Bitter Truths Novels & Stories

Too many defensive ornaments around the truth. I pushed a single sheet across the table to him, a routing log, only someone from the inside could easily explain. “Explain this entry then buddy.” His face blanched. Got him. “It wasn't… I d-didn’t m-mean…” He glanced to the others as if looking for salvation but there was none. I saw the fumble, sweat at the lips, a stutter that betrayed him. Because Mike never stutters. He babbles about pressure to pay a debt, threats about a contact who'd promise him to fix everything, something along those lines. The more he spoke the less coherent it became.

Marcus’s POV (Special Chapter) The world is built from pain and the taste of your own blood. That’s a simple truth, one that got carved into me across weeks spent in the dark. But the pain isn’t the worst of it. The worst part is the knowing — that gut-wrenching, bone-deep clarity that hits you once the lies have been peeled back, and there’s nothing left but the rotting truth staring up at you. I had gone chasing ghosts.

On the night before my wedding, the bridal party is too excited to sleep, so someone suggests a game of anonymous confessions. Everyone writes down one thing they want to say to me, the groom-to-be. I eagerly close my eyes, expecting heartfelt wishes and congratulations, but the first note stuns me. "You bastard. If you weren't forcing my sister to marry you, Lyle would be my brother-in-law!" Lyle Thomas is my best friend. Just three hours earlier, he called to apologize, saying a last-minute business trip had come up and he couldn't make it to the wedding. My hands tremble as I continue reading. "That watch she gave you as a wedding present is one Lyle turned down. He said it looked ch

This was all an act, a game we were playing for different reasons. But I couldn’t let him know that. Josh’s father studied me, his sharp gaze piercing into my skin. He was searching for cracks, looking for the moment I’d break. I kept my face still. For a long, unbearable moment, he said nothing. Then— Bang! The sound of his palm slamming against the table sent a jolt through my body. “You’re lying.” His voice was hard, filled with authority. He scoffed and said, “Not only are you poor, but you aren’t truthful as well.”

And If Sanjh is living her normal life then it doesn't matter. ******************************* Some truth is better if that doesn't come out but sometimes this theory is wrong. The truth may be bitter but from sweet harmful lies, bitter truths are better. ************************

, I begged her. She let out a big sigh. "Alright. Now, listen carefully. The truth I'm going to reveal won't be easy at all for you to believe. So, promise me, no matter what I say you'd believe me as I believe you, ok?", She asked. "I promise.”, I replied. "Alright, so listen to me. All the things you said are correct. They aren't normal but if you knew till now it is impossible for a clever student like you to not know the correct answer, right? Of course, you know that you're a vampire.

Instead, I would be a positive force—a warrior with the sword of truth to battle the darkness directly. As I allowed myself to rest at last, I made one final entry on my recorder: "The price of truth is steep, and tonight we paid dearly. But each wound, each moment of fear, is a badge of honor for the strength of secrets that must be told. I will not fail. I will tell all the lies, and the truth will be known.”

It's the ugly and scariest reality. Her chin wobbled as angry tears again threatened to slip from her beautiful eyes. Her eyes seemed running out of tears yet her pain look like not getting a bit less. The more she sheds tears the more unbearable suffocation eating her up. The glassy form over her eyes is not enough to blur the truth from her head for a sec. The lie is beautiful but the truth is bitter. This bitterness is a death to her. She's trying to get a grip on her emotions, she's giving her best to the attempts to not think any of it yet without any effort her mind is recalling certain specific sceneries.

The specific quality of someone giving you the full, unmanaged account of something they did to you. He said: what have you concluded? She said: that the full, unmanaged account is harder to hold than I expected, but not in the way I expected hard. I expected it to be hard in the way that pain is hard — in the way that requires management and processing and deliberate distance. It was not that kind of hard. He said: what kind was it? She thought about how to say it. She said: it was hard the way truth is hard. When it is clean and complete and does not give you anything to push against, nothing to disbelieve or reframe. You cannot use a clean truth for protection. You simply have to receive

The photo is in black and white; the sides and edges faded by time. I swallowed, my throat rejecting the action, sending the food I enjoyed in Zach’s company back up to where it entered my system. My feet moved, heading to the sink as I emptied my stomach. Matt was behind me in seconds, pulling my hair back, drawing circles on my back to soothe the bile I’ve tasted. Just like that, I am sucked in again in this lie I thought I could face with new strength. Just like that, the truth hung above my head again. This is my life, filled with dark secrets and ugly truths. And there’s no escaping it.