The Ugly Truth Novels & Stories

"In any war, truth is the first victim. Can you not see that? Could she not see it?" "Can you deny that Tina Davis was murdered because she was testing lies that reinforced the war struggle recovering than the facts would have done?" "I am saying," the Home Secretary said, "that the disparity between truth and lies is immaterial in time of war. True or false? Right or wrong? These questions are inconsequential now. It's all down to allegiance. Are you with us or against us? Surely you of can see that." "And anyone who isn't with you?" "-- is with the guerrillas and must be removed!" said the Home Secretary.

The last color of our rainbows, the missing piece of our songs, the one who'll complete our untold stories. This is not just the right time... "Mr. Timothy Kim, what can you say about this issue that you're drinking alcohol that night?" the conference hall went silent and they just waited Timothy's answer, like they're craving for it. "No, I'm not. Those are just rumors. I went to that convenience store to buy some of my favorite drinks. I just want to make it clear everything. Not all you see is the truth, and not all the words you hear about me, about the Metamorphosis are real. To all our fans out there... please, believe in us." He said in front of the media and reporters.

Their true love was Callie. I couldn't accept the fact that he was the real culprit behind my disfiguration. When I was disfigured, I had endured insults on my appearance and felt too ashamed to look into the mirror. I grappled with social anxiety to the point where it was almost impossible to get out of the house. All the suffering I had been put through was because they cared more about Callie and wanted to stop me from marrying Easton. To think I had been grateful to Andre for saving me from the fire, and swore not to let him down!

He frowned at it. annihilatorAK47 ×y'all shouldn't be so ignorant. Remember the waiter he'd kissed? Chelsea is so self absorbed that he'd looked past the fact that he'd literally harassed somebody at his workplace and had shamed him for having an 'unusual' face. Being beautiful is not just about having a pretty face and you Chelsea are the ugliest person I've ever seen. #chelseaugliestbitchintheworld Chelsea scoffed. What? He couldn't believe it. Who the hell did this person think they were?

Hard pass. After confirming, I rummaged through my clothes for something halfway decent. Even if it was a cleaning job, I needed to look presentable unless I wanted my belongings decorating the sidewalk. I settled on a baby-blue shirt, navy pencil skirt, and flats. Then texted my best friend Meghan before she found 300 ways to punish me for not updating her. If only she used that same energy on leaving her abusive boyfriend. Shame. Bored, I googled Lockewood Heights. One click on Images and—holy cow. The place was stunning. And the CEO? Damien Lockewood looked like he fell straight from hell.

"No matter how much I want to protect you from this world, I can't. Not until you truly understand and accept the reality of it." Hailey's face crumbled as his words sank in. Her eyes welled up with tears, her voice cracking as she responded, "What am I supposed to do? Is it my fault that I look the way I do? Should I wish to be ugly? Should I start praying for God to make me unattractive so that I can finally live in peace?" Her voice broke as she choked on the tears, the weight of the unfairness overwhelming her.

“You ruined your own life the moment you decided my suffering entertained you.” That hit. I saw it. Because cruelty always feels powerful until someone survives it publicly. The room remained frozen around us. Nobody knew how to interrupt a truth this large. And maybe that was the point. Truth does not need decoration. It simply needs exposure. I looked down briefly at my stained dress. The wine had dried darker now against the fabric. Strangely enough, I no longer cared. Because humiliation loses power the moment you stop being ashamed of surviving. I lifted my gaze again.

“I’ve seen the girls who throw themselves at you.” I swallow hard. “They’re beautiful.” The word hurts. More than it should. “Confident.” “Perfect.” “The kind of girls people notice.” I laugh softly. A broken sound. “The kind of girls I’ve spent my entire life standing next to.” Nobody says anything. Nobody moves. And somehow that’s worse. Because now they’re hearing the truth. The ugly truth. The part of me I usually keep hidden. “I don’t look like them.” There it is. Out in the open.

It was all a lie. The pain was so sharp I felt like I was going to faint. Tormund had been cruel, but he was always honest about his disgust. This... this was a cruel, twisted game. Atlas had fooled me into thinking I was sexy and desirable just so he could have a story to tell his friends. I was just a number on his list. The "ugly girl" he conquered for a laugh. Reality was knocking at the door now, and it was screaming at me to run. I couldn't stay here for another second. If I saw his face again, I think I would actually die from the shame.

“Diana, I don’t have time for this. Whatever you think you know, keep it. I’m not interested.” “Please,” she whispered, and for once, her tone wasn’t dripping with entitlement or spoiled arrogance. It was soft. Fragile. Like a wounded animal. “I’ve carried this for years. Since that night. And now… now I can’t anymore. It’s eating me alive. I need to tell you the truth, Julian.” His eyes snapped open, irritation darkening into suspicion. “What truth?”