Jars Of Sadness 소설 & 이야기

Please note the sarcasm. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Joy's POV

“I wish it could all go away. I wish I could wake up and forget what happened. Everything was perfect. Our life together was just beginning and there was so much hope. Now, all that’s left is despair and suffering. War and death.” Bash pulled her onto his lap and squeezed her. “I’m sorry, love. The reality of our existence isn’t always pleasant, and it’s getting harder. That was my hesitation to bring you into my world. But now it’s too late, you’ve faced the hard truth. I can make you forget what happened if you so choose.” “What? How?” Gaia sniffled as she looked up at Bash. “Do you remember how I could get past the bouncers in the VIP section of the club?”

Beside him, Vanessa looked down at me, eyes glinting with triumph, her smirk filled with condescension. Karen, exhausted from hurling insults, tossed the wooden ruler aside and collapsed onto the sofa with a frustrated sigh. "If only I’d held firm against Mother’s wishes and never agreed to your marriage! Now look at this mess—bringing a cursed wretch into our family was the worst decision we ever made!" I let out a bitter laugh as I sat on the cold floor. I had endured too much heartbreak in this house—Grandma’s passing, Lucas’s affairs, and in five years, I had lost five children…

On that face identical to mine, there was a chilling smile. "After I went with that piece-of-trash father of ours, do you know what kind of life I lived?" His fingers trembled as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a chest covered in grotesque scars. "That woman he married… she found new ways to torture me every day. Cigarette burns, belts… even boiling water—" My mother let out a heart-wrenching scream and collapsed from her seat. The judge’s gavel froze midair. Even the bailiffs stood stunned.

Mind & Heart by Tristan Barton plays softly, the melancholy melody filling the car. I lift my hand, gently placing a finger under Jace’s chin, guiding his face toward me. His eyes, once brimming with confidence and arrogance, are now sunken and haunted. In this moment, he’s not the Jace Adkins I know—the bold, self-assured man—but a lost little boy, burdened by the pain of visiting the graves of parents who were stolen from him.

This time, I didn't care about the stupid makeup or how mad Caden would be about it. Everything was falling apart. It all felt like one stupid bad dream I was never going to wake from. Gods, I was tired. So so tired. I slid to the floor and wept for a long time. I knew this was going to happen when I siphoned our happy memories. If Jaris didn't have a reason to like me, of course, he was bound to hate me. I guess I just didn't prepare myself to be hated by him. My phone vibrated in my purse. I took it out and found a text from him.

The events of the morning weigh heavily on me, and I can’t shake the feeling of dread and sorrow that has settled over me. “Wanna join me in the shower? There's nothing like a hot shower, it'll make you feel better.” Jaselyn offered, easily noticing my despair. I shake my head, my spirits too low, too overwhelmed to think of anything but the crushing weight of everything that's gone wrong. “I’ll pass. I'm sorry, Jas. I just can’t.” She doesn’t press me further. Instead, she takes matters into her own hands. She grabs my arm, pulling me along with her and sitting me down on a chair. She quickly straddles my lap, her face close to mine.

I tried to hold on to her body, but they had all dissolved, and turned into smoke. The smoke swirled, drifting toward the jar pendant. I held it up, and the mist dissipated into the jar, filling it with a soft, ethereal glow. I stared at the jar, my heart shattering into a million pieces as everything became all too real. “Mother!” I wailed, collapsing on the couch. The room spun around me, darkness closing in. I clutched the jar and the book, my lifelines to the mom I'd just found as tears poured down my face as I rocked back and forth, grief consuming me.

Tomorrow offered a chance at redemption, a day where actions could speak louder than the internal monologue of self-doubt that so often plagued me. The glass jar slipped from my grasp like a betrayal, shattering upon the floor with an explosion of brine and shattered hopes. The acrid smell of vinegar rose in the air, stinging my nostrils, as fragmented reflections of myself stared up from the mess of glass and pickles—a mosaic of remorse. I stood frozen, my pulse hammering in my ears, the cacophony of the crash echoing off the walls until Lee's voice sliced through the din. "Fuck! Jade, are you okay?" she exclaimed, her words tumbling out in a crescendo of concern as she closed the distance

Sweet little me? The spelling, phonetic transcription, and syllable structure to memorise it gave a head of three days initially but now I am at least proud that I have put it to some better use. And why, you may ask, do I feel this dreadful uneasiness, quirkiness, unsettledness? Thanks for the concern, it ain’t just: Jared is dead meat, buried deep in one of the hilly slopes of Sores-On Hills. Beaten, bitten, and departed. And We have got everything to do with it.