Pieces Of Her Novels & Stories

But still I wonder where she lived that all those years, I didn’t saw her around. And just one day she suddenly approached me and introduced herself as Cristine Lumiere. Her name suits her. She looks feisty and brave. She looks independent and her beauty always make the boys drown at her. And maybe that’s why I am always irritated to her every time she tries to converse with me.

The tissues beneath are still visible to my eyes. She had done this to herself “Oh..lucs…… Good morning,” she slurred, her voice breaking as she spoke, evidence of crying all night, evidence of her pain, one I had put her through. But what made my skin crawl was the oddly creeping smile plastered against her face as they stretched wide on her lips. “I waited, you know, for you to come…for you to see this…” Before I could register what she meant, before I could move, She was faster, A larger piece of broken glass, clenched in her trembling hand.

I wasn't someone to whine about it. After all, this was vanilla compared to what he has done to me. "Chris! I'm serious," I sat her down on the black marble countertop. I opened one of the top drawers that had a first aid kit. It was used very often so I had to keep it close. I placed it beside her, closing the drawer. Her eyes followed my every move.

, she keeps on shouting herself and breaks into a bluster of tears. Pulling her pillow from behind she hugs it close to her chest and holding it tight she cries and wails loud. Every hiccup of hers between the cry resonated the ounce of her pain. Her heart was shattered into million pieces and recalling that nightmare makes it impossible for her to recollect the pieces and mend them again.

She felt loss in every fragment—the life that should have been hers, stolen without explanation. She clutched the toys, rocking slightly as the weight of years pressed down on her. Every memory, every fragment, brought both joy and pain. She realized she had spent decades not knowing who she truly was, not knowing that someone had loved her enough to create these moments, even if briefly. The music wound down, leaving silence. Her tears continued, glistening on her cheeks, her hands trembling. For a long time, she just sat there, holding the rabbit and doll, letting the pieces of herself slowly emerge from the shadows.

Her lips trembled as she muttered, "No, that's not possible. I remember she looked fine… That day, she was still so radiant…" Indeed, my injuries didn't look serious from the front. There were just a few light scrapes I got from protecting Linda. At that moment, I had held her close, using my body to protect her from the rogue's hammer. That so-called "radiance" Mom remembered was nothing more than a last burst of adrenaline. It was my final flash before death. She was the healing center's chief healer. If she'd cared enough to look at me properly, she would have noticed it. However, she never spared me a proper glance from beginning to end.

“Don’t worry. You won’t die in vain." She went straight to her room, past the familiar furniture, and opened the drawer where she pulled out a pair of scissors. Her hands were steady now. She drew a lock of hair up and began to cut it, the strands falling to the floor. With every cut, she felt a small piece of the past fall away. The long hair that had once been part of who she was dropped in a neat pile at her feet. When she finished, she stared into the mirror, scissors still in hand, her jaw set tight.

The day I found out we had only $2,200 left in savings, I spent $2,000 on a ticket to a piano recital. When my friend found out, he asked if I'd lost my mind. I said without expression, "I just want to see what kind of man is worth her draining all our savings just to buy him a high-end piano. That money was supposed to save our daughter's life. Annie was waiting for it so she could have surgery." The recital lasted two full hours. Everyone around me marveled at the beautiful music. But all I could think about was the man onstage, and—Audrey McMillan, my wife, seated directly in front of him in an expensive evening gown, looking so elegant and privileged that I barely recognized her. Af

" After hearing what Josie said, the young woman wiped away her tears. She stared at Josie for a moment. Her expression turned furious. "It's you! You're in the photos too!" She pulled out a stack of photos from her bag and shoved them all into Josie's hands. A few photos slipped down and landed at my feet. I glanced at them and immediately felt nauseous. They were all photos of Alex with different women. One of them was Josie. People passing by became curious. They leaned over to look and immediately retrieved their phones to take photos. When Josie saw the intimate photos of herself and Alex, she screamed.

"Look at you with the jokes." We find a spot to lay our stuff, and then I watch as she shrugs out of her t-shirt and shorts. I'm not sure what I expected, but what I get is so far out of my wildest dreams, I'm flabbergasted. She's wearing a one-piece with one side cut-out and it's giving me ideas. "Holy fuck, Ro." "I bought it last year." She grins. "And I've not had a chance to wear it yet. I thought I'd wear it for you."