Face A Book Novels & Stories

I saw the scars surrounding my boutique with 'the scar face' sitting on my counter chair. I looked at them in utter shock. They have actually crossed every limit here. How did they even get in when I clearly remember I locked the door...maybe they broke the lock. My eyes went on the scar face and he was holding one of my books. "A silent storm is stronger than a loud one.......huh?" He asked and looked towards me while tilting his head to the left. "You're a writerrr." He said and I just kept standing there looking at them in shock.

Aaron inquired, and she paused, closed her book, and met his gaze. "It's none of your business!" She snapped at him, but he smiled slightly. "The book is upside down," Aaron pointed out. Alice looked at the book as she opens it and realized her mistake, indicating that she had been pretending to read. She was left momentarily speechless, but she still felt the need to defend herself. She closed the book once again and set it aside. "So what? You don't get to tell me how to handle my book," she retorted, as Aaron gave a small smile.

That awkward chill ran across my spine once more and I knew it was time to leave this room, I didn’t like the way I felt by just breathing in here. I whipped around and I was staring face to face with the mannequin on the desk. But this time it was on its feet, the frown was gone and replaced with a smile, its head was cocked to the side and its eyes pulsed with something that felt so real. My heart snapped in half and I left the book. I began to walk backward, never once taking my eyes off it.

I asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to appear calm despite the turmoil inside. I reminded myself to face my fear head-on. What doesn't kill me makes me stronger. Penny demanded that I hand over my books and do her assignment. I let out a laugh, handing over the book. "I'm not doing your assignment," I said, my voice firm. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly regained composure, her expression unreadable. "How dare you!" Penny snapped, her voice low and menacing. I thrust the book at her, and when she didn't take it, I placed it in her palms. "Rubbish," I muttered under my breath as I turned to walk away, Penny’s mouth agape.

My heart went into a leap whenever I heard his voice, or whenever a smile broke through the constant cloak of scowl on his face. ‘’You need to grow up,’’ he said, raising the book once more to conceal the most of his face. I watched his eyes move across the page, rapidly and intently. It was as though I was not there. I wondered what it would be like if he would look at me just the way he was looking at that book.

So he hastily ran back to the library with a book in his hand and immediately returned it back to the library with his shy face. The library girl was not able to stop smiling at him seeing his cute shy face. After that day he would consider reading the theme and gener line properly before grabbing any book.

He took a long sigh as he whispers "where is the hell is this book? I remembered it was here!" His face turned pale as he started to search for that book again, causing under his breath "Shit! who the hell did take that!". That's when he heard someone coming inside the library. His face hardens in irritation as he walks out of the book racks, thinking it is William and Fedrick, and whispers under his breath in anger "are they still here?!". But he saw another person, who is none other than Kate. Martin's face twisted in anger and irritation,

God knows how long I can keep myself standing here. “It’s just a book, a small, insignificant book.” She states as more and more thoughts of confusion start making their way into my head. What book is she talking about? I train my facial expressions to not give anything but my fear and anxiety away. “It’s called The Ledger, Meera.” My heart shudders at that word. If she knows about its existence. If she knows that the Florence family had something like this— Oh bloody hell. “Wh-what’s that?” I ask, keeping my expressions as confused and annoyed and hurt as possible. Acting like the nimble, humiliated girl that she wants me to be.

When she turned to face us, the breath left my lungs in a sharp, painful gasp. She didn't have a face. Where her features should have been, there was only a smooth, blank sheet of white parchment, save for two dark, horizontal slits where the eyes should be. Behind those slits, I could see the frantic, microscopic movement of thousands of tiny, metal type-set characters, constantly shifting and re-aligning to spell out the words she was about to speak. "The Default is a typo," the Faceless Author said, her parchment skin tightening as the metal letters behind her eyes spelled out her disapproval. "And a typo is simply an asset that hasn't been properly audited."

Nothing was happening, but I could tell I was having a strong conversation with the book. “So, where do I start from?” I said to myself. The book started to flip itself and it stopped at a certain page. I snorted. This was interesting. Now I can talk to books. Great. I glanced at the open page, and my eyes widened. The first thing I saw was the picture of women, white-haired women. A string of headaches pinched my head. Then I remembered the ladies I saw on the day of the moon festival. The women who looked like they were in pain, trying to reach for my hand…they were the exact women in the book.