Going Home Novel Novels & Stories

First of all, I need to find a place to sleep, which should be easy enough I've slept under a dark blue star filled roof morr than once, a job to get some money and then I can head to the salon to fix my hair. -- My heart hammers in my chest as I get on the next bus. Two more hours and then I'll be back home. Home. I shouldn't think of it like that anymore but no other place has ever felt so much like this. They say home is where your heart is and I left mine in King's cove ten year ago. Returning to it is terrifying. We pass the border and enter the outskirts of town. We drive fast and rich summer houses. Even though it isn't summer the houses aren't left empty. Other people live in them an

"Go home, Isla. I’ll find another way back." As I drove Noah’s truck back to the house alone, the silence was deafening. The foundation hadn't just cracked tonight. It had shattered. And as I pulled into the driveway of the only home I had left, I realized that the boy who promised he would never leave me was the one who had just sent me away, since I was ten years old, Noah Callahan didn’t walk me home.

"She only woke up when I arrived. So, while I waited, I looked around the house, all the way to the back." "All the way to the back?" "Yes. You remember, when we were little, we loved exploring, going into abandoned houses and gardens. I guess my sense of adventure never goes away." "But the door must be locked, right? We still won't be able to get in." Janus grinned. "The door is quite old, and the lock is broken. Just a little push will open it. They must feel safe, so they never check there, since the door faces the river."

I join in the frantic rush; fuelled with excitement while a buzz of life bounces from within the emptying apartment, all of us scouring around while we gather up the remainders of the current chapter of our lives. While Isaac makes a few trips back and for to our new home, dropping off the endless brigade of storage boxes, the girls help me as we pack up my belongings. After a swift farewell to my beloved sanctuary, we carry the last few boxes down the endless steps and into the back of the SUV. With the lock of a door, we’re finally ready to head to our new beginning, back to the pack home. My new home. I instantly feel a wave of relief wash over me as we drive away from the dangers lurking

It was a natural instinct, born in the depths of one's heart to persist in lingering inside and would rear its head whenever the transmigrator felt like he was already okay to stay in the current world. No matter how one denies it, it was a fact that even if one had no ties remaining to that place, the concept of home was not something they could easily brush off. The longing in their hearts would prevent them from fully integrating into the new world… They would always think of the inerasable past. It was the most painful kind of home-sickness. But the question was, in novels… was it always that easy to return to where they came from? No. Fate would not always be kind enough to let one trav

Hunter gazes out the window as the remains of Grant Manor cool, steam rising from the mostly fallen and scorched structure as the fire department works to put out the remaining flames. There's no way we can return there. Where does he mean when he says "home" ? Grant Manor was finally starting to feel like home with Livy and Hunter, my family right before everything changed and I learned the dark truth about who he is at night. Would the first home I found since leaving my marriage still be a smoldering ruin if I hadn't followed my ex-husband down to the party below? Would we all be better off pretending nothing was different about our little family?

The world felt small and tight inside the dusty granary. The air smelled of old grain and sadness. Outside, the only sound was the steady push of bodies against the heavy oak door. Thud. Thud. Thud. It wasn’t frantic, it wasn’t violent, it was worse: slow, patient, unstoppable. It was like the sound of home itself trying to break in, to swallow them whole in a fake hug that would trap them forever. Eli’s small, pale hand was still reaching out to his sister, Liora, his fingers limp and cold. The words he had spoken, the words it had made him say, “Come Home “ hung frozen in the quiet air.

*********************************** LIAM We just landed back in our quiet home town of South Carolina. Except the airport is anything but quiet right now. Reporters line the baggage claim and taxi area, snapping photos and asking personal questions. "No comment." I reply for the hundredth time, as I grab my duffle bag and sling it over my shoulder.

AUTHOR'S NOTE I would have put this author's note at the end of the Chapter but to avoid unnecessary corrections and critics, I decided to put it here. PLEASE NOTE the male protagonist begins to speak in this chapter and his pattern of speaking is... Unique. This is deliberate. The reason for this will be disclosed in the next chapters. UNCONSCIOUSLY PROTECTIVE The next day, first thing in the morning, Charlie runs to the living room to check if the panda bear is still here.

I mutter. Because the worst part isn’t Pierre. It isn’t even the heartbreak. It’s the fact that I want to go home so badly my bones ache with it. I miss stupid things suddenly. My apartment. Convenience store ramen. My phone charger that only worked at a certain angle. My mom yelling at me for forgetting laundry in the washing machine. God. I wanna get out of this novel. My throat tightens painfully. I press the heel of my palm against my mouth before another sob escapes. “Fuck,” I whisper brokenly.