Anything But Clothes Novels & Stories

This would go from pleasurable to painful lightening fast. “Shh… I’m looking. What do you think? I think this would look good.” A picture of a yellow dress was on his screen. She recognized the price on the screen, but not much else. He was shopping for clothing. Now he confused her. Was he teasing her? Showing her this pretty dress. What was the catch? “Yes, this dress is a good start. Tops, pants, shoes, boots, we’ll get a little of everything to tide you over until you can bring the rest of your clothing.” It didn’t register what he said for a moment. “I did bring everything and don’t need much.”

There's a sudden invasion of sanity from the simple contact of our skin, as if another dimension would unexpectedly open up. It's like, all of a sudden, a zillion volts of electricity would flow through my entire body. As much as possible, I don't want to feel or experience that anymore. Cara took me around the whole place, but I still don't know what's going on. In the last room we went to, I was very dumbfounded. All kinds of clothes are displayed, from business attire and formal and casual wear to lingerie and even sportswear. Name it. "Do you like it?" Enthusiastically, she asked while my eyes were preoccupied for a moment, scrutinizing everything.

I sniffed, trying to keep my eyes centered on his face. Mini Mart didn’t exactly have a wide selection of clothing, and most of it was that touristy type crap. I snickered and giggled when Kade was left with nothing but a tie-die sweat shirt two sizes too small. My giggles were replaced with quick looks of surprise and hunger.

"No clothes." He smiled, gazing down at my camisole, now fully revealed. "I beg to differ," he said calmly. "You lose. This bed is mine." "Ah—no," I retorted triumphantly, shaking my head. "I'm not wearing clothes. This is underwear!" "Underwear?" He gave a snort of laughter. "Since when is underwear not clothes?" "Oh no, no, no... Technically, underwear isn't clothes." Drew grinned. "You're callingme on a technicality?"

She was probably wishing she had a mommy too. "Do you see something else? They're wearing worn out dresses, he and his mother. They don't even have a proper winter clothes." Hayley didn't seem to have noticed that at first. She took her time to observe them, and I watched her jaw drop sadly. "People in cartoon don't wear torn dresses, why are they wearing torn dresses?" "Because this isn't cartoon, Hayley. This is real life. And in real life, people don't always get anything they want."

I brush my teeth twice, trying to remove it, but it lingers like a memory I can't quite shake. Clean and marginally more alert, I face the wardrobe that mysteriously knows my size and style preferences. The "magic wardrobe," as I've mentally dubbed it, has been replenishing itself daily since my arrival. Each morning, fresh clothes appear—all perfectly tailored, all in colors that complement my complexion and heterochromatic eyes. It's thoughtful, intrusive, and more than a little suspicious.

“WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!” “Whatever do you mean, brother? How would I know? Aren’t those shirts right there?” She said, pointing at the open luggage and feigning innocence. The shirts are in neon colors: pink, green, orange, and yellow. Jude picks up one of the shirts, and the logo reads, ‘GIRLS WANNA HAVE FUN!’ Then he picks up another one, and it has a teddy bear riding a unicorn. Not to mention, they all look a size too small.

Instead of approaching, she simply waves politely before continuing to organize another display. I silently thank her. I'm not ready for help yet. Not until I figure out what I'm even looking for. The first few racks don't help. Everything has flowers. Or lace. Or inspirational sayings across the front. Mommy's Little Miracle. Blessed Mama. Love Grows Here. I cringe. "No." "No." "Absolutely not." Raven is laughing so hard she's practically leaning against another clothing rack. "You are unbelievable." "I just want normal clothes."

“What are you doing making such a fuss at this hour?” Brett was completely lost in his world and pretended not to hear Phillip. That was until he suddenly remembered the cryptic statement Phillip had made about Claudia’s last meeting at the cemetery. As if he suddenly caught a lifeline, he ran up to Phillip. “Grandpa, where is Claudia? Why are all of her belongings gone?” he asked in a trembling voice. “Claudia left this morning and she either threw away her belongings or took them with her. Didn’t you see her cleaning out her room?" Phillip cast a puzzled look at him and seemed confused by Brett’s reaction.

"You don't have to." "I'll feel obligated and you will never let me forget about it." Olivia chucked, "Well, you haver a good point." I snickered. I changed into a more casual clothing since I didn't bring many clothes. I wore a white shirt and paired them with some sweat shorts. After a while, I opened the door and she said, "Okay, shall we start?" "Start what?" "Ghost hunting." Olivia stated with a sheepish smile, "You in?"