Mother Of Learning Fictionpress Novels & Stories

“The World of the Unknown. A book to die for.” My mother used to tell me stories of Vampires, Werewolves, Demons, the Orramoths, and the worst of them all, the Darklings. Most of the creatures she told me they blew out of proportion. She said writers did this to make a dollar or two, and some did it to scare the shit out of their kids and make them listen. My aunt would laugh because she said that I was a different breed than most. The minute I heard about them, I buried my head deeper into books with excitement. Little did she know I also discovered Daddy’s old box in the attic, and ‘The World of the Unknown’ was in it.

I should be ashamed of myself. As the morning hours passed, I successfully shook the ugly dream from my head. Instead, I focused on the work. I wasn't able to find anything suspicious about Alexei's operations. Yes, the mutts were treated poorly by him and his subordinates, but who cared? I certainly didn't. Right? "Mom." I softened when entering the library, finding my mom in her favorite armchair with a book in her hand. Love & War by Scribble Nook. A collection of short stories by multiple authors. She enjoyed all that action and romance.

Their mother had told them only by having a knowledge will people respect them , so everyone eager to learn to read and write . Furthermore ,their mother had the books and pensil or pen that she always took out from no where . Two weeks past by since she had came to this era. The children already had their flash and meat show on their face and body . She also had become more rosy and beautiful. The face is becoming more and more like her in her original world.

Mom slowly sank to the floor, tears flowing silently. Disturbed by the noise, Andrew opened his bedroom door, a trace of annoyance in his voice. "Mom, can you keep it down? I'm in the middle of a game." As if finding an anchor, Mom scrambled up and grabbed Andrew's hand, weeping. "Andy, your father has had another woman on the side all these years. You have to stand up for me!" Andrew shrank back, pulling his hand away. "I think Dad has a point. As long as you pretend not to know anything, we can still live peacefully as a family."

ASTRA (flashback part 2) When I was a mere kid, back then when I wasn’t even in high school just yet, the bookstore is my favorite hangout place for so many reasons. I love reading! I love discovering new ideas! It is also my mother’s work place after she quit designing for a high end brand. But most importantly, there’s this particular type of reading material I always love to check out during my free time. A visual book. A magazine. In those pages, there are beautiful tall women wearing elegant clothes. They look mysterious and intimidating. My mother calls them a model. She then mentioned that she use to work with those kind of women before.

Soon, perhaps, I may be served up for their amusement. Are you astonished at how I address you? Are you amazed that a simple peasant girl should use such flowery language? Ah, but then, my mother was a very learned lady. She instructed me in reading, writing, Greek, Latin, the proper usage of our own crude tongue, and all the arts: mathematics, philosophy, medicine and rhetoric. She had a library, oh, such a library, of ancient, secret texts: Plato, Aristotle, Sophocles, Virgil, Ovid, all those worthy men and more, and Sappho, lovely Sappho, the sweet voice of the Goddess. All those lovely books, waiting to be read some day. They used them for kindling, when they burned her.

" Mom stared at the plastic pieces. That was the truth she had been convinced of for ten years, the foundation for the death sentence she placed on me. Yet, it had been nothing but a toy. So, what controlled my life for the past ten years was just a toy? It was nothing but a game that decided I belonged in hell and Daniel belonged in heaven. So I wasn't a liar. I wasn't a bad child. Then what was all my years of suffering for? I laughed, and as I laughed, I cried. Who knew that even spirits could shed tears? As the officer turned to the last page, she started to choke up. "The handwriting is messy. This was likely written right before death.

The stories she had shared with Theo blended with the fabric of her dreams, creating a symphony of love, imagination, and connection. In this mystical realm, Mama Hazel felt a deep sense of peace and contentment. The stories she had written, the tales she had told, were not merely words—they were portals to a world where hearts spoke in whispers and dreams flew on the wings of imagination. Each character, each setting, resonated with a spark of life, a reflection of the magic that dwelled within her soul.

This was the story that Arthur Vane tried to keep hidden. Manon told me that my mother did not just teach kids how to read. The School of the Hidden Vine was about more than that. My mother taught kids about the land and where it came from. She used the money my father sent her to buy back land that companies wanted to build hotels on. My mother made an area, around this village that no company can touch. She called it her Hidden Vineyard or the Invisible Vineyard. Manon said this was my mothers dream, the Hidden Vineyard.

My mother could drug minds. Who was Mother?