Through My Window Book Novels & Stories

My gaze settled on the window! I dragged the trash bin closer and flipped it. It wobbled under my weight, but I braced myself against the cold wall. The window was narrow and painted shut. I pushed. Nothing. I shoved harder. Creak. The frame popped open just wide enough for me to squeeze through. I dropped onto a bed of gravel and swallowed a scream. Catching my breath, I pushed myself to my feet and limped my way around the property, toward the main road. My phone vibrated with another text.

“The window!” Now comprehending, I snatch Ivy by the hand fair as she shifts back into human frame, and the two of us duck into the room. There’s a growl and a crash, and minutes afterward, Chart book takes after us. I have to battle to keep up the obstruction without being able to see it, and I turn to Chart book as we lurch toward the window, quietly signaling my question.

Telling me to hide like a scared little girl. I paced the room, “No, there’s no way I’m going to take orders from him!” With that, I turned to the window, yanked the curtain open wider just to spite him. Sunlight poured in, warm on my face. And I smiled at my mischievousness until u heard a low hum just outside the window. It was a small back drone, it was outside the glass, close enough that I could see the tiny camera lens glinting. My breath caught. It dipped slightly, and something fluttered against my window; a piece of paper fell into my room.

Window. I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline spiking. The window was low, just above the sloping roof of the porch—a perfect escape I’d used as a kid. I shoved it open, cool air hitting my face as I swung one leg over the sill. The book went into my hoodie pocket, heavy against my side. I slid out, my sneakers scraping the shingles as I dropped to the grass below. Ben’s beat-up sedan idled at the curb, headlights off. I ran to it, yanking the passenger door open and sliding in.

"I’m starting a new book." "Yeah? What’s it about?" I looked out the window as the ruins of my life slid past. "It’s about a woman who stopped writing," I said. The driver laughed. "Short book, then." "You’d be surprised." We drove into the dark. The headlights cut a thin, flickering path through the ash. I closed my eyes. For the first time in years, I didn't dream of the Butcher. I didn't dream at all.

The scent of the food is still in the air, like a memory of a kindness that was turned into an act of power. I walk to the window because windows are always small rebellions. The glass is thick and the bars outside are a promise. I close my eyes and let my mind do the thing it does best, which is to drag me back where I do not want to go. The memory unfurls like smoke.

My hand touched the soft fabric to pull away from the shields, but I became dumbfounded when there was nothing to be protected from, from the other side. The large gulp I took, subdued the scream that dared to break free from my body. I slowly took stealthy steps backward, but then I moved forward and traced my hand onto the wall where a window is supposed to be situated. Tears dripped from my eyes unconsciously as my stubborn hands kept on searching for the window hopelessly. They gave up their frantic search and replaced it with punches aimed at the unmovable wall. How is this possible? How did the window vanish itself? It's not possible to wipe out a whole window from a room! My room!

I whispered to myself as if there was a light bulb that suddenly flashed above my head. I went to the window and opened the curtain. The window is just the right size and height to use in what I do. I see nothing outside and I only see my reflection. I felt the shape of the window box using my hand from top to bottom “Et aperi mihi volo ut ubi ego vado, Coventry," I whispered the window and blow it carefully while still holding my hands to the windows. I waited a few seconds when the window suddenly became visible, I lost my reflection there and I immediately saw the look of the room. They are completely inside the library while sitting at a round table. Their faces show the annoyance and an

The event I had been eagerly looking forward to is slipping away from my grasp, snatched away by someone who was once my closest kin. With a surge of determination, I take a deep breath and steady myself. I refuse to be confined, both physically and metaphorically, by my sister's malice. Summoning all my strength, I step back from the door and survey my surroundings. The room is dimly lit, the air heavy with tension. My gaze lands on a cracked window, its jagged edges reflecting the shards of pain that I have gone through my whole life. Without hesitation, I make my way toward it.

It was a soul-wrenching piece of sheets. I got myself lost in the world, forgetting about the asshole and all that had happened but his eyes kept flashing in my vision. I could not help but close the book and forced my eyes close. When I could not get some sleep, I scrambled up and walked towards the window. Looking outside, my eyes traced every scene and sight and I let out a deep breath. I was not going to let my new neighbor get to me, especially this asshole. I noticed the window to a room was left open and a thought twinkled in my head. Haha, nice idea.