Invisible Narratives Novels & Stories

"Even if your parents remarried she is still your sister. Isn't it too much to frame her as the hit and run criminal? Don't you think this is too much for her?" Monica looked down at the floor, it was not as if something interesting held her interest she just looked. "You won't understand." She cried, smearing her mascara in horizontal lines. "Even if I explain to you all you won't understand what I am passing through! It is difficult for people to understand! Even my therapist!" Monica twisted the doorknob ready to bolt out but once again the inspector stopped her. "What are you doing, let me go!" "I have eyes for pulling people in my category. Monica Johnson, you should be a perfect match

Angel would make a difference if she had to give away every dime, she had to do it. Her next three classes went pretty much as she’d figured they would, she was rather anonymous unless one of the students or a professor recognized her. That did happen a couple times, while the professors were more circumspect, the students pointed and whispered loudly. She didn’t let it get to her, while she was in her class, she kept meticulous notes on her laptop, not that she’d need to reread them but, she didn’t want her professors thinking she intended to coast through their classes.

But before I could blink, I came in contact with a kick on my face, and my vision blurred until I slowly lost consciousness. "Karma...Truly is a bitch like me." ~~ Author: A man emitting a bleak yet dangerous aura treaded carefully along some pathway followed by three particular men who kept heed of their distance. The three men then parted and explored the whole area thoroughly without a word. The man, currently, stayed in place on his spot and stared at the city lights before him. The scenery was a peaceful night, making the mysterious man wary of his surroundings; The wind glided along with the luster of the full moon, and the distant clamor of the people he heard below the many skyscrape

Lloyd was a lot thoughtful but Catherine wasn't paying attention to her, he felt so reasonable and out of much curiosity, he spoke. "We could get rid of infections, viruses and diseases." On hearing these, Catherine looked at him. She knew everything about the hidden world, she knows what exists and what doesn't. Although, she got all her intuitions from her father but she knows basically what more could be described in the hidden world. She knows how she came to be, she knows basically everything concerning Clancy and other creatures but as told by Lloyd, she must keep her mouth shut. Lloyd was about to break that code of keeping the mouths shut.

If it served my purpose, it was good enough. Hiding from the media, even for someone like me, was a daily war. Money talks—but microphones scream. Reporters clawed for a headline, and even at night, they hunted. You’d think exhaustion would stop them. It didn’t...the man who was once an open book, now closed off, and under suspicion after his wife vanished.

Running under all of it. Even where you could not see it. I picked up the pencil. I thought about how to show the invisible thing. The thing that was there even when you could not see it. I thought about the notation system. About category eight. About the things that were just there. About the staying that was not contingent. I drew a very light line. Under all the spirals. Under all the routes. Under the whole map. A single continuous line. Running under everything. Very light. Almost invisible.

He leaned back finally, gazing at the unfinished canvas. “You can’t hide forever,” he murmured to no one but himself. The city moved on, unaware of the silent battle between a woman who could not afford vulnerability and a man who refused to look away. And as dawn crept across the skyline, Sophia and Alex carried the same weight into a new day: the unbearable, unshakable truth of being seen.

This will start conversations. That was enough. That was exactly what I had been trying for — not to expose one person, but to illuminate a system. To make visible the thing that worked precisely because it stayed invisible. I knew that if he ever read it, he would recognize himself in the architecture of it. Not named. Not accused. Just present in the pattern, the way a person's handwriting is present in a letter even when they haven't signed it. The message arrived on a Tuesday evening while I was at my desk revising a paragraph about psychological reinforcement cycles, the city quiet outside my window, everything in my life feeling, for the first time in a long time, genuinely settled.

Whose work would appear on the right side of a ledger for the first time. I thought about my mother's investment. Twelve million dollars that had been invisible in a company's books. That had not been counted. That had been used and denied and buried. She had been invisible. The legislation made invisibility harder. Not impossible. Not yet. But harder. And harder was the direction. I closed the laptop and picked up my coat. I had a school pickup to get to. Silas's POV I found the last piece of Gerald's history by accident. I was not looking for it. I had stopped looking for things in that direction years ago because what needed to be found had been found and accounted for and the reckoning w

Hall earlier that day, but when she opened her bag, she found a printed sheet inside that she hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t signed. It simply said: “You’re opening your eyes, Invisible Doctor. Be careful. Some things were never meant to be seen.”