Bless The Daughter Raised By A Voice In Her Head Novels & Stories

I stared at the words floating in front of my face. The heat at the back of my neck climbed to my scalp. A person has two kidneys. You can donate one and live. A person has one heart–trade your heart and you die. She wanted my daughter dead. I did not know yet whether the floating text was real or a hallucination. It did not matter. I was not letting my daughter take a scratch. I slammed my palm down on the table and stood up.

Soon she was hauled in between two guards. She saw his face, and her eyes flicked sideways, calculating. She tried to summon a smile. “Caelum? What is it?” He crossed the room. One hand closed around her throat and lifted her off the ground. Her face changed, and she thrashed. “You’ve lost your mind. Let go of me.” He held her there. The words came out of him one at a time. “There never was any curse. You fabricated it. You killed my daughter.”

Cassandra was as addicted to the pleasure and pain of that Voice as she was to the pharmaceuticals coursing through her veins. The Voice was jealous, though. During this time, Cassandra had lucid moments—moments where she feared for her sanity, moments where she tried to tell her daughter about the Voice. The Voice couldn’t have that. The girl had potential. The girl might be a threat. Only Cassandra had found favor, found companionship. The bonds with Cassandra’s daughter had to be broken, had to be destroyed before the Voice lost its future human host. It was the Voice, twisting words from soothing to harsh, that convinced Cassandra to kill her daughter.

"I am my genius father. You are so slender, so elegant. I am so lucky to have a thoughtful father like you. I'm glad you're my father. I'm glad I'm your daughter. I'll kiss you when you come, and it's huge!" He quickly stood up and threw everything on the table to the floor. He still wasn't dead! Again he succumbed to his helplessness! Even when he killed his daughter with his own hands, he had never been this helpless... The fire inside him would not go out no matter what he did. Because he knew that only the last thing called death could put out that fire. Only those who were not helpless would do it. That fire in the helpless would burn until death, and it would burn like hell... Just lik

I was numbed on my seat as I watch the cloth covering her shoulder slowly crampled until it was drenched with blood, my daughter’s blood. “Do it!” A roaring voice echoed inside the room. It was hoarse and whole like to that of a devil. That voice. It was her. “No!” My daughter disagreed bursting into tears. I filnched when a warm liquid splashed all over my face. The next thing I saw was my daughter holding the chef’s wrist and on her hand was the fork bored deep in her throat. My daughter let her go and stared at her trembling hands with disbelief. She didn’t want any of this to happen but her body seemed to have a mind of its own. Someone– no, something controlled her.

The voice in Julie announced without opening her eyes. “Are you here to harm her?” Blake asked, feeling another presence in Julie. “No, but I need a vessel for my resurrection; she was the weakest, and I need her.” The voice said. “I need more energy to become whole.” “My daughter said not to harm you, and I trust her, so I will bring you to a place that will help. Don’t move.” Blake said, and the environment for them changed. The winds within the neighborhood quieted down when they disappeared.

I couldn’t bear seeing my dad ashamed for having a useless daughter, a stained one. “Stop worrying, nothing like that happened” a girly voice sounded in my head. “Who are you? Where are you? Why can't I see you?” I blurted out questions without thinking too much. “First of all Happy Birthday! I have been trying for a while now to make you hear me. I am glad you can right now. To answer your other questions well I am inside your head and let’s say I am your guardian angel.” The voice said, teasing me a little.

“You're not of two personalities you lazy cow, I live inside your head, so don't be surprised I can hear your thoughts.” I tried to speak, tried to ask the questions that were disturbing my mind, but I had no voice. “That little voice in your head, yeah, that's me……you've had me shut out for God knows how long, but I suddenly had the voice to speak and to say the least, I'm fucking disappointed in you Chelsea. This is not the girl your father raised.” I suddenly became still, as if I had been bathed in icy water. This is not the girl your father raised!

“I’m too old to know about these trendy things.” Taylor hesitated a little before pulling out her phone. She tapped on something and passed her phone to me. “Have a look at this.” On her phone screen, Lydia and Ben were crying as they complained. The title was shocking. [An Evil Mother Abandoned Her Own Daughter And Left With All Her Money!] In the video, Lydia was tearing up as she sobbed. “My husband and I feel very pressured at work, and we still have to take care of both of our parents.

“It is a privilege that the daughter of a murderer such as yourself lives underneath my roof, so how dare you bite the hands that feed you?” “Daddy, what are you talking about?” I heard Norah’s voice…Daughter of a murderer? Who? Me?