Really Sad Books Novels & Stories

Maybe it was the approach of death for the second time that made me so calm, but my mind suddenly wandered to Patrick's locked room. I waded through the rising water and kicked the door open without hesitation. Inside, the room was filled—wall to wall—with memories of him and Victoria. I let out a dry, mocking laugh. In the past, I had only ever seen that kind of thing in TV dramas. I used to think it was romantic, so deeply emotional. Nonetheless, when my own husband was one doing it, all I felt was disgust. I walked further in and started looking through their shared belongings. There were gifts from their younger days—a watch, dried flowers, bracelets, and so on.

⸻ Because he kept choosing people over destiny. ❤️ ⸻ 🌙 The Unfinished Story The woman looked down at her book. ⸻ For the first time… Sadness appeared in her eyes. 💔 ⸻ “There’s a problem.” ⸻ The library grew silent. ⸻ Everyone felt it immediately. ⸻ Something was wrong. ⸻ Very wrong. ⸻ 🌙 The Final Book The unfinished book slowly opened. 📖 ⸻ Words appeared across its pages.

“Quiet doesn’t mean unbothered. Just good at hiding it.” We fell into silence. The only sound was distant thunder rumbling above ground. I wondered how long we’d be down here. Minutes stretched. My mind wandered to how close he was. How alone we were. “Tell me something,” I said finally. “Why’d you become a librarian? You don’t seem like the type who likes being stuck behind a desk all day.” Mr. Kane exhaled softly. “Books don’t talk back. They don’t expect small talk. I like the order. And the stories. What about you? History major with a focus on obscure trade? That’s not common.”

Yessica asked, "or are you pretending to look busy so your teacher leaves you alone?" The girl looked up. Suspicious. "Both." "Fair." Yessica pulled a slim volume from the shelf. "Try this one. She writes like she's angry about things she's not supposed to be angry about." The girl turned the book over. Read the back. "Is it sad?" "Parts of it. But it's the kind of sad that makes you feel less alone." The girl bought it with her own money. Five pounds she dug out of a coat pocket.

She paused, taken aback by Arielle’s sudden enthusiasm. “Even if it means Mom crying all night,” Estelle chimed in from across the room, rolling her eyes dramatically. Crystal shot her a mock glare and defended herself. “You don’t understand the beauty of a good book. So what if it’s sad? If the author can move you to ugly tears, it means they have written something truly special.” She turned back to Arielle, her expression softening. “That’s what makes this book so good.” “I couldn’t agree more,” Arielle said, nodding fervently. Her eyes sparkled with admiration. “Maa, have you tried Chains of Desires by the same author? If you loved this one, there are so many others you’d enjoy!”

This was my last hope. “This is my last hope! This fucking study is…” I would have roared, body trembling and palms sweating when my gaze fell on the bookshelf. “Maybe I'll find a book that will help with my madness after this.” I sighed, giving up. I began to rummage through the covers, hoping for a title that would catch my attention. Shawn seemed to read a lot of books on self-growth and improvement. He also read a few about redemption but when I found one titled: ‘The Weightiness of Guilt’, something about it drew me closer.

I want to quote Hazel Grace Lancaster, the main character of the famous book The Fault in Our Stars by John Greene, when she said that "depression is the side effect of dying". Indeed it is. My aunt wasn't literally on the brink of death. But ever since Allen had died, she appeared to be so every day. I want to mention another quote I saw on the internet. It was something about being sad, and it goes, "Suicide doesn't kill people, sadness does".

Love, caring for someone, he was realizing, could sometimes be the hardest battle of all. Caitlin walked on the sand, barefoot, alongside the crashing waves, Ruth beside her. The day grew overcast, and the strong wind pushed back her hair. She had never felt so sad. Just at the moment when she thought she’d finally found peace, had finally found true love, she had discovered that he didn’t truly love her the way she thought he had. She’d been so stupid. Living in a fantasy all this time.

BIOGRAPHY Mercedes M. Yardley is a dark fantasist who wears stilettos, red lipstick, and poisonous flowers in her hair. She is the author of the short story collection Beautiful Sorrows, the novellas Apocalyptic Montessa and Nuclear Lulu: A Tale of Atomic Love and Little Dead Red, and the novels Nameless: The Darkness Comes and Pretty Little Dead Girls: A Novel of Murder and Whimsy. She often speaks at conferences and teaches workshops on several subjects, including personal branding and how to write a novel in stolen moments. Mercedes lives and works in Sin City with her family and menagerie of Strange and Unusual Pets. You can reach her at www.abrokenlaptop.com.

So after eating breakfast, which a girl bought to me, I was staring at the riddle. After no luck, I tried to match the riddle with my life. 'I am what sometimes bring you joy and sometimes sadness. I am what you consider useless after sometime. But I always leave an impact on you. And this time, im here with a secret. Who am I' What bought me happiness and sadness at the same time? Book. What did I consider useless after sometime? Myself. What leaves an impact on me? Book. Book: 2/3 Myself: 1/3