Through My Window Book English Novels & Stories

Emma Watson The sunlight spilled through my bedroom window like a quiet invitation—soft, golden, almost apologetic. It was the first real morning I’d had in what felt like weeks. No gunshots. No screaming. No running. Just the distant hum of the city below and the ticking clock on the wall that reminded me life was still moving forward, whether I was ready for it or not.

Athen POV. I dashed towards the open window, feeling a chill run through my veins as the cold breeze rushed in and caused the pages of the forbidden tome to flutter restlessly. The room was dimly lit, but the pale light of the moon seemed to shimmer with a strange allure as I picked up the book with trembling hands. The Forbidden Knowledge. For weeks I had been yearning to unlock its secrets, to delve deep into its pages and uncover the truths that lay hidden within.

Chapter: 56 ****** ALTAIR: As I slipped through the window into the familiar confines of my bedroom, the weight of the night pressed down on me like a shroud. The chill of the evening air followed me inside, but it did little to alleviate the heaviness in my heart. I closed the window behind me, the gentle click of the latch echoing with a finality I was unprepared to face. Tears spilled from my eyes the moment I fell onto my bed, the soft sheets offering no comfort against the turmoil within.

If this has anything to do with me. *** I tried to close my eyes, but I couldn't. I still keep hearing them argue. The movement of the branches on the window made me curious. I got out of my bed. I walked over to the window. I wanna see how bad the weather is out there. I walked slowly, the closer I got to the window. The louder the movement of the branch got. Fear got over me. I stopped my steps. Sighed, and started to come closer again. As I got closer, the movement disappeared. I'm getting more and more curious. I peeked outside. There's nothing out there. However, when I turned around. Suddenly there was a very loud crash. Something hit my window.

Answers escaped me, slipping through my fingers like the snowflakes outside my room window. I forcefully snapped the book shut, and the loud clap echoed through my room, breaking the silence that had surrounded me and snapping me back to reality. Sorry, sweet room of secrets; you had given me comfort, but instead, you had pushed me into the heart of my storm. I needed air—fresh, clear air, and to get away from the suffocating remnants of my solitude.

How? I turned my head slowly, and there he was. My breath caught in my throat as fear washed over me in waves. “I know what you’re thinking right now,” he said, his voice low and shockingly calm. He pointed toward the window, which was now open with broken glass glinting faintly in the moonlight. “I passed through the window.”

I spent the rest of the day in my room, and by night the packhouse was silent around me. I stood by the window, the same window Julius once found words burned across. Now the glass was clean. At least it looked that way. Outside, the world breathed slow. Inside, my reflection watched me too closely. I leaned nearer. It leaned back, but a beat late. “Stop,” I whispered. It smiled. In my own voice it said, He’s not the only one watching. A hairline crack split the glass from top to bottom, thin as lightning. I stumbled back, pressing my hand to the mark that had begun to pulse again.

Just one a weekend. I blew out a long breath, ready to tackle the English essay awaiting me, and sat Indian-style. A knock sounded at my window before I could start, and I frowned. My window? I crawled over my bed and pushed open my curtain and– Stared right into Austin’s face. He grinned. “What the?” I pushed the window open. “Just … What?”

A‍ wh⁠ispered wo⁠rd t​o​ the w‍r‌ong person​. I walk⁠ed to the‍ window.⁠ The d⁠ay was c‌lear. I could see⁠ the edge of the old oak,‌ its hollow now empty.⁠ My e‍vidence was gone from there‌, and sitting in a book behind me‍. The chain was comple⁠te‍.

The window, closed. Locked from outside. Someone nailed it shut while we slept. Someone wanted us to die. I kick it. Once. The glass cracks. Twice. It shatters. Fresh air rushes in. Cold. Clean. Life. "Climb out!" I lift Marcus. He is small. Light. He fits through the broken window, glass tearing his shirt. He doesn't cry. He is brave. He is so brave. I follow. My arm catches on the frame. Glass bites deep. Blood runs down my elbow. I don't stop. I don't look.