Histoire Triste Novels & Stories

"He's an evil man. He beat me as a child. He shot me and locked me in a sweltering shed for days." I make a thick sound in my throat. I can't look away as he verbally paints a vivid picture of his nightmares, his traumas, and his childhood. On the private stone balcony, under an inky, star-studded sky, a Fortunate does the impossible. A Fortunate makes me feel grateful for my own childhood; grateful for the anonymity growing up with a great number of Unfortunates afforded. "Worst of all," he adds. "He killed my mother."

"Are you sure you can do my house? You don't hold a grudge against me, do you? It wouldn't be funny if the design of my house was destroyed because the interior designer I used was my ex who still holds a grudge." "Grudge.?" Yara laughed when she heard that. "Yara, I'm serious. My future wife can't get involved in this interior design matter because she doesn't understand, she leaves it completely to me. And I don't want to let her down." Yara's heart felt like it was being squeezed. No, not because she still loves Adam. She just couldn't accept seeing Adam live happily. And what did he say? Future wife? The man already has a future wife, building a house that they will live in together. Mea

I picked up the signed papers and walked toward the door without a backward glance. Behind me, I could hear Carmen's desperate sobs as she came to, mixed with Vincent's broken whimpers. It had nothing to do with me anymore. The moment I stepped out of that room, I felt free. Sunlight streamed through the estate's massive windows, warm and bright. The man who betrayed me paid his price. And I, Isabella Marconi, was free again. This is the price for betraying a Marconi.

Her breaths were slow and controlled, but I could see the conflict raging beneath the surface—see how her fingers twitched and her jaw flexed like she was trying to bite back the storm of emotions inside her. She was unraveling, and I didn’t blame her. I had spent years untangling myself from the damage Stacey had done, from the betrayal of realizing my sister had erased me, erased our father, and rewritten our entire existence to suit the perfect, untouchable image she wanted to project. Makayla was just now discovering that the woman she had once trusted, maybe even loved, had been playing God with her own history. She let out a sharp, bitter breath, shaking her head. “This…” she exhaled,

" And he left the table. Maryam let out a sob and laid her head on her Mother's laps. "Mommy... will..will..i ever be happy now?" She asked sobbing uncontrollably. "Insha Allah my daughter insha Allah." Haj Sakinatu assured. ### Zainab's pov "What are we doing here?" I asked them and they all kept quiet. Sh*t! I shouldn't have followed them. Stupid brain. Aisha paid the cab driver and we got out and that was when I realised we are in front of the magnificent Eiffel tower. I took some pictures and posted them on Snapchat and Instagram.

We made our way further towards the trap when we heard a voice, it was a female voice and mind you it was the most beautiful voice I've heard, even in her scared state....she started blabbing about how she doesn't taste sweet or how the gods won't accept her flesh, the most funny one was her sayings no one will buy her organs as they won't work without her, she thought we were carnivores, she must have really been scared, my parents and sister fell into a fit of laughter but I just managed a smile, the soul must have been scared and I was the one

He could never win with her, never get a word in. When the flashback ended, Bashir Bakura cursed himself for being so unsuccessful at the time, for taking the money Bushratou's father had offered and gone abroad to make a name for himself in architecture. It was one of his worst decisions. His second most regretted decision was never checking up on the child Bushratou had and his worst ever decision, was marrying Yaana. He regretted it bitterly.

At my wife's birthday party, my daughter and son accidentally knocked over a bowl of soup and splashed it on their uncle. My wife grabbed his completely unharmed hand and tore into both children. But that still wasn't enough for her, so she locked the two of them inside the sauna. I called and begged her, again and again, to spare our kids. Her voice was ice cold. "Stop bothering me! This is your fault for raising them so badly! "Since they burned someone, they can sit in there and think hard about what they did!" The thermometer kept climbing. Blisters had already risen on my children's skin, and they wailed without stopping. I begged her to forgive them like a man gone mad. "They're

“I shall take your leave too, I suppose. Your friends are eagerly waiting for you to join them. Going out for a little celebration, aren’t you?” Impulsively, I turned around to indeed find a group of three musketeers looking in my directions. Still watching them, I replied to Dr.Degrasee, “Um, yes. I heard Henry planned a little something for us. Nothing extravagant though. We’d probably just go out for a drink or two.” “Well, in any case, do enjoy your evening. And like Dr.Merch said, choose wisely. Give it a thought, yeah?” “I’ll keep it in mind, yes.” I nodded eagerly and prayed for him to leave already. I genuinely enjoyed Dr.Degrassee company but now was certainly not one of those times