Silence Is Golden Novels & Stories

You mustn't shield her, or else she'll be taken away by the Silverlune Guards. I tried to punch Dad angrily, but my fists passed through the air uselessly. "Bad Dad! That's not me at all! Have you forgotten? You tore the pocket in that shirt, and Mom stitched a little rabbit in that spot. The shirt in the video doesn't have a rabbit!" Mom, who had been laughing just a moment ago, suddenly fell silent. She stared at Dad, her eyes filled with contempt. "Call the Silverlune Guards here, then," she said. "I'll wait here for them."

she signed. She grinned as Jacqueline took out a wheel chair taking her out for a stroll she hoped people were not there meanwhile Jacqueline wished people where there so she could see and know that the Silent Moon had people who loved her and wanted her to stay with tem with no fear and no stress. They all wanted her to heal and she sure was going to heal as she had started telling Xavier her story it meant she was already getting there.

Lightsticks beamed brightly in the darkness, flooding the space with vibrant hues. "Silence speaks for those who listen." Kyle's magnetic voice came through as he jumped down the swing. The music gradually grew louder. "This song tells the story of a boy who took forever to understand the whispers of his silence, finally losing the girl he loves," he continued. "Hope you'll enjoy it."

After a short while, Dylan got back with two cups of drinks and placed the tray on his desk table. They both took a seat on his bed and that was all it took to start the train of awkwardness. Kyle held his knees nervously and pursed his lips. **Why are we quiet? Say something Kyle.** His eyes went up to the room and he still couldn't get over the numbers gold taking up a part of Dylan's wall. He had noticed it after Dylan stepped out, yet the gold Medals and trophies he couldn't dream a quarter of still got him speechless.

There's something fragile about how quiet the room is. My phone rings. Timothy. I watch the name blink on the screen, and my fingers tap the green button before I can stop myself. His voice comes through the speaker, too high and yet so soft, “I miss you alrea—” I press the red button so fast, my fingers trembling. My father coughs, a sharp sound that makes my blood run cold. Did he hear?

“You like it, baby? You like how my cock thrusts into you? Tell me you like it.” Tears slipped from the corners of Elara’s eyes and tracked into her hair. The moans she released were pleasureless, automatic, the sounds a body made when it had learned that silence could be more dangerous than compliance. Her mind detached and drifted backward through the wreckage of the day and the years that had led here.

Isla Hart I never knew silence could feel like warmth. Not the heavy silence I once lived in, the kind that filled the Blake house like smoke, suffocating and stale, but this one. This soft, golden quiet that blanketed Alexander’s lakeside home the morning after I had said yes. My yes.

Silas’s voice cut through the psychic roar, a jagged blade of sound. He was standing ten feet away, his legs braced against the stone, his hands outstretched as he poured his own Void-essence into the foundation of the barrier. The golden light was trying to find the cracks in our armor, trying to whisper to the wolf within him that the dark was a lie. But Silas was a pillar of roaring shadow, his eyes twin pits of absolute black that swallowed the golden reflection before it could take root. Below us, the valley was a nightmare of contrasting brilliance. Where the golden haze touched our violet mist, the air crystallized into jagged shards of "null-glass"—a byproduct of two opposing infinit

He was still inside, probably finishing his drink, probably telling himself that I just needed a minute to calm down. I reached into my evening bag and pulled out the small, leather-bound journal I had started keeping. I flipped to the last entry and picked up the pen tucked into the spine. August 12th, I wrote, my hand surprisingly steady. Tonight, I realized that silence isn't just a lack of noise. It’s a weapon. And Gideon is an expert at wielding it.

The being trembled. And for the first time, it spoke. A single word. "Grandmother." Silence. Absolute silence. The city froze. The Second Silence stared. The Third Silence stared. The Architects stared. Because the First Silence had never spoken before. Not once. Not in all recorded existence. Origin smiled warmly. "There you are." The First Silence began crying. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Quiet tears. Ancient tears. The kind that come after carrying loneliness for too long. Origin embraced it gently.