My Brain Trembles Novels & Stories

My heart started thumping a bit wild with a growing curiosity, and my hands trembled as I blinked my eyes three times. Why…why do my palms look like this?

Remembering those days brings tears to my eyes that I don't notice when my hand on the cup handle wavers and the cup begins to tremble in my hand. My hand is trembling so much that the tea begins to splutter everywhere. The hot tea spilling on my hand and burning my skin. But I don't move and my hand keeps shaking. I want it to hurt. Maybe feeling this kind of burning pain will distract me from the pain in my heart.

♛ Aurora: By the time Adrian arrived, I was already shaking from the worry cutting through my nerves. My fingers wouldn’t stop twitching and trembling against each other, everything I held onto fell from my hands. The pen I was wrapping tightly around my palm fell off. My chest tightened with each breath, and I couldn’t sit still no matter how hard I tried to. I paced the length of my office, arms wrapped around myself to stop me from shaking uncontrollably.

God knows that I have tried. But there's no cooperation between me and my body. It won't listen or won't stop screaming at me. My hands started shaking. No. Infact my whole body is shaking, trembling like I've been in a blizzard instead of a temperature controlled room. I stumble back, desperate for distance, for space, for anything that isn't his touch and his scent and his presence. “Deborah—-” “Don't.” I held up a hand and pathetically it's trembling badly. “Just… don't.”

Not even when the doors swing shut. I tell myself it means nothing as I stand silently , but my hands are shaking anyway. Not just trembling but shaking. It’s like my body is reacting faster than my brain could catch up. Something inside me is quivering in an unsettling and unfamiliar manner that I hate and I don’t even have a clinical word to even describe it. I walk quickly, almost too quickly, down the corridor and into the staff bathroom. I lock the door behind me and brace my palms against the sink, breathing through my nose, staring at my own reflection like it might explain what just happened.

My body trembled with anxiety as I tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept creeping back. I could feel the weakness in my limbs, the same weakness that had plagued me since my fever started. But now, it felt different, more acute, like my body was shutting down on me. Every movement was a struggle, and I could barely lift my arms to rub the sleep from my eyes.

I came through the building's front entrance and the city hit me all at once, the noise and the movement and the indifference of it, and I was nodding at something Diana was saying about next steps and processing it correctly and my hands were steady at my sides. My hands were steady. I noticed that first. Then I reached for the car door handle. And my hands started shaking. Not immediately, a delayed response, the kind that came when the body waited until it was safe and then released everything it had been holding for six hours. The fine tremor starting in my wrists and moving up through my forearms, the same tremor that had been there after the boardroom the first time, the one Henry had

I hadn’t even heard him move, yet I knew he was leaning back In his chair, his head probably tilted toward the thin wall separating us. “I’m reviewing the figures for the HVAC system,” I said, my voice sounding tight and brittle. I forced my fingers to tap a few keys, the sound echoing like a frantic pulse in the small space. “It’s a lot to process.” “You’re vibrating,” he murmured. I froze. My right hand was indeed trembling, a fine, metallic tremor that I couldn’t suppress. “I told you, I have a migraine. I’m just… sensitive to the noise of the construction.”

Estelle’s POV “Her hands were completely still.” Daisy tilted her head. “Earlier this week,” I said, leaning forward, “Harrison told me she had a bad episode. Real panic, real shaking. She knocked a watering can off a bathroom shelf because her hands were trembling so badly she couldn’t control them. He saw it himself. That was genuine—the kind of tremor you can’t manufacture.” “And yesterday?”

My body shakes so violently that the tea almost spills from the force of it. Okay, that wasn’t fair of me. That wasn’t fair at all, yet I don’t call him back. My voice seems to be stuck in my throat and my brain feels like it’s on lockdown. There’s a buzzing at the back of my head, a deafening buzz and it jumbles my thoughts so bad, my head is filled and my throat is locked up. Instinct takes me to the floor near Roman and I sit there, unable to do anything or think of anything.