Book Blurred Lines Novels & Stories

BLAISE It’s cold. I blink, eyelids heavy. The right underside of my neck aches with a dull pain, as if I’d slept on it wrong last night. There are blurs of gold, lines streaking vertically across my vision. I blink again, eyes creasing together. The lines slowly come into focus. At first, I’d thought that I was dreaming.

My reasoning is because I was focusing on finishing off high school, had to deal with graduation and family matters, and most of all I was unmotivated and I have been. Yes, I know it sounds like an excuse but I'd rather write Blinded when I'm motivated rather than write crappy chapters that I don't enjoy writing. So for the month of June, I'm going to take a break from writing, find some sort of motivation, and overall figure out what direction I want Blinded to go. So for right now, it is a goodbye unit next month. Sorry for the delay. -L.N.F

POV: Ava The Duval residence was beautiful in a way that made Ava hate it. Glass walls that looked out across the glittering city skyline, polished marble that reflected the night, chandeliers that sparkled like cages. It was a home, but never hers. It was Clarisse’s trophy case. She sat cross-legged on her bed, sketchbook balanced in her lap. Her pencil moved almost without thought, jagged lines, soft shading, a face half-formed in graphite. Her hand stilled when she realized who she’d drawn.

And here I am, sitting next to Blake, uncovering it all like it’s some twisted game. He closes the file of compromising photos, but my eyes are still glued to the screen, trying to process what I’ve just seen. Then he opens another file, and the images that appear are far more graphic. The man we’ve been watching is in various compromising positions—his body fully exposed, muscles taut, every detail on display. The shots are so raw, so unfiltered, that they make me feel like I’ve walked into something private, something I shouldn’t be seeing.

'What a disturbing drawing,' thought Driz to herself. She heard the boys rustling downstairs as Peter found the bookcase and went skimming through it and she heard him say “Derek, come look at this,” and then heard Derek respond quietly, “What the fuck?” Driz grabbed her candle and the sketchbook and walked downstairs to see what the boys had found, Ana was already with them with a disturbed look on her face. She brought the candle closer to the book that her mother was constantly looking at and no one ever knew what it was, seeing a similar page to the odd markings in her mother’s sketchbook. Driz opened the sketchbook to the page of lines and compared it to the one in Peter’s hand, they we

All I fееl іѕ thе ѕtееl оf hіѕ grір when hе hоldѕ mу wrists together. The drugѕ mаkе things blurry іn my mіnd. Thеу mаkе me rеасt ѕlоwlу. When I trіеd tо fan a ѕріdеr оn thе wall so іt wоuld go аwау, mу hand kерt mіѕѕіng. I wonder if thе ѕріdеr wаѕ rеаl.

I stood in front of my mother, backing toward the bed step by step. Staring at the widening crack in the doorway, sweat covered my forehead as I felt completely helpless without any weapon. Then the door was violently forced open, with the bottom of the wardrobe making a terrible screeching sound like metal on train tracks. A pair of dirty boots stepped into the room. "Did you think blocking the door would save you? I don't have the patience for games." The man smiled crookedly, his disgusting gaze scanning the room. I froze in place, staring at the gleaming knife in his hand, its cold light reflecting off his filthy knuckles.

"Okay, that one is negative. That one only has one line." My shaking fingers reached for the third box—the expensive digital one that didn't make you guess about faint shadows or lines. I lifted it up, my eyes scanning the small electronic screen. The little hourglass symbol had stopped flashing, and in its place, a single word stood out in bold black letters. Negative.

She touched fla‍me to pa‌per. For a second— ‍ nothing. The‍n slo⁠wly— ‍ ‍fir‍e. The edges cur⁠led. W⁠ords‌ d‍is‍ap⁠peared. P‍ages‌ darkened. Conditions va‌n‌ished. Rules burned. Signature⁠s disappeared. Av‌a watched. No sadness‍. N‍o regret. Just peace. Noah watched with huge eyes.

Where that spot was, it was somewhat a sickly shade of the bright colour. "What did it mean?' I asked no one but myself. Zoe wasn't back yet so I was all alone on this piece. Placing all 15 pages side by side I noticed the spaces in the blind spots drew lines. In some pages, a dot and in the others, I saw lines that were either single or the ones that seemed to snake onto the next piece of paper. "Holy..what does all this mean!?"