Novel & Cerita Story Pages

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I died on a rainy day. The vibrant maple leaves, usually scattered across the mountainside, were nowhere to be seen because Conrad Reese couldn't wait any longer. I tumbled down the steps, blood pooling beneath me. But he wasn't satisfied. He shoved me down the stairs again and again, each time more forcefully. The pain was so intense that I could barely make a sound, but I still couldn't help but ask, "Why… are you doing this?" I didn't understand.

Suit pouted childishly at Anderson, and continued, “Do we have a deal, Mr. Anderson?” Anderson stared back and forth between Suit and the scroll. His mind was racing. The contract sounded simple enough. Straightforward, but he did not understand. ‘What did he mean by survive ten stories? Did he not say I was going to tell a story? What does survive the story mean?’ Question after question popped up into his head. He could not help himself. He had no idea exactly what it meant, but one thing was for certain; He would not move forward if he did nothing but constantly question the situation.

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The novel has 52 chapters including the prologue and epilogue. I closed my laptop before I walk out of my room, I look at Janine and Shia who are eating their chips while they are watching. “Oh, hi!” Janine greeted me when she noticed me. “You didn’t tell me that you’re going here,” I say, I sit beside her. “Is it required?” she asks, I laugh, “I’m watching with my friend, I don’t want to talk to anyone,” she added before she look at the TV again. Shia looked at Janine.

James jumped up and pointed a finger at me, his face twisted with rage. "Have you lost your mind? You want a divorce? Don't you care about your reputation? Liliana, you're fifty this year. What kind of man do you think you can find after leaving me?" James was once a top student, but now he was just a bloated, greasy man. There was nothing about him worth holding onto. I didn't respond to his taunts. Instead, I advised, "Since you cheated, you'll leave with nothing."

Chapters turned into a story. And before I could catch my breath, it was no longer a coping mechanism. It was a novel. In my story, the characters aren’t named Stacey and Noah, but anyone who truly looked could recognize us in the margins. The male lead is a basketball player with a fire in his eyes and the weight of his dreams pressing hard on his back. The female lead is older, cautious, guarding her heart like it’s glass but unable to resist the pull of something dangerous, something real.

Half a month later, in the middle of the night, my phone buzzed with a message. It was from Lex. [Audrey, I'm sorry.] I stared at it for a moment, then put the phone down. I didn't reply. Our story had ended long ago. I closed that chapter. From now on, our lives will go their own way—like two roads that'll never cross again.

it was an erotic story ,titled the hot kidnapper) I raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in my eyes. I push off from the desk and walk closer, my heels clicking on the floor. “A story, huh? You think you can just walk in here and write a tale for me? How about you show me what you’re made of first? Tell me, what’s your fantasy? What gets you going in the dark?” I lean in, my breath warm against your ear, my large breasts pressing against your arm. (Pushing the paper to you I ask you to read it aloud ,you cheeks turn a faint red as you try to explain you brought the wrong story,I press a finger to your lips shushing you and telling you to read, you read it all)

And in every stroke, every whispered memory, the walls echoed: We were always meant to see this. ✨ Would you like to continue with Part 87? Maybe Lani leaves behind her shadow sketch for another visitor to complete, or Jo starts a side project called Pages Others Left Me to Finish. The studio still welcomes every arrival, even the unexpected ones. 🪶