Eight O'clock In The Morning Short Story Mga Nobela at Kwento

It was eight o clock and I had been staring out of my window for what seems to be an hour now, the pack house had come to life with the silent footsteps of the pack and chatter. At around seven I could hear beds creaking, running water and the pitter-patter of feet below me, by 7:30 I could hear the sounds of silver wear clicking together and the rustling of plates with light conversation. By 8:00 I heard the front door open thrice and the sound of a car driving out of the driveway and by 8:30 Mr. Snowman hadn’t made it out of the house yet. And as the old broken up clock on my wall struck 9:00 I had decided to give up all hope and get some rest. I don’t know why my heart ached, it wasn’t li

Xiao Yu woke up in the morning with slight pain all over her body. First, her mind went blank when she noticed the light in the room. Her eyes instinctively moved to the clock on the wall. It was nine o'clock in the morning. Her eyes opened wide in fear. It was Monday morning. She was supposed to be at work already. She reached for her alarm clock on the bedside table. She hadn't switched off the alarm. Why didn't she hear it? She wanted to get up, even though she knew clearly that she wouldn't make it to work on time.

“I never knew. Will you tell me about some?” She glanced at the clock that read 1:45 a.m. “Only if you agree to go to sleep within the next half hour. You have work tomorrow.” “Deal.” Grandma ended up telling me so many stories. By the time I managed to go to sleep, it was already three a.m. I had set an alarm but somehow, when I woke up, it was already eight. I cursed and started to rush only to realize that everyone, including my father was seated comfortably eating breakfast.

****************************************** The Next Day I open my eyes and see it is already morning. I don't even realize I fall asleep. I take a look at the time and it is 8 in the morning. The kids already off to school and that is mean, I am left alone in this house with the maid. I let out a sigh and get out of the room. "Good morning, sir," The maid greets me. "Everyone left already. Do you want me to make you breakfast?" "Uhm, did my wife here this morning?" I ask her.

Its 2am in the morning and finally he drifted off to slumber unfortunately even in his deep sleep that face he encounter in the bar followed him in his dream. Its 10am in the morning Josh is still sleeping when his doorbel rang. He was annoyed by the non stop sound of the bell and force himself to get out of his bed, making his way to see who's disturbing his morning sleep. His mind went blank when he finally see who's in his door step while wondering why is his mother is so early to come here but somehow his mind snap back and see his mothers questioning look for his reaction. " Are you not letting me in first? Because you look like feeling its still that early for me to barge in your door"

The watchman said. "Oh, what time is it?" Zane said getting up from his chair. "Sir, it's 8:00 in the night, and everyone left the office. I am also leaving." The watchman said. Zane nodded his head. He slept for three hours... Fuck, he then comes out of his office. Zane locked the door the watchman already left him. The office was very quiet, there was no one in the building.

"It's almost eight o'clock! Don't you have to go to college?! Get up quickly, then take a shower and have breakfast!" "At eight o'clock?" The girl who was none other than Henzie was muttering on the bed. Her brain was still processing the words of her mother. Eight o'clock, repeated in her heart, still does not understand. She yawned once more, with her eyes moving, staring at the clock on the wall in her room for a few seconds. "WHAT?! EIGHT HOURS?!" Suddenly her eyes went wide. She was surprised when she realized that the clock had shown 07.55 in the morning. Without further ado, Henzie immediately ran into the bathroom.

The four bullies had been a constant fixture in her nightmares in different forms. Clara looked over at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was three in the morning now. At least she had managed to get a few hours of sleep. She sat up and decided to read a book for a while so she could get tired again and hopefully get to sleep. It had worked for her in her previous life

Eloise jolted upright as if hurled back onto the bed by an unseen force, her heart hammering against her ribs. She gasped, disoriented, the fragments of a nightmare still clinging to her like damp cobwebs. The room was steeped in darkness, broken only by the faint silver glow of moonlight filtering through the perforated wooden wall. Her eyes darted instinctively to the small brass clock hanging there—its hands frozen at exactly three o’clock in the morning.