Saddest Books Novels & Stories

Sabeerah brought them out one by one. Muslim Girl and If I Speak by Umm Zakiyyah, The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides, Three Daughters Of Eve by Elif Shafak, On Black Sister's Street by Chika Unigwe, And Then There Was None by Agatha Christie, A Time To Kill by John Grisham and finally, A History Of The Wives Of Prophet Muhammad by Umam Kahn. She picked up the last book which was actually a journal and tucked in its side were plack pencils with bookish scribbles on them.

He could no longer fool himself. Slowly, with infinite weariness, Aiden closed the leather-bound book. This was the end. He could no longer bear it. The books he loved so much could not push away the stark, raw loneliness of his existence. The study was lined with books, floor to ceiling on three of the four walls of the room. He had read every one, committed a great many to memory over the centuries. They no longer provided solace for his mind. The books fed his intellect but broke his heart.

DAISY I didn't think my life could get any worse. You read books, watch films, hear documentaries about sadistic, evil people, but you never in a million years expect yourself to be apart of it. You never expect to be called a victim, or watch all the people that mean the world to you become victims too. Is it my fault? Did I do something unforgivable at some point in my life that I hadn't realised about? Or did someone up there really feel I deserved it?

Fuck I miss them too, I hope they don't hate me. "Well I'm back to work now. I'm actually in Paris, first time that I've been back since we were here together, and my god the whole fucking town reminds me of you. I even went to that little bookstore that I took you to, trying to find a little piece of you to keep with me. I found a book that reminded me of you. It's called 'Finding the joy in the smallest things'. That's what you do, you're grateful for the little things in life, you made me grateful for the small things. I found joy in your laugh, your smile, your presence, even finding this stupid little book. But now that I've started reading it I've realised it's one of those self help b

On the morning of the fourth day, I began the "Pilgrimage." Before I left, I went to the manor's abandoned library. It was filled with moldy books and broken furniture, and the air smelled of decaying paper. But on a shelf in the deepest corner, I found a special diary. The cover was dark brown leather, with "Book of Laments" embroidered in gold thread. I opened the first page and saw elegant handwriting. "Here are recorded the stories of every soul in this manor, their pain, their despair, and their final wishes..."

My heart sank. I gestured an apology to the manager and got up to leave. Before I even reached the first-floor reception area, I heard a shrill wailing that drew the attention of many employees. "Everyone, look! Look at this heartless man!" Sloane sat on the floor with her hair all disheveled, sobbing dramatically as tears and snot ran down her face. "My sister-in-law just died, and he's already running around with other women! He kicked our whole family out, including his sick mother-in-law! He stole our family's house and sold it for cash. He's trying to destroy us!"

That was the first word she could utter and the person that was present with her was her mom when she opened her eyes. "I don't know if I should really be happy or sad mom that I'll be discharged today" Anna replied fiddling with her fingers. "Anna! Why are you saying that? of course you should be happy the doctors and nurses did their very best to keep you alive for us". "But I'm not happy I'm alive mom, deep inside my heart I'm not happy. Why should I be happy when Drake is dead? Drake wasn't meant to die, it's all my fault he's dead and I'm alive. How can I ever be happy knowing I'll never see him again? Tell me mom, how can I survive this loneliness?"

How could everything be taken away from me just when I finally felt whole? A broken wail escaped Amaris as she clutched the book to her chest, her body curling over it as if she could somehow hold onto the life that had been stolen from her. Her sobs grew louder, raw and unrestrained, filling the emptiness of her room with the sound of her heartbreak. Each breath came in jagged gasps, as if the sorrow itself were too heavy to bear, pressing down on her until she could barely breathe.

"Don't be ashamed of the fact that you read. It is a wonderful past-time and one that can expand your mind and take you on great adventures." She gave a small smile and a nod. “If the book is making you feel so deeply that you’re crying, the author did their job. The whole point of a book is to tell a story, real or made up. And the job of the author is to make you live that story. So, tell me, are these happy tears or sad tears?” She gave a sad sniffle as he gently pried the book away from her. “Sad. They were just getting a good point in their marriage, their kids were moving out, they’re falling in love again… and she just died in a car crash.”

“What’s your favourite book?” ‘Um… my favourite book… maybe the Kiss Me Softly series or In the Storm with You, but I also like Feeling Again and The Southern Brothers series. Between Us is my favourite sappiest romance, but not my favourite… Ugh, just pick one.’ “I can’t decide which book is my favourite. There are just so many that I love to choose from.” I sighed, defeated by my inability to decide on just one. My brain was so stressed that I was sure steam was coming out of my head with how hard I was thinking.