My Quiet Book Novels & Stories

“Sometimes the greatest gifts are built in silence, yet they speak louder than words ever could.” Ellie sat in the vast library of Merchetti Mansion, a book open on her lap though she barely read the words. The quiet of the room, the scent of old leather and polished wood, offered a rare moment of peace she seldom allowed

I couldn’t speak until I was eight years old. Everyone in the Sterling family called me dumb. Even my mother would secretly wipe away tears, convinced she had given birth to an autistic daughter. Whenever my father looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but disappointment. However, for the sake of the family’s reputation, he could never bring himself to send me away to a special education school. Then came the day someone from a prominent hedge fund company arrived to acquire our family company, Sterling Group. He was so arrogant that he chewed out everyone in the boardroom until all of them hung their heads low. The room full of corporate executives fell silent, too terrified to

I have never trusted quiet. Not the gentle kind you get after rain, when the world smells rinsed clean and birds reclaim their arrogance. I mean the kind of quiet that arrives after violence, when people pretend the silence belongs to them and not to whatever is simply waiting its turn. The village had that second kind.

He flipped the light bar off, plunging us back into the grey dimness of the storm. "You're getting good at that," he said, his breathing finally beginning to level out. "At what?" "At the 'Dirty' work," Enzo said. I looked down at the Red Ledger. My knuckles were white where I gripped the leather. I wasn't the "Boring" girl who worked for a tech startup anymore. I was the woman who had just blinded a man so her husband could ram a truck. "It says here... 'The Quiet,'" I read, squinting at the page as a neon sign from a passing liquor store illuminated the text. "What is 'The Quiet'?"

she signed. She grinned as Jacqueline took out a wheel chair taking her out for a stroll she hoped people were not there meanwhile Jacqueline wished people where there so she could see and know that the Silent Moon had people who loved her and wanted her to stay with tem with no fear and no stress. They all wanted her to heal and she sure was going to heal as she had started telling Xavier her story it meant she was already getting there.

He held out a small parcel. I opened it, to reveal a small, leather book filled with blank, cream colored pages. It fit into the palm of my hand, and there was a small pen tethered to the book. “Thank you,” I wrote. “It’s my pleasure,” he said. “Don’t worry about filling it up. See?” He opened the book, and showed me how the pages were actually a second book, bound in thicker paper, that could slip out and be replaced. “It’s a scout’s journal,” he explained. “We all carry them. I thought it would work as your voice.”

I could never pronounce that on a first trial. Willow laughed gently. “Oh, the mute queen. I can't even pronounce her name. Hell, Andrea, you are good.” She exclaimed. “I love that story. You know, one author wrote about that. I think the book was called ‘The Silent Patient’. You should read it. You always liked stories with gods and swords.” “I will read it,” Andrea said with a nod. I pushed my plate aside. “Speaking of stories, I’ve got a new one to tell. I’m getting a Christmas tree.”

She was tired of trying to figure everything out herself. Soon she diverted to a lonely route. It was her usual route home and she loved it not just because of the beautiful lake there but because of the quiet scenario. It always brought peace to her troubled mind. Sitting on the on the grass with folded legs, she plugged in her headpiece and shut her eyes as a serene music filled her ears. All of a sudden, the world was far behind with all its troubles and pains. What was left was peace. Just peace. There was only her in her world. No bullying stepmother, no neglecting father and no annoying spoilt brat of a stepsister.

"What's this?" "Go ahead, open it." Rosie carefully started unwrapping the gift to reveal a book. "I Go Quiet," she glanced up at Anthony, a gentle smile tugging on her lips. "I haven't heard of this one." Anthony shrugged nonchalantly, his heart pattering with anxiety. He was terrified to see her reaction, scared she would hate it. "I'm not much of a bookworm so it might just be the worst thing you've ever read. My grandmother helped pick it out."

I needed time. Time to think. Time to understand. Time to figure out who I was before I let anyone else tell me who I was supposed to be. And for now—That was enough. ---- The quiet did not last. At first, it was so subtle that I almost missed it, a faint shift in the stillness of the room that felt more like a thought than a sound. The pages of the book rested open in my hands, my eyes moving over the words, but something had changed. The calm that had settled around me only moments before seemed to tighten, as if the air itself had grown thinner, heavier, carrying something I could not yet see.