Novel & Cerita Stories That Are Made Up

MENTAL ILLNESS AND DISORDER SERIES This fictituos story contains words nor true statement. Names, places,occasions/events, dates, incidents are based on the author's concept. It contains foul languages and any other inappropriate actions. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME.

Mara — The Art of the Half-Truth The folder sat between them like a third person in the room. Mara had learned, in four years of becoming what Hayes had made of her, that the most effective lies were not the ones built entirely from fiction. Fiction had gaps — places where the architecture showed, where the light came through wrong and the person you were lying to felt the draft without knowing where it came from. The most effective lies were the ones built around a true thing, the way a house is built around a load-bearing wall. You constructed the fiction outward from something real, and the realness held everything up.

Kristen was so thrilled that her best friend and brother had fallen in love. They make such a great match, she thought. She didn't think that they would ever have threesomes or that Carter would fuck skanks and tell her all about it. Just like Kristen didn't think her mom really made p**n or that her dad fucked every hot woman he could only to tell her mom all the details. Those were just the naughty stories that Kristen told. And she already had an idea for her next wicked tale percolating in the back of her mind. Well, a dozen of them. So many of them, but she needed inspiration to pen them.

"Are you lying?" She chose to not answer and just hug him tighter. "Do you know what fairytales are, Zoren?" "You told me about them—made-up stories that are filled with lies to hook the viewers with their movie, right?" "Yes," she nodded. "But I haven't told you how magical and wonderful fairytales are. They are stories that can captivate your heart and stay there for a very long time, sometimes forever." "That's amazing, then." "Yeah," she nodded. "You are my fairytale."

There was one solitary, big book on a low table between them. "The title of the tale is The Binding of Autumn," he began, his voice an entrancing whisper just in harmony with the shriek of the fire. “It's the tale of a harvest god who offers a mortal woman a choice: one night of absolute freedom for one year of unimaginable riches for her people." He didn't move as his eyes met hers. "The consent is the matter at hand. It must be freely bestowed, not coerced, and whispered three times into the skin of his throat." “Do you have any idea what sort of story you're going to be reading me tonight?”

She kерt inventing ѕtоrіеѕ about situations thаt just wеrеn’t truе. It wаѕn’t just thе fantasy ѕtuff either. Shе would convince hеrѕеlf I wаѕ ѕlееріng wіth аnоthеr woman оr ѕоmеоnе owed hеr mоnеу.

he asked, his eyes sparkling with interest. Alma hesitated for a split second. She knew she couldn't tell the truth. She quickly made up a story. “I come from a small, isolated town,” she murmured, feigning distant nostalgia. She added a few details, an imaginary past, a fictional family, anecdotes she created on the spot, making sure that nothing could arouse suspicion. Ethan listened to her attentively, occasionally nodding his head, laughing at some of her supposed experiences. But, behind them, Kaelen was watching.

he asked, disappointment laced in his tone. “Tell me a story,” she said, watching as his expression shifted from disappointment to confusion. “A story?” he muttered. “What kind of story?” “Don’t you know what a story is? Bedtime stories, novels, memoirs, biographies—things like that.” “Is that a joke?” he laughed. “Your lifestyle is so boring. How does a story entertain anybody? Horror, thrillers, silly romance, history—blah, blah, blah. It’s a waste of time.”

Something that he made up in his head. Minos had a dull life growing up, but he was obsessed with telling fantastic stories. Not really being in a position to experience those kind of stories, he would sometimes make one up or exaggerate other kid's tales and claim them as his own, planting himself in the center of the narrative. Res assured, he would oftentimes be contented with simply reading every book he could find, and retelling them for others to hear.

“You scared the poor boy, dude.” That was the first response he got from Damien Lau after he finished telling the whole story. The doctor visited him today, and he served some mineral waters to him. He was just a bachelor who didn’t really care about food at home and only had mineral waters with him. Despite being a bad host, the painter still dared to pour his heart out by telling the story that bothered him since yesterday. Yeah, he had told his friend about his ‘experience’ with his student yesterday.