The Silent Patient Book Reviews นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Theodore stares at it “…You sound like you’ve been reading psychology textbooks.” A pause “I have been observing humans.” Theodore throws his hands up “Of course you have.” Despite the terror pressing around us I smile faintly And the moment I do The heartbeat stutters Everything freezes. BOOM Silence The First Silence focuses entirely on me again. “That expression.” Its voice feels… closer now. Not physically. Emotionally “It reduces internal pressure.” My breath catches. Because it’s describing comfort. Theodore whispers “…It likes your smile.” I ignore him immediately

“Wait… is this *The Silent Watcher*?” I raised a brow. “Yeah. You've read it?” She took it off the shelf. “In secondary school. It creeped me out, but I couldn’t put it down.” I gestured to the seat across from me. “Have a seat. You can read while I work.” She nodded and sat, flipping open the book. “This author has such a weird mind. I remember being convinced that the house in the story was actually alive.” “It kind of was,” I said, leaning back. “It messed with your head more than the characters’.”

How's the reading so far? I sincerely hope you are enjoying this book and I will like for you to leave a rating and review in the review section. You can leave a comment here as well. I know you love this book but trust me when I say that I love it more than you do. As I write every chapter, I fall in love with what I am able to put down. 😩😩😩😩 Who's your favorite character? Tell me in the comments and tell me why you love this person.

His silence was louder than any words could ever be. His presence filled the room, suffocating in its intensity, yet I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, not without his permission. And that terrified me, but I was too far gone to care. His steps were slow, deliberate, like a hunter approaching its helpless target. My heart pounded in my chest, my palms clammy as I clutched the edge of the table. Every part of me screamed to run, to escape the suffocating grip he had on my mind, on my soul, but my feet remained rooted to the ground.

Sabeerah brought them out one by one. Muslim Girl and If I Speak by Umm Zakiyyah, The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides, Three Daughters Of Eve by Elif Shafak, On Black Sister's Street by Chika Unigwe, And Then There Was None by Agatha Christie, A Time To Kill by John Grisham and finally, A History Of The Wives Of Prophet Muhammad by Umam Kahn. She picked up the last book which was actually a journal and tucked in its side were plack pencils with bookish scribbles on them.

When she was here trying to get close to him and get his trust. The man sat in silence, his eyes downcast and his mind lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. The air around him was heavy with unspoken words, suffocating in their weight. He had come to this prison seeking silence, not to be bothered by a stupid genius therapist. The silence caressed their skins like a cool summer breeze, smoothing their souls, and taking away her jagged edges. It had been one hell of a rough day. He was still looking at the white ceiling ignoring all her tries. "Aah," she sighed and began walking towards him until she found herself stopped in front of him.

A small whimper makes the both of them flinch. Looking at the little girl, they witnessed how her chest moved slowly. Until it stopped altogether. “She’s dead,” Silas says, his voice nothing but a soft croak. Tears on his face, “She’s dead, El!” Suddenly, something in one of the books she had read that she had stolen from Silas popped inside her mind. The mental image seemed to blast into her mind in high quality. Walking towards the piles of books on the ground, she grabs it, trying her best not to retch when her hand had touched the girl’s blood. She forced her mind to remember the page, not that it was hard, she had an amazing memory. Just like that, she saw the page, images and instructi

"OK!" Breakfast was fast today, fresh snow had fallen during the night and everyone wanted to hit the slopes first. Nobody noticed that Hannah was missing. Alissa already had everything ready an hour after breakfast, she sat on the sofa in the living room and took the remote control. But there was just nothing decent on TV and she turned it off after a few minutes. She went to the bookshelf and took out a novel, the title sounded promising and so she decided to take it with her room and read it comfortably in her bed. In the past few months she had read a great many books; she had had nothing else to do. She shook the thought away and opened the door to her room on the second floor. She thre

And for just a moment—the flood stopped. The pages of the giant book curled backward like flapping wings. The bloody image of Camela on the first page screamed as its face split open into a thousand cracks. The whispers grew louder than ever before—desperate and furious this time: “You chose silence. Then silence shall be your fate.” Every book in the library slammed shut simultaneously with a sound that thundered like bones breaking apart. And then—darkness. A total, smothering, and overwhelming silence enveloped them both.

By the time Benjamin finished giving his statement at the police station and returned home, it was already past midnight. The moment he stepped into the house, he sensed something was wrong. It was too quiet. The massive mansion was shrouded in darkness. Not a single light was on. The occasional chirping of insects and whisper of wind in the courtyard suddenly felt jarring, eerily loud in the stillness. Benjamin frowned instinctively. No matter what time he came home, Nissa always left a light on for him. She once said that was what made it feel like home.