of Nelson, right? Well, today, you're going to watch him get degraded." Alfred seized Jennifer by the hair, his smirk directed at me like a challenge. "Let's get this show on the road." I watched the men charge at me with a cool detachment. Then, suddenly, the sound of gunfire erupted from outside, and one by one, the attackers crumpled to the ground. Alfred's e

LEAH DECKER The first thing I noticed was the silence, everywhere crept to stillness Not the silence of peace. The silence of exhaustion. The silence that comes after thousands of screams have finally died. The silence that followed bloodshed. I sat beside Marten as Tombstone's army began its march back home. Snow drifted across the mountain paths. The full moon still hung overhead, casting pale silver light upon the dead scattered across the battlefield behind us. The war was over. The Five Woodland Packs had fallen.

He was finally afraid. Jolene hadn't come to see him at all over the past few days. He had spent the entire time drowning in anxiety. Fortunately, the bailiffs stopped him before he could get close to me. Jolene was also present. Leon was ultimately found guilty. The recorded audio was played in court and confirmed to be authentic after technical examination. So, the court permitted it as valid evidence. Leon had no strength left to argue. All he could do was beg. He turned toward Jolene. "Jolene, help me."

I couldn’t speak until I was eight years old. Everyone in the Sterling family called me dumb. Even my mother would secretly wipe away tears, convinced she had given birth to an autistic daughter. Whenever my father looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but disappointment. However, for the sake of the family’s reputation, he could never bring himself to send me away to a special education school. Then came the day someone from a prominent hedge fund company arrived to acquire our family company, Sterling Group. He was so arrogant that he chewed out everyone in the boardroom until all of them hung their heads low. The room full of corporate executives fell silent, too terrified to