Novel & Cerita The Words Get Stuck In My Throat

I felt a lump forming in my throat, constricting my ability to speak or make sense of what I had just read. The words on the screen danced before my eyes, blurring into a jumble of letters. My mind struggled to comprehend their meaning, but slowly, their significance seeped into my consciousness. It was a warning—a direct threat to the very core of my being. The implications sent shivers down my spine, causing a chill to creep up my back.

With each word she uttered, I felt myself striving hard to keep it down. I wanted to send her away from my office as quickly as I can. However, it felt as if my throat was not in my control anymore.My voice was stuck within my throat and I couldn't mumble a word to send her away from my office. Instead, it felt as if I was the one inviting her to my stead. I couldn't open my mouth to say a single word to her. Before I could process what was happening to my body, she walked slowly and stood in between my legs, straddling me.

The question hit me like a fist to the chest. I froze. My throat went dry. The air between us seemed to thin until it was hard to breathe. “I—” My voice cracked. “I do-don’t kn—” I swallowed, hard, but the words stuck in my throat. “Fuck.”

I can’t explain. My chest palpated and the heart was ready to explode. The heat rushed into my veins like a thrombus fulminates. The lump in my throat got stuck and it was hard to swallow deep down. I can’t think straight. I screamed and pulled my hair. Finally! giving up on the ground.

Everywhere. I heard ringing in my ears, like someone had put me underwater. Like it was coming from underwater. I was floating somewhere but not quite sure where exactly. I tried to say “Mom” but I couldn't, the word couldn't fall from my mouth because there was a lump blocking my throat, it felt like someone had stuck something between my teeth to hold my jaw closed. And I still couldn't breathe well enough to talk.

The shock that greeted me there was like a slap in the face, leaving me reeling and frozen in place. I stood there, wanting to speak, to express the turmoil of emotions swirling within me, but my voice was trapped. No words came out, just a hollow silence that hung in the air, a testament to my struggle to find the right words. My lips moved, but the sounds remained locked inside, refusing to escape.

They are stuck on the lump in my throat. I move my mouth, but still nothing comes out. Confusion flashes across my father’s face. His patience runs thin as he barks, “Tell me what is going on.” His command has me instinctively responding as I mumble, “It is gone.” His face scrunches up as he stares at me. “What is gone? I don’t understand.” He turns his attention back to Trinity and slaps my hand away from her, before sliding his thumb over the area where the deep cut had been.

My stomach knotted itself, and a stubborn lump sat in my throat, making it difficult for me to swallow saliva. My vision grew blurry, and something stung my eyelids. “I don’t care,” I muttered underneath my breath, stifling a gulp as I rested my back against the bed’s head board and folded my knees against my chest. I swallowed hard, hoping to dislodge the lump in my throat. It did, but not without scorching my dry walls. “I don’t care about him,” I breathed out, but my shaky lips and voice sold me out. Tears flowed down my cheek, and I rested my head on my knees with a sinking feeling in my chest.

he adds, leaning in just a fraction, "your world does." The words hit me like a physical blow. I freeze mid-chew, the noodles still in my mouth. My lungs seem to stop working, and for a terrifying second, I nearly choke. I have to cough into my napkin to clear my throat, my face turning a deep, embarrassed red. *What the fuck is that supposed to mean?*

The moment realization dawns. Her lips part slightly, a shallow inhale—the way someone gasps when their world tilts off its axis. Her fingers press deeper against her stomach, desperate for something—anything—to contradict the truth forming in her mind. I try to speak, but my throat is like sandpaper, raw and unyielding. Every word feels like barbed wire lodged in my chest.