Cry Of The Unheard Novels & Stories

I am afraid… …In the distance, I hear a man. He is crying, roaring in pain. I move toward the sound, but he is locked behind a wall of solid stone. Placing my hands and face against the stone I cry with him, even though I do not know why he weeps. “Let me in,” I beg, pounding on the wall. “Why won’t you let me in?” He replies not with words, but with the mournful cry of heartbreak…

The warmth was barely there. But it was there. Her hand trembled. She cried. Not from grief. From remembering. The tear fell on the flower. The petal opened further. The scent strengthened. The warmth grew. The light flickered. Her cry was small. But it was remembering. It was feeling. It was choosing. The cry spread. Through the ruins. Through the bare ground. Through the broken oak. Through every reality. Some heard it and remembered. Some heard it and felt. Some heard it and chose.

I tried to explain, but no one believed me. "It's no wonder the orphanage director said you had a bad attitude. You're beyond hope, Frida!" Harvey scolded. "Calla and I were the only ones behind you earlier. What? Are you going to say we pushed you?" He looked at me with disgust as if I were something vile, then grabbed me by the arm and threw me to the floor. My knee hit the ground hard, and the pain twisted my face into a mask of agony. It made my already pitiful appearance even more pathetic. The stares from everyone around felt like daggers, but the one that cut the deepest came from my family.

even the last few seconds. I looked to where the coffin was, closed and with a large wreath of white roses on top of it. Ada was looking at him between painful sobs, now without her husband and only son. Next to her, Celina, who arrived in the middle of the procession, held by Gregório and devastated to the point that everyone noticed — to the point that many still judge her for her pain to someone who doesn't even know what she did to her. Celina and Ada joined in the final seconds of the prayer, both crying as the coffin began to descend... increasingly disappearing.

I bent on my knees and cried hard to spare myself from his hatred but it did not work. "I did everything for you but you disappoint me in return," his tone was broken and it pained me exceedingly. I felt like I was stabbed by a knife that was sharp and couldn't recover anymore. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted at the rant of my father on my decision to marry the son of the people who persecuted him in the past. "Daddy I'm so so so sorry," I was sobbing badly pleading for him to understand me. "Kelsie! wake up!" I felt I was shaken hardly by someone. "Open your eyes!" another one ordered and I slowly did. "You're having a nightmare," Hailey pulled me to sit while Aira patted my back a

Winter snapped almost causing my left ear to go deaf. “I’m sorry sir” he said softly with his head faced down. “YOU ARE A DISAPPOINTMENT NOTHING MORE!” he yelled. “I wonder how Mr. Haze would think if he saw you right now.” I felt something wetting my hand as I slowly took a glance at my hand which was on the table just beneath Sorrows head. Tears had covered it and I knew they came from Sorrow. “Everyone you can go home” Mr. Winter quickly said. We all started packing our books and heading out.

“I guess the story has its ending now. Thank you so much for calling me and see you soon. Good night.” “Goodnight Lou” When I heard his last answer, I hang up the call and wiped the tears on my face. There is nothing bad at crying. Just let it fall and everything will be all right after. There are things we can’t have because God plans something better for us. The pains we have felt can teach us lessons. Good things come to those who wait on the perfect place and timing with the perfect person. Tears can be teachers if we let them. The hidden truth isn’t hidden anymore and for the last chance, someone dares to listen to my Unheard Feelings… The End.

It was as if she were being crucified and stoned at the same time. I felt her pain in every single note, sending shivers down my spine. It was as if she were screaming at me, pleading for me to exchange her suffering. At first, I heard muffled noises—like crispy dry leaves being moved and gathered. Confused, terrified, and breathless, I tried to observe the situation. But then, making my soul freeze, they came. Those noises. Yelping. Shouting. "Burn this witch! Burn this witch!" The voices were full of hatred, rage, and undeniable cruelty. As if they were witnessing the darkest part of their history.

not wanting to miss any sound from the recording. A deep wail sounds again,a woman wailing and begging for Mercy.before she abruptly stops, then sound of like flesh being torn sounds in my ears, followed by a long wail,a sound of skin slapping skin against skin,or palm slapping against flesh,I cannot know for certain what it is.

It was pitch-black... As if her vision were completely gone. It was cold... Like she was bathed in a tub full of ice. She can't feel anything... As if her limbs were tied and paralyze. She can't speak... As if her mouth was shut. She can't hear anything,... Than the cry of countless people in agony and despair that echoes in her ears. It was so loud and ear-piercing, that almost makes her deaf. It hurts... It's painful...