Self-mutilation Book Novels & Stories

Not only did the book contain a sketch of Nathan, but it also contained some of Crystal’s most intimate thoughts. If Nathan read them, there was no telling what he would do. Crystal knew that it had been foolish to write all of her intimate thoughts down, but journaling had always helped her think. It had been a close call, though, and as much as she hated the thought of it, she knew that it would be best if she destroyed the book. She brought it outside and threw it in the fire pit. She stood over it for a long time, but she could not bear the thought of destroying it.

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.

Little did I know, the spark was about to become a raging inferno, courtesy of something far beyond the mortal realm. It started on a rainy Friday night. I’d come home exhausted from a long week, my blouse clinging to my skin from the downpour outside. I kicked off my heels, letting them thud against the hardwood floor, and poured myself a glass of merlot. The apartment felt emptier than usual; my last girlfriend had left months ago, citing my “workaholic tendencies” as the reason. Truth be told, I missed the warmth of a body next to mine, the soft curves and whispered promises in the dark. To distract myself, I rummaged through the old box of junk in my closet— relics from my rebellious pha

And he was addicted to his little girl’s tight pussy. This was only the first story in the book of our sins. There were ninety-nine more ways to damn ourselves still waiting. And I could not wait to fall even deeper.

"This book is about a girl who sold herself to a stranger. It is about a man who bought her and fell in love with her. It is about fear and hope and love and loss. But most of all, it is about finding the courage to be yourself." She looked at Ezra. His eyes were wet. "I wrote this book because I needed to heal," she said. "But I am publishing it because I want to help others heal. I want to show people that it is okay to be scared. It is okay to fall apart. It is okay to ask for help. And it is okay to love, even when it terrifies you." The crowd applauded. Vienna stepped down from the podium. Ezra pulled her into his arms.

Warning: This includes self-harm. Read at your own risk. Nalya The ache in my chest grew, and my wolf was silent. I couldn't feel her anymore after she said she needed some time to accept the rejection like he wanted. I cried when I remembered my mate rejected me. I tried to sleep off the pain in my heart, but it was still there. I got a razor blade and cut my inner thighs. It was a habit of mine growing up. Self-injury helped me cope with emotional pain and sadness. It brought me a sense of calm and relief. I made the same pattern I always did, going deeper and deeper into my skin this time. I sighed in relief as I continued my action. I closed my eyes, feeling better now. I threw the razor

Like they are in the storyline. - Again: I would like to warn everyone that this book is about AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, mentally and physically. So that means that I will be going into depth about all the manipulation and grooming that comes along with situations like these. At times you may hate Amber, or you may even relate to her if you have been in a similar situation as her. But again, PROCEED WITH CAUTION. ~ Prologue: My whole life, I never really knew what it meant to lose yourself.

Broke the vow on our matrimonial bed. He should have told me; he should have told me not to adopt him. Why did he do this to me? Why did he embarrass me like this? My phone rang; I didn't bother to check who called. I don't want to listen to bullshit from anyone. “Everyone hates me!” I yelled at the empty room. I drank, and I was drunk for days. Gwendolyn took care of David. I don't want him to see me like this. “What did I see? Who was that? No, no, it can't be.” “Donald? You have to kill me!” I shouted at the empty room.

"That's a little sad." His brow went up, a fraction. "Sad?" "Books are not merely escape," she clarified. "They're mirrors. You learn aspects of yourself you didn't even realize you were missing.". Julian’s lips twitched in what could’ve been a smirk—or maybe it was just a reflex. “I’m not missing anything.” “I doubt that,” Lena replied without missing a beat. He blinked. The audacity of it should have irritated him. Most people didn’t talk to him like that. They softened themselves. Watched their words. But she… didn’t flinch.

But sometimes, I think I like driving myself too far, a point where I wouldn't be able to reach back. My thumb stuck at the delete button, and in the last, I withdraw it. I couldn't do it. I needed to see it again and again, to see what people actually thought about me. What they say behind my back or what was the real truth of everything. I like tormenting myself with the things that made me feel bad. What type of person do that to themselves? Someone knocked on the door, pulling me out of my thoughts which were going wild. I was glad someone knocked. Muttering a little come in, dad came in with a stern face.