Framed Novels & Stories

The judge slammed his gavel. "Order in the court. Defense counsel, you may continue presenting the evidence." It was footage from a home security camera, and it clearly showed Jessica crushing sleeping pills before pouring them into the chicken soup. Upon seeing the video, Jessica turned pale. Her makeup started to run from the sweat pouring down her face.

Pain shot through my body, and I trembled all over. Mom hissed, "Are you going or not?!" Eventually, I dragged my bruised arm, tears still streaming down my face, and found that boy. On the screen, every hesitant word and every pained expression on my face was magnified. There was no smugness of someone spreading rumors, only the fear and struggle of a seven-year-old being forced to do something wrong. At the end, Mom stood outside the window. She watched Grace's lonely figure walking alone and smiled with satisfaction.

He took every bank card from his pocket, along with his car keys and villa keys. The host only shook his head. "Not enough." Laughter rose from the audience. Julian clenched his fists, his eyes red. The host smiled meaningfully and turned everyone's attention to a ring nearby. "One fight for one photo works too." Julian did not hesitate. He tore open his shirt and stepped into the ring. His opponents were all professional boxers. Within a few exchanges, he was beaten until his face was covered in blood. But Julian still got up. He was knocked down, then got up again.

At the start of graduation season, my boyfriend took more than two hundred photos of Madison Vale. Chase Whitman was president of Westbridge University’s photography club. He knew how to find flattering light and how to coax people out of stiff smiles. Madison stood beneath the maples outside the library in a white dress, her graduation cap tucked under one arm. “Am I taking up too much of your time?” she asked. Chase checked the last few shots and smiled. “You make my job easy.” When it was finally my turn, he barely looked at me. “Stand by the tree.” He clicked the shutter twice and lowered the camera. “Done.” I stared at him. “That’s it?” He turned the screen toward me. In one photo my ey

The room has changed a lot, nothing was as same as it should've been. I was looking at those walls and tables, where once our photo frames used to be where we used to keep our memories. But now there were none. 'Look at this.' She said and I looked at her. Then on the photo frame, she was holding. 'Look at this, now you get it. You're dead for him.' She said. The photo frame contained him sitting beside the grave on which my name was engraved. He had a blank expression on his face.

She said. “I got them from Nigeria” I replied “They are beautiful; Thank you very much” “You are welcome “I have never seen frames like this, they are unique” she observed “Now I really feel bad that I didn’t get you anything” “We can fix that, Hangout with me again tomorrow” I suggested “Asshole” she hissed Aaliyah’s gift choice wasn’t so bad after all so I owed her one. Nahlela disappeared into her room and came out with a bag which could pass as a handbag and a mini travelling bag. I wanted to remind her that we were going to the pool

Frederick suck noisily on the straw of the milkshake drink we got. With a loud bang on the table, which attract the attention of other customers to our table. Wilson tries to stop the noise Frederick is making with the straw, Who turned blind eyes to irritation on Wilson face and deaf ears to the loud bang on the table. Reaching his hand to the cup with Frederick, Wilson took it and smashed the remaining milkshake on the floor. Gasps from other tables filled the cafe, I try not to growl at them as their constant stares start to get me agitated. A waiter comes quickly to clean up the mess made by Wilson while another came with another milkshake to give to Frederick.

words. "STFU and jut look for him. Am not gonna do anything. Just incase he'll do something unpleasant, I'm ready." I replied back as I clicked my tongue. "Ok. Gotta send the details from you later." "Sure, thanks." Allen sighed as he leaned on his chair. He had no choice but to film all by himself today. Good thing he still have his own camera and the next thing he'll do is to play with himself. He removed his neck tie and change into one of the simpler polo shirt on his closet and wear his signature mask, colored in pure dusk of gold that has lion fangs right below the edge on each side with a chain attached on the ear as he fixed himself on the chair.

Next to the door stood an old vanity with a light bulb framed mirror. The top of the vanity was covered with containers of grease paint, cotton balls, sponges and brushes, and some plastic jars of pinkish goo labeled mortician’s wax. Tucked into the mirror frame were a handful of square Polaroid pictures. All of them were James from the shoulders up and each in some variation of theatrical makeup. In one, his full face was painted to look like a grinning skull. One had him completely covered in rotting bandages with moldering flesh poking through. In another he was covered in blood and looked like his throat had been slit from ear to ear. They were all pretty

That was the first bite of the sweet forbidden fruit. ***End of flashback*** Frank was working out in the gym room. Uptown hip hop music was blasting the speakers as he ran on the treadmill occasionally stopping to break dance. He had a cap, bare-chested showing his athletic physique, grey sweat pants and a pair of white sneakers on his feet. The wall was decorated by mirrors on one side, the other was graffiti and art and a huge portrait of his mother on the wall. "You want to join me wade? Cut some weight"