Bleeding Through The Truth Novels & Stories

On New Year's Eve, Gwen Hurst and I attended a reunion with our old classmates. After several rounds of drinks, someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. Gwen was the first to lose and drew Truth. "What was your biggest regret when it came to love?" She answered without hesitation, but her gaze kept drifting toward her first love, Nikolas Stratton, who was sitting nearby. "My greatest regret was not ending up with the person I loved most. Instead, I married my backup and settled for a life of compromise." The room erupted in shock. Everyone thought I would storm out in anger, but I only smiled and gestured for the game to continue. When it was my turn, the question became, "Have you ev

"Like whom?" "Why is this story in the newspapers at all, Sandra? There are editors at every major news desk who would bin any report, short of the second coming of Jesus, at the mere reference to the Official Secrets Act. One phone call to each paper would have made this entire story disappear, and we should always bear that in mind." "In terms of my knife-wound analogy," I continued, "we must ask Why is there blood here but not there? but also, Why are we finding any blood at all?"

I find the trail of loss, the trail of blood, the trail of pain. I find the trail of paper. I find the trail of betrayal. I find the betrayal of paper. I find the betrayal of everything. The realization is immediate, but not complete, never complete, never complete, never complete. It settles over me, the soft quiet of certainty, the soft quiet of grief, the soft quiet of truth, of truth.

But my legs will not move. My hands lift on their own, trembling, and rest against his forearms, not to push him away. Just to feel something solid. We stand there in the wreckage of everything I built. Every lie stripped bare. Every pretence flayed open. The truth now lies between us, bleeding and unprotected.​

A white rose lay on the floor dripping with blood. A small, shiny blade lay beside it. A beautiful object in such a terrible and painful condition. The blood stain on it did not hide it's immaculate and beautiful nature. She puffed smoke in the air and took a sip of the liquor beside her, as she glared at the bleeding rose with sad and anguish filled eyes, it told a lot about her and her agony. She was as beautiful as the rose in front of her.

“What’s going on? Weren’t they in emergency surgery? Why is everyone just standing here?” “Clara, Martin doesn’t believe me. He thinks I’m faking my injuries.” Tricia leaped into Clara’s arms like she’d found salvation, tears streaming down her face. Clara’s eyes flashed. She stepped between Tricia and Martin and snapped, “Martin! Don’t make a scene. Tricia is pregnant. Why would she fake it? As the man running Black Gold State, don’t you have any judgment left?” Normally, Martin might have backed down when Clara pushed like that. This time, though, he stayed cold and calm, staring at them.

Bubbles of air choked her throat, keeping the whispers back, letting out only a stutter at best. Monica took the King James Version Bible, raised it up with a hand and nervously gulped down, different panic and guilt thoughts raced through her head but she dismissed them - not totally. "I solemnly state I will tell the truth without hiding or adding anything and I should be punished for false testimonies if I lie." Her voice sounded mechanical, like the voice of a person reciting something written. I implore you to say the truth, just this once!

I’ve lost every ally in one brutal stroke. All I have left is the truth. A truth no one will believe. A truth that might get me killed.

He didn't argue, he just nodded once slow. "Yeah, I did." That surprised me.My breath caught."Why?” Truth slips out when least expected A breath came out jagged, as if each syllable had torn at his windpipe on the way up. “Truth is, keeping things hidden feels wrong now.” It's that connection - somehow, it stops me every time. Each attempt ends in flames I laughed, short, bitter. "Good, Let it burn. That day by the hospital bed, your eyes stayed open while hers closed for good.”

Probably from that banquet. Eric had suddenly collapsed without warning. After the doctor rushed over, he removed a thin needle from the back of Eric's neck. That was the first time my sister had ever truly exploded at me. "Ronnie! I gave you that needle two days ago and told you to deliver it to the lab! Don't you dare lie about it!" The needle was a special model. It really had only passed through my hands. I couldn't stand being falsely accused, so I desperately tried to defend myself, but she refused to believe a single word.