Books Like Thirteen Reasons Why Novels & Stories

Any sensible person would think they could easily plan something evil. Because of that, I spent most of my time in the library. Sometimes, I was not reading but looking through the vast catalogue and picking out the books that sounded interesting. That afternoon, I had piled up twenty books on the table. I was still looking for more when the door opened and Leilani walked in. It was almost lunch time so I figured she had come to invite me for it. “Hello,” I said. “Hey,” she said, picking up one of the books on the table. It was The Graveyard book by Neil Gaiman. “This looks like a children’s book.”

*** Thirteen Years Ago, Summer Thirteen-year-old Sebastian was watching Sakura from afar, and like always, she was alone with a book. He suspected it must be Shakespeare. She was sitting under the magnolia tree now, reading. Sebastian stayed back, watching her, marveling at the glossy black hair, the porcelain skin, and the ruby lips. Every time he had managed to get close to her, he stared at her eyes, those beautiful eyes that seemed to always pull him into a deep, dark pool of mystery and intrigue.

I had made a list of books I'd be reading during the break. Visiting the library was one of the things I enjoyed during the holiday. It not only enlightened me on things I didn't know, it was my refuge. A quiet, neutral space where I could think clearly. I sighed quietly, pushing back my chair with as little noise as possible, and headed toward the towering shelves. My finger glided along the spines of the books, searching for the title. The Dark Triad: Understanding the Mind of the Manipulative and Ruthless. The title had caught my attention during a lecture, and now, with everything happening in my life, it felt oddly relevant.

Oscar I loved reading Analiese's words. I liked knowing what she was thinking, so that I could think of ways to help her. At first, I felt bad about taking her out so soon and causing her to have a panic attack. Then I realized it needed to be done. We needed to know what would manifest from her trauma. Now we knew that she might panic and have dark thoughts, but she could get through them. And then we would talk through them.

My mother was the grade dean at Westbridge Academy. To prove she would never favor her own daughter, she always used me to set an example. When I scored a 98 on her AP Statistics exam, she displayed my mistake in front of the class to prove she held me to a higher standard. When I picked up a calculator another student had dropped, she gave me a conduct notice. But Olivia, her favorite student aide, could cheat, lie, and break rules, and Mom always found a reason to believe her. Then two students were caught skipping PE to make out in a restricted equipment room behind the gym. I happened to have gone to the bathroom around the same time because my stomach hurt. That was enough for Mom to de

"I'm done with the letter." Chiara nodded her head and continued working on her laptop. Xavier glanced around the room, not sure of what to do. He had checked the laptop for incriminating information, but all he saw was games and songs, there was no file on the laptop and the browser history was clear, absolutely nothing. He stared at the bookcase in the room, it was filled with different business and marketing books, he wondered if she actually read them. A book caught his eyes and he looked closer at it, it was titled 'Expressions and Emotions: How to understand them'. He read the title on the spine again, to be sure he had not imagined it, it was correct. 'Why would she read something lik

Completely unguarded. And that, more than anything else, unsettled him. Because he could feel it. In his chest. That deadly spark again. He scanned the cover, thumb following the title, then back at her. "Why this one?" "It's a book about sadness," she told him quietly. "But not the kind that cries out. The kind that settles into the space between us." Some dark, wordless flicker showed behind his eyes. He nodded once, palming the book into his coat pocket as if it was evidence in a case he wasn't ready to break yet.

There could be a slip up, I might just mistakenly say something I'd rather not say. One more reason why it was a kind of safe space with Kunle and Sophia. We talk about everything and yet, nothing. "Well, All books, all genres except sad fictions. I don't understand why books would have sad endings. Books like All the bright colors, The fault in our stars, We were liars and co. I hate reading those kind of books. I prefer books like Eleanor and Park, Holding up the Universe, A very large expanse of sea. Generally, light novels that'd just make me smile. A sun is also a star, books with breathtaking ending that'd make you feel things."

Cela remains disappointed. "C'mon. It's not like they bought everything. They just thought of giving the books as Christmas presents apart from the corporate giveaways. You must know that your mother enjoyed your first book so much. Too bad that she passed before the second one is out," Nanny Rita continued. "You've always been loyal to her," Cela said.

Rachel nods thoughtfully. “Ah,” she says. “Medical reasons.” “Exactly.” She pushes open the door. She understands. After all, she’s the one who introduced me to the healing power of touching brand-new books. We start in the psychology section, as tradition demands. But we abandon it quickly. The covers are terrible. Way too serious. And most importantly: zero embossed lettering. From there we wander into the self-help aisle. I begin scanning titles desperately, hoping to find something useful.