Beyond The Mask Book Novels & Stories

All three of them slipped on carnival like face masks, the very colorful ones with even more colorful feathers at the end. “What is going on?” I ask, this time looking from person to person. “Want to find out?” Abed asks from behind the mask, he blinked at me through the eye hole, I stared at him, even with the mask, he was as beautiful as they came. I swallow, and nod. Abed stretched out his hand, in it was another mask, staring at it for a second longer, I take it, turning it over in my hands, I notice it is not the disposable type, and it had the word SUNFLOWER engraved on it.

I would have to go unnoticed. With a heavy sigh, I pushed the covers off and sat up, reaching for the bag. I pulled out the invitation card and looked at it. As I traced the letters with my finger, something else tumbled out of the bag—a mask. I blinked, stunned at what just happened. It was a lovely mask that only covered the eyes, black with silver embroidery. Its edges were lined with tiny, sparkling beads. And then, another surprise: a dress, folded neatly at the bottom of the bag. How had I not seen it before?

The Masquerade mask was Harriet's special mask, a white snake mask with one eye hole on the right side. "Actually, this is my mother's mask," said Harriet quietly. She then smiled and held up another mask box. Harriet showed it to Liam who was still furrowing his brows at her previous words and opened the box. Another white mask appeared in their vision. It was a white wolf mask with golden stripes around its eyes. Harriet smiled proudly showing the mask design. It was the one she ordered yesterday, which turned out to be perfect and ready at just the right time. "This is for me?" Liam asked.

she grumbled. When the patient, nerves already frayed, heard the word "mother" again, he quieted suddenly. He gave a despairing smile and sprinted toward the edge of the roof. The crowd began murmuring again. "How could she mention his mother? She should know that the patient's issues stem from his mother. How could she not know that?" "Shit! He's going to jump—" Then, their voices shifted to gasps of amazement. "Dr. Seville was so brave! Oh, my god!"

I do not want to lose my only family. Kinuha ni Nanay ang pot holder na nakalapag sa isang mesa bago buksan ang bagong lutong pagkain. The smoke from the newly stewed pork mounted and spreading on to the high ceiling. Iwinasiwas ko ang kamay para alisin ang usok na tumatakip sa paningin. Nanay was wearing a mask to keep herself from being exposed in too much smoke.

"I’ll come back. When I can stand beside you without hiding. When I can look you in the eye and know that what we have is real." "And until then, I’m supposed to pretend you didn’t mean anything to me?" She smiled sadly. "No. Just remember me kindly. That’s all I ask." They stood in silence, the garden swaying softly around them. "You know," Ethan said finally, trying to lighten the mood, "I always wondered if the mask was hiding some hideous deformity or if you were just trying to look mysterious." She laughed through her tears. "Maybe both. I do have a slightly crooked nose."

"I hope you get that in your head too." Before I could speak up, the teacher walked into the class, making me suppress my emotions. With a heavy heart, I opened my note book and tried to ignore the fact that Sean's next to me. If he thinks he is the only one that can mask their pain, then he's wrong. Two can play this game. ****

As I told him everything, he grew tense and took out all the weapons. "I have a bad feeling they're probably after us," he said. "No matter what, we need to leave as soon as possible. Our teacher said he'll handle everything—clean identities, a safe return, and a place where we can stay hidden while continuing our work. But you need to understand what that means. You'll never be able to live as your original self again." "It doesn't matter. A name is just a label. I only want to live openly under the sun someday."

I hated the lights, the glass, and the very idea that people could stroll into this store casually and walk out with clothes worth more than what my mother’s surgery would cost. My world wasn’t silk. My world was peeling paint and whispers in the dark. It was instant noodles, thrift-store coats, my brother’s laughter, my glass, my tears, and my mother’s cough echoing in the night. Then my phone buzzed. I pulled it out, careful not to drop it in a puddle. The cracked screen lit up with a message from my landlord: Rent due tomorrow, and no excuses this time. The words were blunt, but their weight crushed me.

I moved closer, each step careful, deliberate. The doorbell didn’t ring. No knock. Just silence. But when I opened the door, the night air swept in cold and heavy. And there, on the mat, lay a small black box. My hands trembled as I picked it up and lifted the lid. Inside — my necklace. Clean. Untouched. And beneath it, a note written in the kind of handwriting that smiled while it warned: Masks aren’t meant to hide, Mariam. They’re meant to reveal.