I Survived Book New Novels & Stories

But I shrugged it off thinking maybe I am just too overwhelmed by this place and will get used to it. Seeing the whole environment of the class, I felt that there was something new...something different about this lot. Maybe it was the fact that I have never in my life been in a class of people coming from different parts of the country, with different personalities. As you grow up in a single town: you get to know people who have more or less the same lives, same experiences as yourself, but what I was seeing here, was very different from what I have seen my entire life. As I looked around the class I could make out what these people were experiencing...every face had a different story to t

Why is my issue appears very normal inside this bookstore? 5 novel books for teens caught my attention. The one is a little tragedy. It's Story Title was “I'll Protect You” written by Lawliet “It was five years ago when Andrew's friends and his boyfriend died. All of them were said to be killed by his best friend, Allen. The tragedy almost caused him to take his own life. After two years, Andrew was able to get back on his feet and tried to live as normal as possible. It was then when he met Karl. For Karl, Andrew was his sun no matter what his past is. Andrew was the person who changed him, a person he had promised he wouldn't leave. For they thought they could finally be happy, a person fr

she said, her voice deeper, like distant waves, "do you remember the fire?" He stopped, looked at the sun, then at the book. "I remember... a dream," he said. "A market, a girl who saved the stars. But it was just a dream, right?" June scanned the park. Under a tree, she spotted an old man in a white apron, holding a wooden spoon. He tipped his hat and smiled. Gabe. Alive. Real. June turned back to the book, opening to the last page. The list of the dead was gone. In its place, a new list—a list called "The Living."

“And you’re still here.” I sucked in a shaky breath, letting her words sink into the parts of me that still felt cracked and hollow. I’d survived Zane, I’d survived Sophie, I’d survived being thrown away, abandoned, left to rot. I’d survived the streets, the cold, the nights with no food, the shame and the constant fear. And now… Inside me, something small was living. Growing. Breathing because I breathed. My hand drifted unconsciously to my stomach. “I…” My voice broke. “I think…”

The guy—Rick, walked away too without uttering another word to me and I watched him sit next to her, head falling backwards to rest on the wall with a soft thud. What was wrong with the people here? Everyone was weird. I swallowed, slowly rising to my feet as I ran a frantic hand over my body for injuries. There were no stab wounds on my wrist, no broken skull, nor did I have crooked or broken limbs. And I had a heartbeat also, which was thumping hard against my chest. Was I truly alive? Did he really grant me a second chance? Looking over my shoulder, I noticed the floor-to-ceiling window for the first time. Through the spotless glass, the city was fogged over, dark without electricity.

Maybe he had never been treated like that before, but slowly, the calls stopped. The messages also went silent. At last, I could start adjusting to a new life. At first, it felt strange being in an unfamiliar place and a brand-new job all by myself. However, little by little, I realized I could actually find joy in it. Life began to feel meaningful and purposeful again. The part of me that had been suppressed for years was finally breaking free. Sometimes, though, my thoughts would drift back to the past, to those unforgettable moments that had carved themselves into my heart.

I was to get pregnant and then be killed by Bas. I had accepted my fate. My life was short, but it was well-lived, and for that, I was grateful. Walking out of the bathroom, I dressed and tied my hair into a messy bun. Sitting on my bed, I picked up the only book Darius had left me. Of all things, it was a geography book—a cruel irony in his claims not to let me die of boredom. I flipped through the pages, trying to focus on the text, but my mind wandered. The stark white pages were a contrast to the dark, suffocating thoughts in my head. Each page turned was a reminder of my confinement, the walls closing in on me.

Too much fire and not enough air. She sat in her study, lights dim, the rain still tapping against the old glass. Before her lay a blank leather-bound book. She dipped the pen in ink, then paused. She wrote: For my son. “The world you inherit is broken. You are not born to fix it. You are born to survive it. This is not a cradle song. This is a manual of war.” She titled the first page: THE BOOK OF BLOOD She stopped. Closed her eyes. Listened to the wind.

Yuna had an outstanding way of thinking that was different from everyone she had met. Yuna continued, “I can’t imagine a life without books. Without people keeping records of history and life on earth, we would revert to being cave men that roam the earth.” Sun felt lost with some of Yuna’s ramblings. What did she mean cave men? Were there actually men that lived in caves? She was clueless. Sun was curious as to know how Yuna had ideas that were outside of the box.

“Excuses….. excuses….. excuses. I guess that is the only thing you are good at.” “ I am not making an excuse. People are allowed to keep the book for more than a week if they make a special application.” She tried to say in an even tone but it wavered slightly towards the end. “Whatever! I have no time to waste on people like you.” She said airily and stormed out of the door. “What a great way to start the day,” Sia muttered under her breath and checked the register to ensure that all the entries were in order. Then she walked along the shelves, running her hand over the books. She halted when she reached the ‘Fantasy’ section and pulled out a book titled, ‘Survival’.