The Walls Around Us Book Novels & Stories

Aeden said smiling. “Oh, Kar just wanted to know what he should say to me, you know to apologize. But he did pretty well on his own. But I have something else I need to talk to you about. Actually, it has to do with all of us.” Lex said. “Oh ok. So how do we have a 'group chat' so to speak?” Aeden asked. “Well our Histories say that we might be able to all talk by looking in a mirror large enough for all of us to see each other.” Lex said.

People who want a different kind of future. Your job is not to conquer the world. It is to wake it up. I closed the book gently. The soft cover made no sound as it shut. We stood there in the quiet chamber for a long time. The murals on the walls seemed to watch over us. The air felt full of peace and clarity. Above us, Elvira was tearing the mountain apart. Above us, armies waited to kill or capture us. Above us, the fate of the world hung in the balance.

She is asking whether I understand the difference from the inside, not just as an observation about her. "I built those walls," I say, "because I decided after the family expelled me that the only safe way to live was to make myself into something that nothing could reach. And it worked. For twelve years nothing reached me." I stop. "And then you disappeared at dawn from a penthouse and I spent three months thinking about a woman whose name I didn't know and I understood that all those walls had done was ensure that when something finally reached me, I had no defenses left at all."

Th‍e walls‌ of this ap​artment were starting to feel very‌, very sm‍all. ⁠

My pulse stayed loud. And the walls stayed exactly where they were far too close for my liking. ****

"Don't go there. Ever. Marcus handles that side. He’s not as nice as me." "Marcus is the brick wall, right?" Anya almost smiled. "Yeah. The brick wall" We reached the library. It was two stories high. Thousands of books lined the walls. "Can I come in here?" I asked. I reached for a leather-bound book. "No," Anya said. She grabbed my wrist. "Rule number six. You stay in the West Wing. This is the border." I looked at the books. They were so close. "He has all these books and he doesn't read them?"

The bread trembles in my fingers, so I set it down and move to the next table like nothing is wrong. We finish the rounds and cut through the quiet side corridor back toward the kitchen. The walls here are lined with a carved screen that makes light into lattice. Wolves chase moons in the pattern, all motion and stylized hunger. It’s old work, the places where hands have passed for years are worn smooth. When I touch it with one fingertip, the wood is silky and cool. “Don’t let Marek catch you petting the wall,” Kai teases, eyes warm. “I’m memorizing it,” I say before I can stop myself.

However, his joy turned to dismay at the school carnival when his father forgot to tell the babysitter to bake cookies, and he ended up with generic cookies instead of the homemade bear-shaped ones his mother used to bake. Surrounded by classmates who craved his mother's famous treats, Calvin had a sudden epiphany: maybe his mother was not so bad after all. Then there was Chester Harris who despised the scheming woman who had taken his mother's place. However, during a thunderstorm, as he pressed against the door, the absence of his mother's soothing hum from the other side sent him into a tailspin. Mandy York came next, her blood pressure spiking again, then needing meds to keep it in check

I remind myself of a spider. When I look out through the cracks in the wall, I see a big open world. When I look up, the colors are so beautiful. There are often fluffy things in the sky. I wonder what they taste like. The terrible depth above makes me wonder if I would fall upward forever if I went outside. The prison is surrounded by large brown poles that reach up tall in to green cushions. The poles form a sort of wall around the castle. There are gentle creatures out there. Creatures with long legs and fur. They run so fast. It doesn’t seem like they fall up.

Lets Eli drop it from above with one clean strike. The body falls exactly where the plan said it would. For a moment, everyone simply looks at it. Then Molly says, “That was disgusting and elegant.” Maya points at her. “Put that on the brochure.” By dusk, the wall is sealed. Not finished. Finished is a fantasy word, like vacation or emotionally uncomplicated. But sealed. Both sides of the road stand in steel. The gate holds. The crosswalk is rough but usable. Twenty empty rooms wait behind inward-facing doors, smelling of rust, dust, and possibility.