Bridge To Terabithia Audiobook Novels & Stories

“How cool will that be to have again in town?” “Very cool,” Aislen agreed. “Very, very cool.” “Are you ready?” Talen said quietly to Heath turning up the lights of the 4WD. “Oh shit,” Aislen squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face into Rhett’s shoulder as they began the ascent onto the railway bridge, Talen slowing the 4WD right down. “Sigrid’s vampires were suicidal,” Heath said darkly as Talen straddled the car across the railway tracks and edged it forward. “They crossed the bridge like it was a f-king racetrack.”

The Bridge-Child’s Intervention "Stop it! ALL OF YOU!" Six-year-old Julian stepped forward. His small frame was silhouetted by a halo of silver-gold light that began to melt the asphalt around his sneakers. He looked at the brainwashed pack, his eyes welling with tears that fell as liquid-data. "You're hurting him!" Julian screamed. "You're hurting the Wall!" The man in the trench coat—the Lead-Auditor—smirked, adjusting the dial on his GameBoy. "The Host is sensitive. Increase the 'Dissonance-Frequency.' Let the boy see what happens to 'Glitches' who refuse to be patched."

Libro Vitae whispered its voice harmonious. "Libro Vitae, please show me where Alastair is hiding," I asked. The book hummed in response. Libro Vitae became warm in my hands. The cover opened, pages flipped continuously until they suddenly stopped. The words on the page jumped off the paper, floating into the air, wrapping themselves around me. In a blink of an eye, I was pulled into the book. Light flooded my vision. Every sound echoed around me. Voices raced past me, speaking in riddles. Some shouting, screaming, others a dull whisper. Libro Vitae's voice became louder as I watched the trees form around me.

Yet the pull persists, drawing me forward with the inexorable force of tide against shore. The moment my foot touches the first stone, energy surges through me—not painful but intense, like plunging into water electrified by distant lightning. The runes beneath my feet flare brighter, their light racing ahead across the bridge's surface like ripples in a disturbed pond. The stream below sings, its melody just below the threshold of hearing, more felt than heard.

But this evening was not normal. I was barely five meters away from the bridge when a gust of wind came and it sounded like the wind was whispering my name softly. The closer I got to the other side of the bridge, the louder it seemed to get. But there wasn't much behind it. The end of the town and a road that led through a sparse forest. I stopped right in the middle of the bridge and shook my head in confusion. Am I imagining this again? No, no, I heard it very clearly, someone was whispering over and over: Morgan. Or am I slowly going insane? First the car and now this!

I appreciate that. There’s always a point in the walk when the silence turns itself inside out, and you realize it’s been listening to you the whole time. For me, that point comes on the bridge—Moonstone Bridge, though no one calls it that except people who left town long enough to miss it. I pause at the crest, looking down at the black thread of river. Some nights, when the moon is bright, you can see the current flash with silver, but tonight it’s just matte darkness and the suggestion of movement.

"Finish your purpose." Terren’s body was suddenly jerked upright like a puppet. His eyes turned violet, and he let out a bone-chilling howl—the howl of a wolf whose soul had been replaced by a demon. He lunged at Audrey, his claws extended. "ELARA, GO!" Audrey screamed, throwing the diary toward her. "GET THE BOOK TO THE ALTAR!"

Her breath died completely in her throat. The forest didn't just end. It stopped with precision. Ahead of them the gray ground cut off in a straight line. Beyond that line there was nothing. No sky, no earth, no light. A void. It was the edge of the page. The limit of the world's ledger. Behind them the roaring crunch of the binding machine reached a crescendo. The massive iron vehicle crashed through the line of trees. Its spinning cylinders dripped with black ink. "There's no bridge " Elara whispered. The void reflected in her pupils.

5:45 AM — Sector F, Bridgepoint Echo Span Mist clung to the bridge's foundations, not covering but skimming—like a returned old breath back to its original location. Elira walked lightly over the bridge, where strands of ancient sound loops still coursed rutted in the floor. Every step, if set exactly right, triggered a new echo: a laugh of a child, a name called out in a rollcall of supplies, a soft song humming once through rain.

When I get to the part where Rhys calls Bridget his princess in public but his whore in private, it gave me chills and it also reminded me of last night with Blake. I finished the book I an hour thirty minutes, I read faster when I am not being interrupted and I have nothing else to do, I kept squealing at certain parts of the book and I tried not to be too loud so I would not disturb Blake as he was reading his book, but at a point, he whispered in my ear and he told me I could be as loud as I wanted, and he did not mind, he enjoyed watching me to react to the book.