The Long Road Home Novel Novels & Stories

Every sound felt sharp even the revving engines, the scrape of a gravel, my pulse… everything. I rode through the streets with no destination, just trying to breathe. Trying to remember who the hell I was before the blood, before prison, before the bikers. But I barely recognised the shadow I had become. Driving aimlessly, I ended up back at the clinic. I just wanted to see something that wasn’t drowning in violence. Something clean and human. Noah was outside, leaning against the wall, smoking under the flickering streetlight. The glow lit half his face, shadowed the other, and somehow he looked more tired than I remembered.

“Yes, a ride home would be much appreciated.” Booker nodded and waved his hand toward the roll-up door. “Nice to meet you,” I said to Mack, and headed outside. “You too, babe,” Mack said to my back. Booker led me to his Ford F-150, and I turned to face him. “Can I borrow your phone please?” “What?” “Your phone. May I borrow it for a second?” He reached into his pocket and handed it to me. “Knock yourself out.” I stepped in front of the truck and took a photo of it, along with the license plate, texting the photos to Kim so she’d know who was driving me home and when I was leaving. At least if he did murder me, they’d be able to track down my killer.

It was a natural instinct, born in the depths of one's heart to persist in lingering inside and would rear its head whenever the transmigrator felt like he was already okay to stay in the current world. No matter how one denies it, it was a fact that even if one had no ties remaining to that place, the concept of home was not something they could easily brush off. The longing in their hearts would prevent them from fully integrating into the new world… They would always think of the inerasable past. It was the most painful kind of home-sickness. But the question was, in novels… was it always that easy to return to where they came from? No. Fate would not always be kind enough to let one trav

I was drowning myself in sorrow when my dad snapped me out of the trans, with the simple - we are here. It was late around 3 or 4 am I stepped out of the car and looked around. I recognize the house from some old pictures we have, it is well kept and a classic two-story house. White paneling, blue wooden doors, not a large front porch, a white wooden fence with the exit directly to the street.

Back then, Ruby was always dreaming about the capital city of Norcrown. "Silas, if our company ever really makes it big, let's move our headquarters to Norcrown! But I've heard office space in the financial district costs a fortune… When the time comes, let's rent an entire floor and make it grand! How does that sound?" I was still lost in thought when the car stopped in front of an estate in the heart of the city. The moment I walked in, the smell of home-cooked food greeted me. My mom ran out of the kitchen, her eyes red, and she gave me a big hug. "Silas! You're finally home! Look how thin you've gotten! Just how much have you been through out there?!"

“Maybe it’s a great thing that he isn’t here anymore and he wouldn’t suffer the bullying.” “Maybe.” Hera turned the book in line with her eyesight. Then she shuffled the sides of the pages and saw something in between the pages. “What is this?” “Hera, is that you daddy?” Cyril squinted his eyes to see who the person on the corner of the street was. “Huh?” Hera did the same thing as she closed the book and placed it back inside of her bag. “I think that’s your daddy,” Cyril said. His hand automatically waved at the person.

A few late commuters hurried past, but no one paid attention to a little girl pulling a suitcase by herself. The streetlights stretched my shadow and the suitcase's shadow long across the pavement. The truth was, I no longer remembered exactly where the children's home was. I only had a blurry sense that it was somewhere west, so I kept walking that way. By the fourth intersection, my arm ached so badly I could barely lift it. The crosswalk was wide. Halfway across, the suitcase wheel caught in a dip in the road. I pulled, but it would not move. So I crouched down and tried to lift it free.

The Long Road Home Lisa was fifteen minutes into the drive home from the Riverside Pack medical facility when she first noticed the black SUV in her rearview mirror. At first, it seemed like ordinary traffic—just another vehicle heading in the same direction on the winding mountain road that connected the territories. But as she took the first turn toward pack lands, the SUV followed, maintaining the same distance behind her despite the change in route.

RASHIDA ummuraf6 SPECIAL THANKS A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL MY READERS. YOU ALL MADE WRITING WORTHWHILE FOR ME. Thank you so very much. Please tag your friends so they can join the rollercoaster. Guys please leave your reviews let's know what you think about the whole story Thank you once again for reading the Homewrecker. We meet again in my new story. THE GRIMORE The cover and blurb is in the next chapter so do check it out.

A silent rebellion against the unspoken rules of our home. Sometimes, after school, if Zane was distracted, Zye would linger near the main gate. Morison, bless his heart, would find an excuse to be busy nearby. Zye would talk, her voice soft, about her day, about her dreams of far-off places. I’d listen, offering quiet observations. Those moments, few and far between, were oxygen. They reminded me that not everyone in the world, not even in that house, saw me as an infection of poverty.