Novel About Mother Novels & Stories

And since then, I've been alone without someone with me to help me grow, but those useless machines whom they want me to treat as a family. They made my mother a toy! And then what? Disposed her when they got nothing from her? Inhumane. Well, I shouldn't be surprised, I can even smell their rotting souls from here. But my question is, what are they up to? All I know is my mother was a scientist. Is it by any chance connected to that? Does that belong to the dots that I'm trying to connect? Will that answer all my questions or will that just lead me to another dead end? No one knows the answer.

I shut my eyes because I recalled the pain I felt that time. He'll pay for this. “Elizabeth, can you throw this trash bag outside the pasture?” Mother asked me from the kitchen when I was reading a fiction novel from the living area. “Yes, Mother!” I answered, stood up, and placed my fiction novel on the wooden sofa I was sitting.

She's like that with the people she loves. "It must be because you're electric," I comment, looking at her with my arms crossed against my chest. "I'm not electric." Abby answers, throwing herself back on the pillows at the headboard. “Are you going to read a book too? Will I have two stories?” I hold back a laugh. I'm not going to read books about whales, I'm thinking about telling better stories. “Not about whales.” I say, my gaze fixed on her. My mother puts on her glasses and flips through the book, as if looking for a good story. She leans back in her chair when she seems to find one.

"No, I don't…" When she lifted her head again and met his eyes, he let out a piercing scream. How could he not, when what he saw was the face of his mother? The same mother who'd been dead for over a decade.

"I've learned my lesson! I'll never trust that software again! Please forgive me. Come back and live with me, alright? I won't favor anyone anymore. You're my only son. Whatever you want, I'll buy it for you. Okay?" Her eyes overflowed with tears. However, when she reached me, she grasped nothing but empty air. I sighed softly. Ignoring her desperate cries, I turned and walked away. A faint breeze drifted across the bedside. My notebook fell to the floor. It was the only thing she had kept of mine. Inside, she had written countless confessions. [I will never show favoritism again. My good son… Will you still be my child in the next life? I promise I'll be a good mother.]

I approached my mother's bed, intending to return the novels to the bookshelf. My mother has always loved reading. She even collected many novels and children's story books. Mama often told me that she wanted to be a children's story writer. Even though mom gave up on her dream after my dad died. And Mama chose to focus on raising me. "Huh?" I furrowed my brows when I saw the plastic packages hanging and squeezing behind the bookshelf. My hand tried to reach the plastic. Although it was a little difficult, I finally managed to reach the plastic and peek inside.

Letting the warmth soak into my skin, letting my words hang in the silence before I dropped the weight of them between us. “My mother was a wolf. Not just any wolf. High blood. Moon-blessed. Born into one of the oldest lines in the northern territories. She was graceful, powerful, revered… and stupid enough to fall in love with a demon prince.” That got a flicker out of her—just a twitch of her lips. Not quite a reaction. But something.

My mother, Sophie Nash, was also my homeroom teacher, and she loved nothing more than using me to assert her authority. She was convinced that the worse off I was, the more afraid my classmates would be, and the higher her authority would be. Once, when I passed an eraser to a classmate during class, she slapped me so hard across the face in front of the whole class that my face swelled up. Another time, after I secretly ate a crumb of a classmate’s snack during recess, my mom dragged me up to the front of the classroom and pricked my lip with a needle until blood gushed out. Later, when a classmate was caught by the vice principal for having a romantic relationship while underaged, my m

My name is Veronica Paige, and I had been married to my husband, Leonard Hunter, for over a year. Leonard worked at a foreign company, and we had always shared a loving relationship. When Mother’s Day arrived, I wanted to please Leonard and strengthen my bond with his mother, so I suggested we go shopping together to find the perfect gift for Mary Wallace, my mother-in-law. However, things didn’t go as planned. Leonard’s company suddenly called him in for overtime, and he wouldn’t be home until late that night. Left with no choice, I returned home with the gift by myself.

She was more trouble than I was on a bad day—and that was saying something. The market men and women avoided her like a plague-infested rat, and apparently, with no one else to terrorize, she had chosen my meek, gentle mother as her next victim. My mother. Sweet, quiet, gentle Mama—who could barely swat a fly, let alone defend herself against that hurricane of a woman. And this was the part where Edwina Danielle Jonas lost all sense of decorum. But today, she messed with the wrong person. Because here’s the thing: no one, and I mean no one, lays a hand on my mother and walks away untouched. Not even Agatha with her foul mouth and five husbands.