Books On Floor

Tears were flowing through her cheeks from her blood shot eyes. Sniffing painfully she sat on the edge of bed. Her tears filled eyes were stuck on the shattered photo frame which she throw out of anger and pain. It was their marriage photo frame, the same photo which she used to admire once. But now, the same photo disgusts her whenever she looks at it.It sometimes the things which gives you happiness, the same things can give you pain too. Their whole room is a mess, just like her life. Wiping her tears Koushalya looked at those torn dairy pages along with few photo lying on floor , in which her husband was kissing another women. Love was visible in his eyes, sad thing is the love wasn't for her, it was for another women. Nothing can be more painful then, knowing your loved one loved Someone else more than you. She trusted him wholeheartedly, and now when she found out his secret , he lost the trust which she had on him. Koushalya, blankly stared the floor, her mind was telling her to leave him but her heart was begging her to stay. Somewhere, between her mind and heart she lost herself, her soul. Will she ever able to find her lost soul in that dark world of Sanjiv ? **** Meet Koushalya, Women with passion and broad thinking. Everything was perfect about her until she met Sanjiv, who showed her how does it feels to die slowly without letting anyone know. Somewhere between her husband Sanjiv and the fear of society she lost her own self. Will she find herself again ? -- I, Aarti Shankar welcoming you all in life of koushalya. To know further read the story and leave a review/feedback after reading it.

"You whore!" A masculine voice. "You philanderer!" A feminine voice. "I'll kill you in this house!" He bellowed as he charged straight to the woman and started beating her up. The little boy stood at the door and watched his parents go about their daily routine, tears spilled from his eyes. He stood in the shadows, just watching and crying. If he speaks out loud, they'll remember him and his father will beat him also. No one remembers him. Not unless they want to beat him too. Then he saw the blow, heard the awful sound. The blow that made a difference. The blow that made that day stand out from every other day. His mom stopped screaming, she laid there on the floor, staring into nothingness. Dead. "Gia." His dad paused mid-beating. No answer. "Gianna!" He patted her white arms turned red from being beaten. Terror filled the little boy's system, a sound escaped his mouth, drawing the man's attention. "Oops. I've forgotten about you." He said to the little boy. "Mom's dead..." The little boy said in a tiny voice. The man looked down at the lifeless white woman, "Seems like it." He looked at the boy with an eye filled with menace. "You'll pretend you didn't see a thing. You'll......" The siren rang outside. The police had arrived. A neighbour had alerted them when he heard the noise. He watched as the policemen pointed their guns at his father. He watched as they took his father away. He remained hidden, his blue eyes returning to the woman who laid on the floor, with eyes as blue as his. She was staring right at him. Finally, she sees him. Only in death, did she really see him. Something died in that little boy that day. Replaced with bitterness.

In my past life, I walked away from an invitation to the elite Academy just to take the fall for Luca. He held my hand, swearing he’d get me out. Swearing he’d keep me safe for the rest of my life. Instead, I rotted in a cell until I died. While I was bleeding out on the cold floor, Luca was marrying the Don’s daughter, living the high life. When I opened my eyes, I was back. Luca was sixteen again, face pale as a sheet, shoving a bloody gun into my hands. "Elena, you're a lifesaver." I slapped the piece away. "Dream on. I ain't taking the rap for you this time."

My family has this outdated tradition. On my twenty-second birthday, whoever gets my heirloom bracelet first becomes my wife. For the past eighteen years, my childhood sweetheart, Madison Young, teased that she’d be the one to claim them. However, when I opened the box, the beads snapped and spilled across the floor, right in front of a blind girl passing by, Grace Bellamy. She bent down and picked them up. Madison made a scene, urging me to marry her instead, just to please my father’s illegitimate son, Connor Vaughn. Watching Grace stand there, flustered and surrounded, I stepped forward, shielding her with my body. "Fine," I said. "I’ll marry her."

My stepson pushes me down from the second floor, all because I accidentally break a bowl. He stands over me, looking down with a cold, emotionless gaze. "You're just a stand-in my grandfather forced on us. Don't even think about replacing my mother!" I stare up at the boy I've raised for eight years, and his indifference cuts deeper than any wound. Blood slowly trickles down from my forehead. Fighting through the pain, I dial a number. "Whatever debt I owed has been paid. It's time for me to leave." Coincidentally, I already have the divorce agreement that his father has signed.

