Hold Still Book Novels & Stories

He was harder on himself then anyone else could be. "We got you this. Well, Cole did." Hal speaks up. Innocent pearly blue eyes mocking me. I look at the little black book he had in his hands. His rings were brighter with the white hospital lights. I tilt my head and realise it looked like my poetry book. Cole's head poked up and he sat back in his seat before taking the book and holding it out in front of me. I take it all the while keeping his gaze. I open the canvas cover and see a blank page. I turn the page and am greeted with another blank page, then another, then another. I furrow my eyebrows.

I really struggle to get out the words and that wasn't my plan for this story. So for now (and until who knows when), Pretty Little Fears will be on an indefinite hold. I apologize once again and thank you for following this story up to this point. I can't thank y'all enough! CJ 💚

I asked, touching a particular thick book. “That one’s about bloodline history,” he said when I held it up. “It was written by a half-mad seer,” he added. His answers were brief, but still it felt like a conversation. I wanted to continue, so I grabbed a book tucked behind the others. The book was so old it looked like it had survived a fire. Its edges were burnt, and blackened. The title had long faded away, and the cover was cracked with age. “What about this one?” I asked, pointing to it without touching. “Why are you keeping it?”

And that is a story that will last forever. END OF BOOK

And then, The line goes quiet. And I’m left sitting in my silent penthouse, holding a phone that can’t bring her back.

' Why can't you do it yourself? " Yes Sr. And what should I send? " "I don't care what you'll send, just make sure it will make her stay out of my sight for a while, use my card" he said hanging up the phone. There goes my mood." Ailee if I murder someone will you help me bury the evidence?" I asked standing up. " Obviously, who is on the blacklist? " " Niklaus Salvatore " I took my bag." You're coming with me let's go " I informed her and she followed me.

“Let me leave you to enjoy your brooding state while I go get the fun in need. So, see you some other day?” “If I still exist, yes,” I tell her, and she smiles at me before she starts to exit the room. When she reaches the door, I was expecting her to walk right through it again but she turns around to look at me. “Lest I forget,” she says and takes her right hand from the back. She then holds it out for me to see a book in it. “I wanted to give you this,” When I look closely at the display of the book, I could instantly tell that it was the book I was after in this place — the Archived Holders.

“Sorry, but I’m coming in.'' Nolan entered Venessa’s room in haste. He holds a book that seems to be on its deathbed since the pages are slipping out from the book and every one of them looks ancient. A weird smell is spreading from that book that makes others puke. How old that book can be! Venessa nods her head and says, “What’s that in your hand?”She is holding her nose to prevent herself from smelling the odour. “This is the answer to everything that has happened so far. I had a doubt, but didn’t realise I could pin on it easily.”Nolan hands the book to Venessa who first rejects to take it because of the smell but then carefully receives it. Some pages slipped while they were exchanging.

While biting the burger, I noticed the window of our classroom on the fifth floor, the side where my seat is. There was a hand throwing a notebook away in the window. The notebook fell on the ground. I wanted to check whose book it is so as soon as I ate all the food, I walked over there and picked the notebook up but when I was about to open the first page to see what’s inside, a hand grabbed it away from me. I turned to see who it was and saw Page trying to catch her breath. She looked like she ran from the fifth floor to get to the ground. She was clutching to the notebook as if there was something so important inside it.

Less than a month. She slid her thumb under the flap and opened it slowly. The paper yielded without resistance. Inside was a folded sheet and a pressed flower, flattened thin as memory—pale petals ghostly against the white, fragile stem, a faint brown shadow. The kind of thing that had once been alive now existed only as evidence. She brushed her fingertip over the petal; it shivered, delicate as the hush between songs.