Silent Sorrow Novels & Stories

But with each passing day, these whispers became louder, more persistent, making it harder for her to ignore them. Jane's silent love for Mike was a ticking time bomb, a storm brewing beneath the calm surface. Each laugh, each conversation, and each shared moment added to the intensity of her feelings, pushing her closer to the edge. As she stood on the brink of this emotional turmoil, Jane was about to embark on an extraordinary journey - a journey of love, of unspoken confessions, and of silent whispers of longing. Her story was just beginning. This was her story - the story of a girl who loved her best friend in silence, the story of silent whispers of love.

But when you’re already there you will the happiest person alive as you see that after a long years of drought and suffering your deserted heart will finally receive the rain that it’s waiting for, a rain of tears from both of you because you finally reunited, again. *** “I’m sorry,” I whispered near her ear. “I’m sorry that I made you suffer like that. I am supposed to be your shield from pain. I am supposed to be the one fighting for you, comforting you and making you strong from day to day. I’m sorry that you have to suffer and gone through al those painful days without me. But now that I’m here again, I will stay by your side and will try harder to remember the best memories we have had

a voice called, distant but familiar. I didn’t have the strength to respond. My eyes fluttered shut as the darkness took over. Finally, silence.

▄︻デ══━一 COLTON HAYES💥 I never thought silence could feel this loud. The only sound was the soft trickle of water from the lake behind me and the occasional rustle of trees as a breeze pushed through the branches. The sky hung heavy with gray clouds, low and suffocating. The storm had passed, but it left behind this thick, unmoving grief—the kind that settled deep in the chest and refused to let go. And now Vanessa stood beside me, her phone in hand, eyes glued to the screen as the video played.

Riley Silence had weight. It didn’t feel like peace; it felt like a burial. The silence pressed against my eardrums, my chest, and that hollow, aching place beneath my ribs where Kael’s heartbeat had lived for months. It wasn't just an absence—it was a surgical removal. I felt like a limb that had been severed but refused to stop itching, my soul still reaching out for a connection that had been cut to the quick. I staggered as we moved through the labyrinthine backstreets of Dalth. My boots splashed through puddles of grey rainwater, the sound unnervingly loud in the quiet. The city felt different now. It didn't feel curious anymore; it felt irritated.

Desperately. And everything goes silent.

"Mum, dad let's leave them alone." Mr. Vance and Kate smiled at me as they existed the room and left us alone. Alexis didn't look at me as she continued staring outside. I walked over to her and just stood there in silence rocking back and forth on the heels of my boots. She was dressed in one of those ridiculous hospital gowns with a cloth wrapped around her head so people wouldn't see that she'd lost her hair. "I love you and I need you to know how much before I go into that operating room," she spoke, finally breaking the unbearable silence. "You don't have to say it back to me because I know you still love her."

Wife… Malcolm sighed, it seemed he was getting too used to the term—and he seemed to love it. Just then, his phone rang and at the sight of the caller’s ID, he quickly signaled the whipping to stop. He ordered that Yolanda be gagged to avoid making a noise, soon, the noise-filled tunnel was as silent as a graveyard. Only then did Malcolm answer the phone, making a low growl to indicate to who it was that he was listening. He didn’t say a word but minutes later, his face turned grave and like lightning, he was gone.

“I already am.” The whisper left her lips like the ghost of a promise that would never stop bleeding. And then everything inside her shattered. Her legs gave out. She didn’t fight it. She sank slowly to the floor, the cold seeping into her skin as her fingers trembled against the wood. The silence swallowed her. Not the soft kind..the violent kind. The kind of silence that screamed. The kind that came after a funeral, after a gunshot, after a door slams and doesn’t open again.

And she responded with poem which he taped one to the fridge. It began: “Here, quiet smells like peat and sorrow.” We all stopped to read it,none of us spoke about it. Some silences are holy. One day Matteo got a call from no one. He stated at his phone for one hour straight after,he kept mute and still then later he told me it was “Someone from before and they aid they were sorry.” I asked if he believed them. He didn’t answer,he didn't need need to as we both knew sorry comes in different languages. And some of them aren’t words.