Beyond Noise And Anger Novels & Stories

The facilitator stood at the center, barefoot, calm. “We’re going to begin now,” she said, her voice low but firm. “Each of you, one by one, will step forward, take a breath, and scream. Scream until it’s out. Your anger. Your grief. The things you never said. The version of you that still aches.” A long silence. “Who would like to go first?”

Scott's Pov* The atmosphere stiffened inside my office" silence fell like a blade" I sat in silence the air turning colder and heavier between us" silent tension rising" I looked at my so called business partner in front of me" my fist clenched in anger I wanted to choke him to death the only thing stopping me was because he was my cousin" but I still couldn't help but wonder how we shared the same blood" he was stupid Scott say something man' your silence is eating me alive" I know I messed up big time this time around" he said standing five feet away from me" afraid I'll pounce on him because of my anger

“What?!” Meera’s voice shot up into a shrill, cracking pitch. She kept demanding that the caller repeat himself, sounding more frantic each time. “You must have the wrong person. Bessie had the second-highest score in her grade! Why would she need to cheat? Oh, I get it! This is a scam. Go to hell!” Her hand was still trembling when she ended the call. Then, she caught the faintly amused look in my eyes. Her body went rigid.

Morvane's voice hardened. "So I became one." --- The vision changed. Morvane stood between two worlds. Older now. Exhausted. The old universe was collapsing. The new universe was forming. People were screaming. Armies were fighting. Every voice demanded the same thing. Choose us. Save us. Protect our world. Morvane pressed his hands against his ears. The memories disappeared. He looked at Liana. "I heard them." "Every person." "Every prayer." "Every scream."

Winter Winter paced back and forth, trying to control the anger building from within. Anger is a tricky emotion that must be repressed thoughtfully. A fire seed of anger can still inflame its surroundings. It starts small and undetected, but if not extinguished at the source, it grows into a flame that destroys everything in its path. I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened. "What the hell were you thinking, Faye? Your stupidity and carelessness could have gotten us killed."

Although I am aware that they still had feelings for one another, they were both being obstinate, harboring resentment, and refusing to acknowledge their own shortcomings. Although it hurts, we have to accept that our baby is gone and won't be returning. I don't blame anyone, and it's not their fault. Noah is receiving help and is aware of how much of a disaster he was. Not only did Ethan and I see each other behind Noah's back, but we also lied about it. We made a mistake. We need to talk it out and forgive one another even though we all have good reasons to be angry and hateful toward one another right now. Piling blame on top of blame and hatred on top of hatred will only make the situati

This laughter of theirs was a strong echo that hit my eardrum hard, and it vibrated heavily inside those tiny lobes of mine. "Just one simple instruction: remain silent, and you defy it." He smirked, his voice laced with anger and disgust. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" I didn't mean to kill a man, but I did. I didn't mean to defy orders, but I did. This has been my curse. A curse I have to bear even in this unknown reality. Their feet dashed against my abdomen, hitting my breasts and tearing my skin. Their hands all charged to my face, making sure every hit left blood gushing out. I've already had enough of all these drills. I'm sorry! "Please! Stop! I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"

It had produced the colder understanding that the family was about to cross a line it could not uncross, and that the line was necessary. “When he is gone,” she said, “the residual noise will continue for a while. People who worked for him will still try to sell what they know. Old routes will still surface. But the center will be empty. That matters.” Luca watched her. “It matters.” She lowered her hands and looked at him across the desk. The anger at his earlier silence still lived in her. It no longer dictated the temperature of every interaction. That shift was not forgiveness. It was adaptation under pressure, and both of them knew it.

“I will not treat the anger as a residual spike requiring immediate neutralization. It is information. It is the cost of the silence made visible and ongoing. I will operate under the term regardless of how long that cost remains measurable in the space between us. The override does not require your emotional temperature to return to the pre-photograph baseline before it becomes valid. It requires consistent application. You are measuring that application. I will not request that the measurement be accelerated for my comfort.” The precision of the response—the refusal to negotiate the anger into a more convenient shape—allowed another fraction of the pressure under my ribs to release. We wal

“I’m sorry, John. It wasn’t until after you left that I realized how cruel I’ve been to you all these years. Please… let’s not fight anymore, okay? I promise I’ll change. For you. “If you don’t like Daniel, I’ll have him transferred to another research group. I won’t have anything to do with him ever again.” I rubbed my temples in exhaustion. “Violet, do you still not get it? Daniel was never the real problem between us. “The truth is, you never loved me. And when someone doesn’t love you, there’ll always be another Daniel.” I paused, then sighed. “But none of that matters anymore. Because I don’t love you either.” She was silent. All I could hear was her shallow, uneven breathing through th