This Is What The Truth Feels Like Novels & Stories

The circle beneath me pulses. Once, twice and then pain explodes through my body. I scream. It feels like my bones are being torn apart from the inside, like something is clawing its way out of me, forcing itself free. My back arches violently as I fall fully to my knees. “Make it stop!” I choke out. But it only gets worse. My skin burns. My veins feel like they’re on fire. My heart, it feels like it’s being squeezed, crushed, tested. “This is your truth,” the voice echoes. “Your power does not come without cost.”

It’s sudden. Physical. Like something drops out of me all at once and leaves a cavity behind. My chest feels empty in a way that has nothing to do with relief. My hands are steady, but my stomach feels wrong, like I forgot to eat for days and my body is only just noticing. I shrug off my jacket and it feels heavier than it should. I sit down and stare at the wall. Truth should feel heavier than this. It should leave an imprint. It shouldn’t feel like it evaporated the second it did its job.

Just the truth said aloud. I swallowed, let my fork drop against the empty plate, the tart long forgotten in the shadow of what his words stirred in me. “I don’t know what I feel anymore,” I said. “I think I stopped trying to label it the moment everything got… messy.” Alessandro chuckled, not unkindly. “Messy is where the truth lives, Sarah. People pretend love is clean, but it’s not. It’s chaotic. Loud. Unforgiving. Beautiful. And painfully human.”

“Then… how can I know what’s real? How do I know you’re telling me the truth now?” Her hands trembled—not with weakness, but with controlled fury. “Because sometimes the truth isn’t clean. Sometimes it’s ugly, and it hurts, and it makes people doubt the ones they love the most. Maybe… maybe you’re ready for the ugly truth, maybe you’re not. But stop pretending everything is black and white!”

Because I can feel it— the system reacting to hesitation again. Measuring it. Judging it. “I wasn’t going to tell you like this,” I whisper. “That’s not an answer.” “I know.” “Then give me one.” The pressure builds. The chair vibrates beneath us. “TRUTH VERIFICATION REQUIRED.” Of course. Of course it needs the truth. Raw. Unfiltered. No hiding. No escaping. My chest tightens painfully. Not from the energy this time. From fear. Real fear.

Just one truth reverberating through every silent body that drew closer to her: “This feels like a place where I don’t have to earn the right to exist.”

Bubbles of air choked her throat, keeping the whispers back, letting out only a stutter at best. Monica took the King James Version Bible, raised it up with a hand and nervously gulped down, different panic and guilt thoughts raced through her head but she dismissed them - not totally. "I solemnly state I will tell the truth without hiding or adding anything and I should be punished for false testimonies if I lie." Her voice sounded mechanical, like the voice of a person reciting something written. I implore you to say the truth, just this once!

I tried to explain, to tell them I had not laid a finger on Marvin. However, they would not listen. In a flash, I felt the sting of electric batons and the weight of iron rods as they struck me, sending me into darkness as I hit the floor with a heavy thud. At that moment, a familiar voice echoed down the hallway. "Stop! All of you."

Instead, my life had turned chaotic, and I had even dragged them into this humiliation. There was no greater suffering in life than this. I felt as if my insides were being ruthlessly squeezed and twisted in someone's hand. I sat by the window, looking at the soft rain tapping on the glass, as if trying to awaken my frozen thoughts. The jasmine tea had long gone cold, but I still didn't feel like touching it. The indescribable sadness inside me was like rain in the air, impossible to shake off. Just then, the door was gently pushed open. Kevin stepped in cautiously, holding a bowl of steaming soup.

Like a shattering glass, their souls will be everywhere finding the frame. How cruel this world is. How much pain must we all feel to be able to live the way we want? A never ending tears falling from the swollen eyes. A never ending of sorrow from the past to present. An unexpected happenings that no one knew will happen but definitely know the fear of intuition happening. But..... The way she smiles while her eyes are close sends me a thousand chills. Is she happy? Is she satisfied that she got to save her husband? Is she happy that no one got hurt badly and died?