Through My Window Book English Novels & Stories

I can’t help but chuckle at what I see. Rose’s POV Walking into the billion dollar kitchen – I still can not help but marvel at it’s absolute beauty. “Wow” I gasp as I lay eyes on the large kitchen window. The sky is a black pit of darkness – its tiny stars twinkle so lightly , that you may need to strain your eyes a bit to see them. I move towards the window slowly , I am truly mesmerized by this enchanting sight. I place my both hands on the window – and very childishly smush my face on the transparent glass. I can feel how hot my breath is as it heats up my face – the surround glass around my face becomes misty.

i said and closed my window back. I haven’t even sat down when he started playing again. I opened the window again and angrily threw my book at him,it hit his head and he fell down. “Are you dead? Please tell me you are dead” i said. “No,am not,am indestructible,now that i have novel, you are not getting it back” “Stop being childish, give me my book” “Remove your contact lenses first” What kind of person is this? I don’t think i can survive if this guy’s room is close to mine. T.B.C

Taken tonight. Through the bedroom window. My blood turns to ice. Under it, a new line: "He’s lying to you."

I might not be a match for him if Luke is beaten by him and that's if I get there in time. Austin is going to kill me. I go to the window anyway. The side of the pack house is there, where the pack trains when the weather is nice. I open the window, wincing when it squeaks. It opens wider than I thought it would, it'll be easy for me to slip through.

I lie in my bed, hoping the sound of rain will eventually lure me to sleep but the sound of peddle hitting my window got me up in an instant and when i opened the window to see what it was There outside the rain was James holding a bunch of flower

Chapter 3- A Perfect Day Drrrrr! Crash! Bang! Melo was awoken by crashing and banging happening outside his room. What kind of ruckus is happening? He thought to himself. He slightly opened his eyes but all he saw were the lights peeking through his window blinds, beaming across the room. He scooted to the other side of the bed, facing his big glass window that is covered with white blinds. Then, he slipped two of his fingers in between the blinds and allowed just the right amount of light to pass through.

j e a n I scan the words of the book in front of me. I have been in this position for hours, just reading. Before I knew it, my head was dozing off and I find myself eyeing the beautiful buildings of Massachusetts. I smiled and felt calmness drive through my veins. I have been seeing this view for a month now but I can never seem to get used to it. This view symbolizes my freedom from my old life. I opened the window and breathe in the misty air of the night, the sounds of honking vehicles. It's not as quiet as Milan but it's much better. That certain quietness was hell for me.

It looked ancient, and as my eyes touched its words I felt as though I was in the presence of a very old, very powerful being. My eyes pricked with tears. The raindrops hit the window beside me, splintering and splitting into two halves. Outside, I could see the figure of the wolf statue that Alpha Felix and Luna Carla had got us as a house-warming gift. A single drop of rain ran like a stream down the centre of its image, clinging to the glass pane of the bay window and trailing into insignificance as it fell to the wet ground below. I turned back to the open, withered pages of the book. I flicked through it, my fingers careful as they ran through the papers. One word caught my eye: Life.

Anger coursed through my veins, fueling my determination to confront Martha, even though deep down, I questioned whether she would be willing to engage in a conversation with me. As I approached the table, a heavy sigh escaped my lips, a poignant gesture that mirrored the weight of my emotions. I couldn't help but turn my gaze towards the window, seeking solace in the outside world. The view outside seemed to reflect the turmoil within me as if nature itself understood my inner turmoil.

The monster who took everything from me. I turn toward the window, my only connection to the outside world. The moonlight spills across the floor, casting eerie shadows that stretch toward me like ghostly fingers. The night is alive with the sounds of the forest—crickets chirping, the distant howl of a wolf, the rustling of leaves in the wind. The wind. My pulse quickens. If I can feel the wind, that means this window isn’t sealed shut. Moving quickly, I cross the room and press my hands against the wooden frame. The glass is old, the wood slightly warped. If I apply enough force—