Novel & Cerita Clueless Monologues

I muttered to myself The soft clatter of my heels against the marble staircase echoed through the vast, silent hallway. With each step, my grip on the purse tightened, knuckles turning white. “Everything will be alright,” I muttered again, but the words felt hollow, like a desperate attempt to convince myself of something I didn’t truly believe.

An excited hiss escaped his mouth as he thought about their baby, he didn't notice the incredulous look on Clary face, to busy making eyes at her stomach. "I always wear something nice" Clary grumbled, already going through outfit options in her head. She would start going through her closet the second they home. Her musings were interrupted when Moni Came into the room, rubbing her hands excitedly together, her eyes darting to the machinery next to them. "I don't know if you're more excited to see the baby or get your hands on a new piece of technology," she said, laughing at the mock wounded expression on her face.

A low bench, a full-length mirror, and a single, discreet hook. Clara’s reflection showed wide, dark eyes and cheeks flushed with a mixture of fear and desperate arousal. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. The ordinary sounds of the store, muffled conversations, the soft shush of garment bags, piped-in classical music, seemed to amplify, each one a reminder of the thin barrier between decency and depravity.

She was confused because she didn't know what to think and she was clueless. "Could she be doing something in the bathroom? She's probably taking her bath and I'm here overthinking, well I should go over and see for myself that she's okay. I can't just stand here and jump to the conclusion." Clara said to herself and walked to the bathroom door. She knocked on the door and she didn't hear any response the first time, then she knocked again. "What part of I don't want to speak with you is it that you don't understand? Since she's more important to you, why don't you just go to her and leave me the hell alone!" She yelled at her and screamed at her.

The air hummed with the sound of Clara’s digitized scream—a haunting, melodic frequency that vibrated through the estate’s smart-glass. "Julian..." Clara’s voice didn't come from her lips; it came from the ceiling speakers, the walls, the very air. "I can see the... the ledgers. Julian, the house... it’s full of Unrecorded Debt." "Clara, hold on!" Julian lunged toward her, but Vivienne stepped in his path, the silenced pistol aimed at his throat.

There was a murmur of agreement. “Do you really think I could possibly have a lower opinion of you?” I physically felt Dudley tense up as killing intent bore into the back of my neck. “I don’t mean just Flossie. All of you. And me too — I include myself. We are completely out of our element here. Clueless doesn’t even begin to describe it. But the rules here are so screwed up, stupid could actually be the way to go. Asking a question, no matter how dumb, isn’t going to make things worse.” “You say that,” said Claire, “but you always seem to be handling it. And usually you’re doing something sneaky. And manipulative. And underhanded.”

POV: Zia The silence in Dr. Clue’s office was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic thud-thud of Clayton’s boots as he paced the small square of linoleum. It had been over thirty minutes. Thirty minutes since the doctor had looked at us like he’d seen ghosts, muttered, "I can't believe this," and vanished.

Not unconscious. Don't fall asleep. Rather... connected. With something. Or someone. Then Clara moved her lips. Easy. “The doors are open.” Again the same sentence. Kai seemed cautious. “What doors?” For a moment, Aren believed not to get an answer. Then Clara said. “All.” The answer allowed the cold to become deeper. Because suddenly no one understood whether real doors were talking. Or something else. Memories. Decisions. People. Maybe from everything at the same time. Emil slowly lifted his head.