Bitter Heart Novels & Stories

I could feel myself reliving that moment, muttering the only words that knew my lips that moment, "I'm sorry." My eyes snapped open as I felt warm liquid stain my hands. I was bleeding courtesy of my Hemophilia and hard grip of the sink. I could feel my body shaking as my heart raced. My mind echoed thousands voices all at once and it felt like I was the only one that could hear them. "You're not good enough." "Why can't you be like Oscar." "Is this your idea of an achievement?" His cold eyes burned me with his fiery gaze as his cold voice boomed.

Skylar's POV I felt like I would break apart. I could almost hear my heart shattering into a million pieces. Every possible emotion overwhelmed me, but only one stood out more than the others, Misery. All because today was Monday. The day that leads to a whole week of school. What can I say? I hated waking up so early –for such purpose– with a burning passion. It's not like I got bullied, had to go through mean girls, or had really bad teachers.

“You know that hatred only makes the heart bitter.” “Mirabelle, do you truly think that my heart has not been bitter before. My heart only lives with the worse kind of evil that you can imagine. So feeling hatred towards you, will not make a slight bit of difference. I can hate you for an eternity, long after you have died, and then my dear Mirabelle, I will see you in Hell.”

My heart is still pounding furiously inside my chest with so many confounding emotions making me feel fuzzy and torn apart. But despite my emotions clouding inside my head, one thought stands out. Bitter. A thought so ugly that its presence alone inside my head fills me with so much annoyance and disgust, creating an intense sourness I feel everywhere inside my mouth. A taste that I can’t ignore no matter how hard I try. The taste of the thought is rancid, and I can’t stop myself from saying it out loud. “Kira won’t stop until I’m out of this pack for good. Or worse, dead. She told me herself when I was still locked in that cell that cutting out my tongue would be showing me more than enough

He grimaced at the taste and set the glass down. "Too bitter" he complained, his body shuddering. A chuckle escaped my lips. "You'll get used to it soon. Remember, the more bitter, the more effective" He sighed, then relaxed against the pillow. "You should leave Celine alone now that you have everything, Delia. If you keep so much bitterness In your heart, you'll end up destroying yourself. I want you to let go of all the hate now that she's no longer In our lives"

After that, you got dead drunk and cried the entire way home. [That was when I knew you would never get over her.] [Luckily for you, she came back.] [Ethan, if you two get back together, you’ll restore my faith in love.] I froze. The sweet chocolate in my mouth suddenly tasted bitter. I did not have a sweet tooth, but I specifically loved this brand of chocolate. It was all because Ethan used two pieces of chocolate from this brand to win my heart three years ago. Back then, he was chased out of his house with nothing to his name and struggled to build a company from scratch.

This is the mess it makes of you. I hate it. I hate that I let myself feel anything. I hate that my heart betrayed me. I finish half the bottle in minutes, the warmth of the alcohol numbing me, but it’s not enough. I tip it back, finishing the rest of it, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. A bitter laugh escapes my lips as I realize—I’ve never felt this kind of pain before. I didn’t even know it was possible to hurt this much over someone who never really cared.

The sun was beginning to set, and John stared at the glass in his hand as if he could find some answer there. The disappointment was bitter. More than that: humiliating. The man who orchestrated multimillion-dollar mergers and led business strategies with cold precision had been naive when it came to feelings. He stood up and walked to the window. He looked out at the vast estate with its gardens and the golf course. In the distance, the city lights began to twinkle. And there he was, alone, drowning in feelings he despised: heartache and disappointment. “Love doesn’t exist. There are only interests,” he thought, taking another sip.

" … Edward frowned deeply. When he spoke, it sounded like he was grinding his teeth. "Jasmine, your sister is about to kill herself, and you're still thinking about a handkerchief? "Is romance really that important to you? Important enough to make you this cruel?" The moon hung high in the sky. It was already late at night. Edward turned and stormed off, his sleeve snapping in the wind. I stood alone in the middle of the street, the cold wind making my head spin. However, the colder my heart felt, the tighter I held onto the engagement document.

A life is at stake here! His words left me dumbfounded and hurting, like I had my heart gouged out too. I held Stan's photo tightly against myself, but no matter how hard I gripped it, it wasn't filling the hole in my chest. "A life is at stake?" I laughed wryly, before snapping coldly, "When he just went missing for hours?! My dear Stan had an accident and then got his heart taken away! So I guess some lives are more at stake than the others?!"