The Of Lost Things Novels & Stories

“ I have just lost my passport, my belongings and documents.” “ Then, what does that have to do with me ?” Sherman furiously asked. “ You left Clara's house simply because you caught us having fun, we didn't ask you to stupidly forget your belongings in the taxi.” Sherman yelled at him. “ You are stupid. I am not surprised to realize how foolish you are.” Ava insults him. “ The earlier the better you get this into your brain. Let it sink deep into your empty brain, that I Ava won't in any way allow you to have Clara, not even in my grave.” Ava squeezed his face, with a deep and fearful voice he said.

Or will painful truth, shatter them again? This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places and incidents are either the product of author's imagination or used on fictitious matter. Any resemblance to actual persona, living or dead are purely coincidental. Do not distribute, publish, transmit, modify, display or any derivative words from or exploit the contents of this story any way. Please obtain permission. The lost star copyright at 2021, all rights reserved to Sandyy, always choose to skip the comment box, so you will have a great time guessing the whole story.

She’d seen a lot of lost wielders, lost shadows crying in despair, begging for something to latch unto because they knew that the place where they’d be falling was their worst nightmare. “Sleep, dear child! You’ve had enough!” Marjorie breathed heavily when another series of tears trickled to her cheeks. Crouching, she wiped all of those away, caressing her hair, whispering words she didn’t even know Z would hear. She just felt compelled to say so, because she, too, had been lost a lot of times.

Everyone seemed like they were trying to disappear. Her backpack thumped heavily against her back with every step — the weight a reminder of everything she wasn't ready to lose. Notebooks filled with messy sketches of that impossible crimson bloom that haunted her thoughts. The backup phone she'd turned on after the last one died mysteriously. A few old keys she didn't even remember what they unlocked. And her oldest, most precious possession — a worn, dog - eared sketchbook she'd carried for years, pages yellowed and edges frayed.

It'd always represented my last wall of defense. "Aster, no…" Aubrey tugged at my hand, likely understanding what I was about to do. She was scared things would get out of hand, scared that her perfect family would break apart. I patted her hand and said firmly, "Some losses are necessary to keep our lives in good order, Aubrey." I slowly looked up to meet the gazes of Tristan, Anastasia, and Ophelia. With a sneer, I called out to Tristan. "Are you really sure you don't know who we are, Tristan? Are you sure you want to risk the rest of your life for these two women?"

“Things going missing. Toys. Books. Clothes. I’d put something down and it would just… disappear.” “That happens with kids,” I said gently, even though I already knew that was not what she meant. “I know,” Lydia replied immediately. “That’s what they told me too. But it didn’t stop. And it wasn’t random. It was always things that mattered to me.” My fingers curled slightly. “Did they ever come back?” “Yes,” she said, her voice dropping. “That’s the worst part.” I felt my breath hitch. “What do you mean?”

“Kaelen will find me.” The reflection’s gaze softened. “If you linger, he will forget you.” The words hit harder than a physical blow. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “He wouldn’t.” “He must,” the reflection said gently. “That is how the living survive the lost.” A tremor rippled through the realm, distorting the silver sky. Thunder echoed faintly, but not from above — from beyond. A sound that did not belong here. It was faint but familiar — the rhythm of a heartbeat that matched her own.

He mused heading to the closet. “I lost it.” I blurted. “I…I can’t find it.” “You what?” He bellowed. Something felt like it got stuck in my throat. “I didn’t exactly lose it on my own. I just couldn’t find it.” “You couldn’t find it? Are you listening to yourself, Kate? I don’t know what has gotten into you lately but I do not find it cute.” He looked vicious. “I will forgive you for stealing money from my

"And these things are bad for you." He scrunched it in his fingers and swallowed it whole. "Very nice," Miaka sneered at him. "I can do what I want you know?" They all disagreed quietly in their own ways. Only Eigen spoke up. "Careful, if you wont want me to reprogrmme you for the seventheenth time." Miaka shuggered and nodded, afraid of losing more memories. Each memory she lost was a physical pain. A hole in her empty brain and heart.

I was sure of it. Surrounding it were little things I'd lost. A fancy pen that disappeared from my locker. A spare keychain I swore I left in my bag. A napkin with my handwriting on it. A book I vaguely remembered recommending to him, sitting open like it had been read a hundred times. A chess piece from a game we played long ago, resting near the edge. I stared at it all. I already knew Damien was obsessed with me... This was something else entirely. Dragging a hand down my face, I let out a slow exhale.