Stumble Over Words Novels & Stories

I stumbled over my words, completely flustered. "Um, um, he's not—I'm not—he's not…" My voice kept tangling up in itself, and I could barely form a coherent sentence. My cheeks were burning, and I could feel everyone around us stealing glances at the commotion I was unintentionally creating. Across the table, Emerson seemed entirely too entertained by my struggle. He leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised, lips twitching as though he were fighting back a laugh. It was infuriating.

I wasn't just a runaway; I was a missing piece of their machinery, and Ginny wasn't the type to let a piece just walk away. ​ The silence stretched until it felt too loud, pressing in on my ears. I needed to fill it with something, anything. If I’d had my notepad, it would’ve been easier. Words on paper didn’t hurt. Words out loud did. So I forced myself to speak anyway, even though it felt like swallowing glass. “I… I h-have… a… a ba… ba… bad st–stu–stutter,” I said slowly, carefully, praying I could get through a few sentences without breaking apart. “It h-hurts… to sp… speak.”

I was stunned. Completely frozen in place, like time itself had fractured around me. I was stunned. Completely frozen in place, like time itself had fractured around me. The words I’d just overheard refused to settle in my mind. They scattered like broken glass across my thoughts, each shard sharp, jagged, and agonizing. But the weight of them pressed down on my chest like an avalanche, threatening to crush everything I thought I knew. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. And I couldn’t speak.

Without another word, I stood, biting back the sharp retort on the tip of my tongue. Grumbling under my breath, I stormed off, leaving him alone. As I rushed out, the storm in my mind raged on. How dare he speak to me like that? The words echoed in my head, a constant reminder of the humiliation I had just endured. The anger surged through me, blinding me to everything around me until—thunk—I collided with something hard, a jagged rock. The impact sent a sharp pain through my forehead, and I stumbled back, clutching the spot.

ANNELISE I shivered again at the action, which for sure was weird for a first encounter, but somehow felt so familiar. So right. So, to the point. “I…” I stuttered, lost for words. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t just lost for words. My mind was also wandering. I couldn’t make sense of what had just transpired. I couldn’t even think straight. If you asked me now how much 1+1 is, I’d say, ‘A thousand?’

Jack felt like a stupid fool, as if he made a very stupid mistake. He looked at everyone watching him with an expectant face, and in many of them, mocking smiles began to be drawn. Jack thought that he should say something immediately, and when he opened his mouth, my words came out in another frequency. In his head, they were so slow that he had to tell them multiple times to be heard, but really they just sounded like a silly stutter. “Ah… Hello… Me and me…” No idea could be reproduced clearly, but suddenly his eyes fell on hers. This made the other’s chuckle at him.

I knew we had a mountain to climb. As she began her presentation, her voice emerged as a tremulous whisper, her words jumbled like puzzle pieces refusing to fit together. Her discomfort was as conspicuous as a red flag in a snowfield, her eyes darting anxiously around the room, skirting mine as if my gaze would morph into Medusa's and turn her to stone. Her sentences fragmented, ideas ricocheted off the walls without a clear path or purpose. The narrative thread was lost in a labyrinth of missteps and stutters. Her hands fluttered like distressed birds, her body language a cacophony of unease.

It was different when someone interrupted your verbal argument, but when they disrupt your thoughts, you know they are incomparably dominant. His single word had managed to shook her to the core. She knew she had to speak before the voice asked again. She already wished for him to be mute, realising his voice alone could swirl her whole body like a cow in the tornado. She tried to speak, attempting to hide the obvious stutter of her tone. "Tara"

The words seemed to fall like a question mark, while waiting for an answer. His mask of confidence fluttered; his face slipping open onto a glimpse of uncertainty underneath. "D-dude, I'm so sorry," he stammered, the words skipping from his tongue like a scratched record, hesitant and unsure. "I must have mistaken you for someone else," he finished saying, the sentence trailing off almost at a sigh over the acknowledgment of his mistake.

he says. "I like to get dirty sometimes." It's only when Grumpy halts what he is doing and turns a dark, indecipherable expression towards me do I realize how wrongly worded my sentence is. I don't bother correcting myself. Anything I say will be a disaster. My words tumble over each other and my tongue curls when I'm flustered and nervous. Right now, I can feel both happening intensely.