Solitary Novels & Stories

The gray sky clings to the glass like a low ceiling. I place my palm flat on the glass. It is cold, so cold. A perfect barrier, invisible from the outside, impassable from within. I turn, my back to the view, and let my gaze wander over the white, impersonal, luxurious room. My new cell. Larger than anything I've ever known. Cleaner. Deader. Solitude is no longer a feeling. It is a substance. It fills the room. It seeps under the door, rises from the carpet, falls from the ceiling. It is in the stillness of the air, in the silence of the walls.

Enough. I am more alone than I want to be. I want to know. I am more alone than I want to be. The leather bag waits. I wait. I wait. I fill the space. The solitude is raw, raw and sharp, sharp and loud. Louder than the thin and fragile edge of my hope, louder than the hope I pretend to have, the hope I pretend to hold. It is louder than the fear, louder than the control, louder than me. It fills the space.

I couldn't contain my excitement. Turning eighteen for most wolves is a big deal. It's when we usually shift into our wolf forms for the first time and meet our inner wolves. I'm even more excited than most, because I've been Mute since I was born. I had been like this since I was a baby, wrapped in the arms of my dead mother. She had been killed by a pack of lone wolves. Lone wolf... A lone wolf is a wolf that lives and hunts alone, outside of a pack, they don't belong to any Pack. This can happen for various reasons, such as being driven out of a pack for multiple good or bad reason, being unable to find a pack, or preferring a solitary lifestyle.

Ariana I left a farewell letter to my parents, which is just beside my bed, I don't know if they have seen it or not. The days wore on as I journeyed through unfamiliar lands, seeking refuge in various hostels along the way. Each night, I found myself surrounded by the laughter and intimacy of loving couples, their affectionate gestures a stark reminder of the companionship I had lost. In the hostels, I watched as couples shared tender glances and whispered sweet words, their closeness a testament to the warmth of their bond. This relieved my loneliness of traveling alone.

We’re always worried about the same things. “I am.” At her honesty, I could feel the smile growing. “You’re not alone anymore. You’ll be fine.” I’m waiting for her reply but she remains silent. I’m about to call out to her when the sound of her clearing her throat stops me. “No. I’m still alone.” “Huh? August is with…” “You’re not here.” “...” W-what did she just say?!

I instinctively rubbed my belly, it was protruding already. As the door closed behind Max, leaving me alone on the cold clinic bed, a profound sense of solitude settled upon me. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as if to confine my restless spirit. I poked at Sapphire, my wolf, whose emotions held an empathetic understanding within me. "I feel so lonely," she whispered to me, her voice barely audible in the quiet room. Sapphire's emotions reverberating within our connection. "I understand, Sapphire. We have always been each other's solace, but even I cannot fill the void of human companionship."

We were both a sore sight, sitting on the bathroom floor crying our eyes out with a tub full of bloody water, about three feet away from us. "We would have handled it, Adam. It's not just you. You're not alone in this. I'm here, Faxon is here and Salem is here. We're a team and we look out for each other. We're going to do this together, remember that. It's not you against the world Adam, It's us." I raised my shaky hand and wiped the tears on his face. His pale lips trembled and he hugged me, sobbing. "I'm so sorry Abby, I wasn't thinking. Even Faxon tried to stop me, but I was too consumed in my pain that I didn't listen to him and realized how selfish and self-centered I was being. I'm so

That's it, that was the moment she knew, he was the man she would feel proud to call hers. Byron knew his love was one-sided. He knew, to whom did her heart belong to. Yet, he couldn't give up. His heart didn't allow him to. Since she was still single, he had a little ray of hope peeking out from the dark clouds. He just had to keep on trying. Because he had decided, Scarlet was going to be his. By tit or by tat. ...

“Call can suffer for you and me and Newt and Deets and anybody else that don’t want to do it for themselves. It’s been right handy having him around to assume them burdens all these years, but if you think he’s doing it for us and not because it’s what he happens to like doing, then you’re a damn fool. He’s out there sitting behind a chaparral bush congratulating himself on not having to listen to Bol brag on his wife. He knows as well as I do there isn’t a hostile within six hundred miles of here.” Bolivar stood over by the wagon and relieved himself for what seemed to Newt like ten or fifteen minutes. Often when

Dane spoke out, almost smashing his walkie talkie. "Calm down Dane, am sure they're on there way back, maybe they just went a little side tracked." Leslie, said unbothered. "It's getting dark, you know what. Fuck this trip, fuck this forest. Am heading back to the bus." Dane got up on his feet. "Easy now cowboy... You can't go alone, if you wanna go back. Fine, but you have to wait till Helena and Larry get back." "Wait till they get back you say, they are not answering their walkies, it's taken more than twenty minutes they left. And you want me to sit here like a statue, waiting for those two love birds, who knows if they aren't fucking eachother somewhere in this forest."