Questions To Make You Think Twice Novels & Stories

She lets out a soft giggle. “Sorry. I just hate the twenty questions game. I think it is because I am a medical student and I like checklists and order. If people played the twenty questions game correctly, it would be fine. But no one ever does. They end up asking more than one question, or talking about something else and forgetting about the game, or forgetting to take turns. It drives me crazy.” “Are you implying that I could not follow simple game rules?” “Yes.”

"How can I be?! You ask me that question?! We had s*x last night and you say good morning?!! What is good about the morning, huh?! This is the worst morning I've ever had!" "What are you saying? Yes, we did have s*x last night. What is the problem with that?" "The problem there is, we shouldn't have done this in the first place! We just met for crying out loud!! I can't...I can't believe that I just had a one night stand! Oh, my God!!"

I read through some and then I shook my head and dropped it as I got to my feet, placing my hands over my head. “This is ridiculous,” I said. He looked up. “What is ridiculous?” “These questions. One of them is asking whether I’ve had an abortion. What kind of stupid question is that?” “Like I said,” he reiterated, “these are possible questions… questions to get you off guard, to get you angry, mad, to make sure that you are put off your game.” “Well, I’m surely put off my game by these questions,” I said. “What do you want me to say in court when they ask me all these questions?”

Maybe this time I would be able to figure out the difficult puzzle. On second thought, I asked myself, what if thinking about this really made things worse for me? What if I go wild and out of control again? What if I thirst for blood and go on a killing spree? I stood in the bathroom and considered my options. It's a lot of 'what ifs' that I couldn't allow to happen.

Either way, I was left with no other choice but to play along. Tapping my foot, I silently juggled all the questions I could ask them. Could it be as simple as asking which door was safe? No, that wouldn’t work. Emmett, God of Truth, would point to one door whilst Kobah, God of Lies, would point to another. Seeing as I only had one question each, I couldn’t squander them trying to figure out which God was which. But, wait. An idea popped into my head. I quickly did the mental math and swallowed, stifling a squeal. This could work…

“Exactly what is it that I’m thinking?” ***

A person who will search through the truth with her bare hands if she has to. She is not about to explode. She is not about to cry. She is not about to turn away. She is thinking. Thinking is worse. Thinking is slow. Thinking is quiet. Thinking means she will not let anything slide through without being examined. And the truth I have just given her is not small. It is not gentle. It is making her questioning everything.

, Abeer asked these questions to himself, sitting on the couch and remembering everything. There are so many questions in his mind right now with whom he is fighting but unfortunately, he has no one to answer these questions . Sometimes Time itself give answer to your unanswerable questions but till that time, your only option left is have some patience and wait till that right moment would come to you automatically. #Tbc

“Come on, go ahead” “Mph” I swallowed. Asking a question has never been this hard. " Don't take my words to heart… I'm just curious” I paused, it was a compulsory reflex action. I asked myself for the last time if it was really necessary to ask. I should ask now or never. “You give answers to my thoughts most of the time, do you read thought? Or how do you do it?” I asked and regretted immediately. Damn me! That was too straightforward!

“No, you don’t.” I scowled. “Maybe I do.” “Maybe you don’t,” he shot back, still laughing. I rolled my eyes. “Shut up, it’s your turn again.” He hummed, like he was thinking. Then—“Why don’t you let people in?” The question caught me off guard. I blinked. My heart beat a little faster. I swallowed. “That’s not fair.” “It’s twenty questions,” he said. “Nothing’s fair.” I let out a slow breath.