Romans & histoires See What I've Done Book

"I'm sorry I didn't attend your mother's funeral. I'm sorry I sent Milo away without asking you. I'm sorry I broke my promises repeatedly, then hid behind excuses. I'm sorry I kept getting tangled up with my ex and left you to suffer alone." He apologized repeatedly. His eyes were red and swollen, but he could not bring himself to look up. He placed a hand over my lower abdomen. "Does it still hurt? You never got proper rest after the miscarriage. Why didn't you tell me?" I had arranged my mother's funeral alone during the second week after my miscarriage. How could I possibly have recovered? I brushed his hand away. Then I noticed the watch on his wrist. I had bought it for him the year bef

Holding a firm grasp on it, I sit criss-crossed on the floor, making myself comfortable and ready to obtain forbidden knowledge. The book was quite small, yet it weighted on my hands. I knew how wrong and grave my actions were, yet I cannot walk away from the scene. I Caress my fingers over the book cover while thinking through what I am about to do. My conscious Unable to give a blind eye to my wrong desires neither am I willing turn away, we make a deal that I would only look at the first page but boy who was I kidding . This book belongs to: S/I, were the only words written on the first page. Feeling unsatisfied with the little information the first page gave, I moved on to the second.

I have spent enough time here already. I was about to leave when I saw it. On his liquor table. It was sitting beside the bottle, why hadn't I seen it? I picked it up and hastily flipped through the pages to page number 186. My eyes scanned through the words and they finally landed on what I was looking for. ‘It had to be done. It had to be done.’ I gasped and slammed the book close. It was real. Everything I had seen so far was real. This book just proved that.

“What the hell is going on here?” My rasping voice only accentuated the strange, forlorn silence of my home. Nothing made any sense. Nothing seemed or felt real. Hadn’t, really, since we’d discovered those two dead dogs and that altar in the clearing, and especially since yesterday morning . . . When I’d seen that damned book at The General Store. The book I’d apparently bought in a fugue state and then read multiple times without remembering anything. The book that . . . I opened my eyes, looked down and—feeling very little surprise—saw The King Wears Yellow sitting open before me on the den table.

Realization hit me as I looked up at a serious looking Alexander. "You Alexander are just as big of a manipulator as I am. We've been manipulating each other every step of the way. It seems you one upped me because I definitely said to much. To bad for you though I'm always 1000s of steps ahead and think of everything and had safety precautions up just in case. So the moment I restore this book they will activate. " I said as I flipped to the last page and restored it causing the book to illuminate power all over.

Charlotte insisted on doing it herself. “I thought you might like this one,” she said as she handed me the book. “It’s about a man who loses everything. Then…he tries to get it back together little by little.” I glanced at the cover. The title was dramatic. So I said, flatly, “Sounds dramatic.” She let out a short laugh. I never heard someone laugheed like this before. She looked so innocent and pure. Well, she was a budding she-wolf and perhaps still figuring out how the world works.

he pushes it towards me, “It’s merely a book. I want you to open it to a page, any page, and see what you notice.” I give him an uncertain sideways glance before squeezing my eyes shut as I blindly flip through the pages of the book. After a few seconds, I stop, my finger hovering over a page about halfway through. Opening my eyes a crack, I watch as Gideon tilts his head to get a better view of the page. “Interesting,” he murmurs. “Of all the pages in this book, you turn to that one.” I open my eyes the rest of the way and look down. There is a picture of a person sitting in a ring of crystals. I don’t even need to read the title at the top to know what it says.

It brushes the back of my neck and I can feel him right beside me, close enough that his scent wraps around me. My stomach knots. I keep my eyes on the shelves, forcing myself to focus on the rows of titles instead of the way my pulse won’t stop racing. I scan the books until one catches my eye. The title almost makes me laugh, ‘Screwed Up? Here’s Your Reset Button.’ How fitting. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from snickering and grab the book fast. “I think I see another one,” he utters, his voice dipping a little lower now. “Up top.”

I’m deleting my previous comments now! [So this is what really happened… Sis, I would’ve backed you even if you were wrong, but this is straight-up slander!] Mr. Bonn looked at me and asked, “Owen, what’s going on?” I shrugged casually. “Isn’t it all clearly shown in the evidence? I have a skin condition. When it flares up, it itches, and I need to scratch. That’s basic logic, isn’t it? I even bought ointment from the hospital that day. The receipts and records are there. All of it proves I wasn’t doing anything indecent.

“Anything silver.” “You realize this is insane. An hour ago we were sparring. Now we’re breaking into your father’s forbidden book collection at midnight because my eyes did something strange.” “You want to go back to bed and pretend it didn’t happen?” “No.” I pulled a book off the shelf just to have something to do with my hands. “I want to know what’s wrong with me before it happens again somewhere I can’t afford it to.” “Nothing’s wrong with you.” “You don’t know that yet either.”