Confusing Questions Novels & Stories

The path curved through undergrowth and ended where the soil was disturbed. When I finish, I’m annoyed. “Is there a point to these questions? Some of them don’t even make sense.” He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s an old interrogation tactic. Some of the questions are meant to distract you while the others break the rhythm. It helps me see if there’s anything you’re skipping.” I fold my arms. “And? Did you catch me in a lie?” “No,” he says, leaning back on his stool. His voice is flat, but not unkind. “If it’s any consolation, I think I know all I need to know. Which isn’t much. What you found doesn’t match anything in my records.”

Otherwise they were the same face looking at her from two directions at once. No one had spoken since the door closed behind the final guest. Isabel’s voice, when it came, sounded like it belonged to someone else. “He asked me once, near the end, if I would be all right. I lied.” Nathan’s gaze stayed on her mouth. Cole’s stayed on the place where her pulse moved in her throat. The refrigerator hummed. Outside, wind pushed dead leaves across the porch in dry whispers.

How? I let out a slow breath, the frustration bleeding into it as I realize I’m just going in circles with no direction. I hate not having answers. It bothers me so much and usually drives me to the edge of insanity. My gaze lifts, meeting Gabe’s in the rearview mirror just as he looks up. “You okay?” he asks, his gaze searching mine. I shake my head. “I don’t think so… but I will be once I get some answers.” He nods, but I can see the confusion in his eyes. He can join the club because I’m just as confused about this whole thing as he is.

This afternoon, it seems to have made me quite confused to death. There are several questions in my heart that until now I still can't understand. About how it will be when my memory returns, will the feeling be the same as in general or will everything be normal. Of course, this makes me ask a lot of questions because there will never be anything that could possibly be good when we are still wondering and hoping for something that seems quite confusing. I don't want to get my hopes up too far but after all this is not something that is good for everyone. Because honestly, I don't want to disappoint King Jackob at all.

She swallows thickly, mumbling a timid, “huh?” “How?” He echoes, providing little context with the question, leaving the woman to work it out for herself, her mind taking the word and running with it. How, what? How did they get here? How did this happen? How did she let this happen? What was he asking her about? Accusing her of? She couldn’t work it out, a hundred different scenarios playing in her head and confusing her. Somehow, she was guilty in every single one. She couldn’t pick one, couldn’t settle on which reality they lived in, and so she had to ask. She forces the question out, voice still as weak as ever, her uncertainty very clear. “How... what?”

Anxiety and confusion slice through me as I try to decipher the double meaning behind Carl's words. 'Very unmistakable things'? The fuck does he mean by that? Where exactly is he taking me, and what does he intend to do with me? These conflicting questions swirl through my mind, demanding answers. But if I ask him again, I know he's only going to brush me off or, rather, speak in coded parables only he understands.

“Well, unfortunately for both of us, your answer changes absolutely nothing.” My hand immediately moved toward the mark on my neck. The strange bite pulsed faintly beneath my fingertips. “What exactly is this thing?” Lukas’s expression remained unreadable. “You do not need to worry about that right now.” “That is not an answer.” “It is the only answer you are getting.” Every damned conversation with him somehow left me even more confused than before. “You constantly speak in circles whenever I ask a question, and somehow you still expect me to trust whatever comes out of your mouth.”

“Number three, don’t run away from the hard questions. The prying questions that are absolutely none of their business? Those are the ones that will make the people go feral. And those should he your focus.” “I thought you said I could pick and choose.” Victoria interjected. Derek glared at her like she had personally offended him. “You only get to do that with the trivial questions!” Victoria nodded, which made the lady doing her makeup hiss aggressively. “Don’t move!” Derek continued. “Number four and the last. Keep your answers as ambiguous as possible. When they ask you a question, your answer should also be a question too. Got it?” “Yes.” Derek shook his head. “Horrible. I literally jus

I raised a questioning glare at him and he kept silent, as if contemplating with his next choice of words maybe. " Today, you ran to find me at the pool, what happened?" He asked another entirely different question yet again, ignoring the previous one he had brought up and I furrowed brows in an utterly confused state. What's wrong with him? This was quite creep. "It's because_ it's because" I stuttered, lacking words to describe the truth when he asked yet another question. "Are you pregnant?"

He then made me straddle his lap and gave me his serious face and at this moment I felt embarrassed and ashamed, not because of my sitting position but because now I feel insecure. “You are so fucking weird, this is the second time this happened already and you make me confused as hell? You don’t ask the right questions or at least the ones people in your position should ask. Just like now, you are asking me about what is intriguing about you and not why you see me everywhere. You don’t look stupid, Jemma, but you act like one sometimes, which confuses the hell out of me.” The man said, looking at me, and I just shrugged, then looked away. In all honesty, I’m as confused as him; I don’t have