Schizophrenia Writing Style の小説・ストーリー

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting. Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it. Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method. If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf. Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault." But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying. When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again. "She was the one who stole your money!" In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner. "Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up." Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"

I watched Ryan die. So how is Ben wearing his face? Six years ago, I watched my best friend--and secret crush--splatter all over the pavement. He died. I saw him. Yet, in the back of my mind, I've never stopped looking for him. Seeing him in crowds, in the classroom, in my dreams--and my nightmares. It's cost me everything--my identity, my sanity, and maybe my life. So when I walk into class to see a man who looks exactly like Ryan standing before me, I freak out again. My therapist tells me to stay away from Ben. He's no good for me. I'll end up back in a padded room. But I have to know the truth. Is Ben really Ryan? That's not possible. But Ben has scars--real ones and metaphorical ones. If Ben is Ryan, why doesn't he just tell me? Is he trying to drive me crazy? Or worse--is he trying to kill me? The Boy Who Died is the first romantic suspense novel from bestselling romantacy author Bella Moondragon writing as B. Moon. If you love romantic suspense, are a fan of Colleen Hoover, Gillian Flynn, Christopher Greyson, or Paula Hawkins, you won't want to miss this page-turner!

Note: This book has two stand-alone stories with happy endings. If Book 1 isn’t your style, jump to Book 2 at Chapter 69! BOOK 1: Adrian & Emily Blackwood "You look like a beggar; don’t bother me," Adrian Blackwood sneered when Emily St. Claire bumped into him after learning her husband cheated with his pregnant ex-fiancée. Little did Adrian know, he'd one day beg this hot divorcee for love. Emily thought she had it all—until she walked in on her husband moaning another woman’s name on their fifth anniversary. Shattered but not broken, she vows to dismantle the empire he built on lies. Enter Adrian Blackwood—the ruthless billionaire who bends the world to his will. “I’ll let you drain me dry,” Emily tells him, determined to reclaim her life and get revenge. But as passion ignites, revenge takes a back seat to redemption. Will their dark pasts consume them, or can they find love amid the chaos? BOOK 2: Vincent & Claire Everglow “I gave you everything,” Claire whispered, clutching her belly as the TV announced Vincent Everglow’s engagement to the world’s sweetheart, Layla Vanroe. Two weeks ago, Vincent knelt before her with a promise ring. “When I’m ready, I’ll marry you,” he said. But now, Claire is pregnant and alone, discarded like a secret. Vincent’s betrayal cut deep, but Claire swore to move on. So why does her heart betray her when their paths cross again? Why does Layla seem desperate to keep them apart? Love doesn’t follow rules, but when lies and betrayal threaten their fragile bond, Claire and Vincent must decide: will they fight for each other or walk away forever!

“You shouldn’t have disobeyed me, Hazel.” His voice came out hard and husky and she thrived at the soothing undertone that sent chills down her spine, her pussy, already gaining lots of wetness. “I am sorry Daddy, baby girl needed some alone…” she tried to explain, but his next action shut her up. He flung her over the bed like she weighed nothing, her face pressing into the pillow, while her ass positioned into the perfect doggy style he craved for. “I am going to punish you so fucking well, momma. I am going to fuck you hard till you no longer feel your legs, momma. Hazel gulps down the hitches in her throat at the thought of his 9 inches-thick, cock riding her tight cunt, to pleasure. Without any warning, Hazel felt his dick tearing throw her, as he made one rough thrust. “Oh my fucking goodness….” her words trailed into a moan, while his hands found the most adore part of her body, her waist, Pulling her backward, he began to thrust hard, and with each thrust, he got rewarded with moans that made him want to do more! Hazel had just gained admission to her favorite university in the city of Washington, she is forced to live with her father's most trusted young friend all in the name of protection. Hazel eventually finds herself in the bed of the man she claims she hates, the one who is to protect her from the outside world, after one foreplay, Hazel and Axel refuse to keep their eyes off each other. However, it didn’t end up as just a Lustful feeling. Will their love stand the test of time, in a world where fans criticize whoever goes intimate with their idol?

Emelia's home from college and she's done pretending to be a good girl. The second her mother's car pulls out of the driveway for a two-hour appointment, the bratty little tease makes her move. Wearing nothing but a soaked black thong, she struts into the living room, tits bouncing, and plants herself right between her stepdad Marcus's legs. "Tick-tock, Daddy," she purrs, slowly peeling the thong down her thighs so he can see how obscenely wet her tight pussy already is. "Mom's gone for two hours... but I only need fifteen minutes to climb on that thick married cock and ride you like a desperate little slut." Marcus tries to resist. He really does. But Emelia just smirks, spreads her legs, and starts rubbing her dripping cunt against the massive bulge in his pants. "I've been dreaming about this for months," she whispers, grinding harder. "I want you to stretch me open, Daddy. I want you to ruin my pussy and pump me so full of your hot cum that it's still leaking out when Mom kisses me hello later." She leans in, biting her lip with pure brat energy. "So what's it going to be? Are you going to be a good stepdad and send me to my room... or are you finally going to let your filthy stepdaughter bounce on your cock cowgirl style and beg you to breed me before she gets back?" Because Emelia isn't leaving until she gets exactly what she wants a deep, raw, creampie from the one man who's supposed to protect her. Some lines should never be crossed. Emelia's about to ride right over them.

Work! This was one word. The word that Lola's life revolved around. when her mother gets sick and needs Surgery. Lola and her sister have to work harder than they do to pay her hospital bill with help and support from their friends. Well this was the plan till She fell in love with a certain Young master. The young master is smitten by his maid. What do they say about dating your boss?. **** The helicopter landed on a beach no one was around. Hayden carried her bridal style she looked ahead and saw a candle light dinner prepared. She was a normal girl and it tickled her fantasies. Lola his cheeks Hayden sat her down and sat opposite her. “You wanted to tell me something” Hayden asked Lola walked over to him and sat on his legs. She held his hand and took in a deep breath “So I have been thinking about us lately and I want to tell you…… I love you" Hayden was stunned looking at her. “Hey" Lola said waving her hand in his face “Fine I'll just take my words back" “Say it again" Hayden said “I love you” Lola repeated cupping his face in her hands “Again” “I love you Hayden” she said his lips. Hayden felt so joyful looking at her. He had waited for her to say those words willingly for what felt like forever “Happy birthday my love" Hayden said leading her to the cake which had a 20 with candles on it. “What are you waiting for? Make a wish and them out" Lola looked at Hayden if only he knew hee wish this afternoon was for him to be here. She closed her eyes making a wish before blowing out the candles.

The day I announced I was quitting writing, the entire internet celebrated. Everyone except my girlfriend's rumored boyfriend, the famous mystery author, Bryan Vega. In a short video, he looked genuinely regretful. "This is all a misunderstanding. I’ve always admired Kobi’s work, and I hope he’ll come back for the sake of his readers." I turned off my phone and ignored him completely. In my previous life, the web novel I wrote was identical to the mystery novel he published. People online called me a plagiarist and wished death on my whole family. I tried to defend myself, posting my drafts, outlines, and timestamps. Yet, it didn't matter. The last edit timestamp on his document was ten minutes earlier than mine. Just those ten minutes destroyed me. The messages never stopped. Strangers flooded my inbox with insults. Some even showed up at my house and threw paint on the walls. Years of nonstop harassment dragged me into depression. My parents tried to clear my name, but obsessed fans hunted them down and murdered them using methods copied straight from his novel. In the end, on the very day his book won a major award, I sealed my windows and burned charcoal, ending my life. And then, I opened my eyes again. I had returned to the day my new book was supposed to be released.

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*