The Center Cannot Hold Novels & Stories

The failsafe was using the near-total severance to press harder than it ever had, trying to finish what the core had started. “It’s almost gone,” he rasped. “I can feel you only in the center. Everything else is dark. The core is isolating the last of it.” I stepped in front of him, both hands on his face, forcing him to look at me even as the black tried to erase the recognition. “Then we hold the center with everything we have left. Right now.”

“I can feel them. They’re not… decorative. They want something.” Cael’s mouth curved, just barely. Not a full smile, just a whisper of one. His eyes narrowed with focus, the way they did in training right before a correction landed. “They’re waiting for you to trust your centre of gravity,” he said. “You’re still thinking like the ground is the only thing that holds you up.”

Didn't matter. "So no," I said. "I won't hold you. I won't contain you. I won't be your stable center. Because I'm not stable. I'm not a center. I'm the one who walked out. The one who said no. The one who—" The mirrors cracked. Not all. One. Then another. Then three more. Shattering from the center outward. Like ice. Like the system breaking under its own weight. The copies screamed. Synchronized. Seven voices, one sound. Then not synchronized. Seven different sounds. Seven different pains.

“Because it has its center.” “And?” I demanded. “And you become the center,” he replied. “Everything binds to you.” Kieran laughed softly. “Finally,” he purred. “A world that knows who to kneel to.” My throat tightened. “This isn’t power. It’s a trap.” Kieran leaned close, breath cold. “Power is always a trap,” he whispered. “You just decide who it traps.” I tried to summon ash again—to slam him back, to break his hold—

Cesare didn't say a word and simply drove away. It was a rainy night, and I couldn't get a ride. The roads were slippery, and I fell, slicing my calf with a wound nearly ten inches long. I lay there for what felt like forever before I could even move. Once the pain subsided, I limped and gritted my teeth, walking four hours back to my apartment. After tending to my wound, I saw his message. [Stop obsessing over one person. There are plenty of fish in the sea.] At dawn, I burned that suitcase downstairs, letting eight years of love turn to ash.

I sighed, hoping I wouldn't get the job so I won't have to deal with such a little monster. I held a heavy look of shame as I walked towards Jenkins. He hurried towards me, holding my hand. “What happened? You made me really scared.” “I…I…I needed to use the toilet.” I stuttered as I lied. Vincent's face was clearly indifferent. He didn't say anything about the club, and I felt relieved that he couldn't recognize me. His slick-back hair which I noticed those nights was slightly tousled today. He dressed with loose black pants and a white custom shirt.

He stirred up still waters, tangled two lines that were never meant to cross, knotting them into something inextricable. … "Keith, why are you just sitting there? Cut some fruit for Teresa!" Sitting on the couch in Keith’s family’s living room, I could hardly believe how completely my plans had fallen apart. A sudden outbreak had thrown everything into chaos. My best friend, who already made it back home, told me the city had reported dozens of new cases overnight, triggering a full lockdown. I had no way of leaving. And since neither of our parents knew Keith and I already broke up, they agreed that I should just stay at his place for the holidays.

Alam din niyang hindi na ito magagawang maayos pa. Hindi na mapapakiusapan dahil kasamaan at paghihigante na lang ang nasa puso ng mga ito. "Ano ba talaga ang kailangan mo sa amin?" Pilit na pinalakas ni Yesha ang kaniyang loob. Hindi pa nga na-d-discharge ang anak niya tapos mayroon na naman silang bagong problema.

Harmony I was trying to prevent myself from shaking while I was staring at my laptop. I don’t know what to feel about a post on Friendbook related to me. While I was trying to calm down, I continued to stare at a photo posted with a mocking caption. It was me, standing on a stage while in the midst of holding back my tears. The caption says, "Wow, look at your dumb rich girl stuttering through a debate. Is that all you can do? "

“I can’t believe I failed to notice that we have a freaky classmate in this class.” “Shh. She might be a stalker. You don’t want to be stalked by her, right?” I am not a stalker. Cent felt the comforting hiss of the shadows as it patted her shoes. Smiling bitterly, Cent bit back her tears. They are right with one thing though. I am weird. Cent wished to run away from this class, but if she did, she would lose the only purpose that was worth living for her. If she ran away, she would need to adjust again to the new environment. And being new meant being the center of the attention. Cent hated that thought so she needed to steel herself to maintain being the wallflower of Julliard.