Inside the mediation room at the police station, my passenger looked disheveled with messy hair and rumpled clothes. She cried as she complained to the police officer, “Sir, it’s him! The Grab driver had bad intentions! He even tried to harass me! “People like him should be put in jail! And I want compensation for the emotional distress he caused me!” Right after she finished speaking, she slumped down on the floor and threw a tantrum. I could not believe someone could be this shameless. All I did was tell her not to smoke in the car, and she falsely accused me of harassing her. On top of it, I was a woman too! It was just that I usually dressed less femininely. How could I possibly have harassed her?

It all began in London when 4-year-old Claire witnessed a bigger boy getting bullied, "Hey! Let him go or I'll break your legs and give them to Mr Boo!" "Everyone, it's Claire!" One of the boys shouted and they all ran away from her. She had a standing reputation for beating up youngsters, and she was so popular among them. Claire went to the bullied boy, and instead of helping him up, she shook her head at him, "Such a crybaby. My Mr Boo is stronger than you.'' She flaunted her little teddy bear, which she called Mr Boo, in the boy's face and scoffed at him. ''Thank you." The boy appreciated. "It's okay." The boy stood up from the floor and dusted his tux pants, "What's your name?" Claire must return to find her father, so, there was no time to reply to him. She subconsciously dropped Mr Boo as she left. The boy picked up the bear from the floor, and on the teddy, he saw a raised index finger and a raised middle finger, forming a V shape. "Her name must start with a V. Veronica? Victory? Or probably Violent?" He kept on guessing what her name could be with a smile on his face. .... That marked the first time Claire met her anonymous admiral. She forgot about him, but did he? What would happen when he suddenly appeared before Claire in a totally different identity? What happened when he had grown so much that he couldn't love Claire purely, but was obsessed with her after watching her grow? How much would Claire take when she had to babysit him because she liked her men cute and shy, and he made himself a handful of those? Find out and there are a lot more to uncover....

He starts nibbling on my chest and starts pulling off my bra away from my chest. I couldn’t take it anymore, I push him away hard and scream loudly and fall off the couch and try to find my way towards the door. He laughs in a childlike manner and jumps on top of me and bites down on my shoulder blade. “Ahhh!! What are you doing! Get off me!!” I scream clawing on the wooden floor trying to get away from him.He sinks his teeth in me deeper and presses me down on the floor with all his body weight. Tears stream down my face while I groan in the excruciating pain that he is giving me. “Please I beg you, please stop.” I whisper closing my eyes slowly, stopping my struggle against him.He slowly lets me go and gets off me and sits in front of me. I close my eyes and feel his fingers dancing on my spine; he keeps running them back and forth humming a soft tune with his mouth. “What is your name pretty girl?” He slowly bounces his fingers on the soft skin of my thigh. “Isabelle.” I whisper softly.“I’m Daniel; I just wanted to play with you. Why would you hurt me, Isabelle?” He whispers my name coming closer to my ear.I could feel his hot breathe against my neck. A shiver runs down my spine when I feel him kiss my cheek and start to go down to my jaw while leaving small trails of wet kisses. “Please stop it; this is not playing, please.” I hold in my cries and try to push myself away from him.

My dad was a zombie. My mom? Even scarier. She was an uber-powerful mutant. At the crack of dawn, she was already yelling, "Derick Olson! Don't make me come over there! What kind of zombie are you? Glued to your headphones all day—are those audiobooks really that captivating?" I rolled over in bed and promptly fell right off. Scrambling to my feet, I started tidying up my room in a flash, terrified she might actually make good on her threat. "Look at Mr. Hoffman next door," she hollered. "He roams the streets day and night, probably gobbled up more brains than you've read books!"

Since young, Dione Amaris has always been fascinated by supernatural creatures; vampires, fairies, werewolves and many more. Her mother always read her stories about them. Until she turn to a fully grown woman, she has collected a lot of books about them and would still read them time to time and after she ends reading a book, she can’t help but think if they really exist. But what if… they really do exist? And one of its kind has been by her side all along? And she, herself has a blood of the creature she's been fascinated at? Will it be a start to a something new to her life? Or… it'll start a havoc in her life?