Through My Window Book Series Novels & Stories

"The window is more fitting for you." His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t argue. Without another word, he jumped out of the window, landing gracefully before vanishing into the woods. I closed the window immediately, locking it tight. The room fell silent again, and I crawled into bed. As soon as my eyes shut, the darkness swallowed me, and I found myself somewhere else entirely. --- I was home. The familiar sight of my family sitting outside, enjoying the cool evening air, warmed me for a moment. But then, the moon turned a deep, bloody red, and everything shifted. Flames erupted around us, consuming everything in their path. The world burned.

I went to take a shower after dinner. It was then that I suddenly saw a weird palm print on the glass window. Someone must have left that palm print behind with their soapy hand while taking a shower. The print was quite faint and white against the shiny glass on the window. It was obviously a woman's handprint, and it wasn't mine. My hand was a little bigger than this. So I couldn't have been the one who put it there. It couldn't have been my daughter, Bella Quinton, either. She had tiny hands and wasn't even tall enough to reach that spot yet. Also, it definitely did not belong to my husband, Rory Quinton.

I agreed and fell asleep quickly. It seemed like I wasn’t asleep for more than a few minutes when I was suddenly back in that room with my sister and now, two brothers. They were all shackled to the floor. I did notice that the window was no longer tall, but wide. One of them had turned the window sideways, and I know why. During the era of the Salem Witch Trials, the houses in the affected areas started being built with one window at an odd angle or sideways. It was called a Witch’s Window because a witch wouldn’t be able to fly through it on her broom. It was a human attempt to deter witches from entering their homes.

Tessa’s POV I ran toward my bedroom. Once I saw the window in the living room was opening, slamming the door shut behind me. The hissing coming from the window in my room had me nearly paralyzed. The window was pushed in and shattered to the ground. I stumbled backward as an unfamiliar face crawled through the window. I screamed, wondering if Joseph could hear me. I thought he could teleport. Why wasn’t he here? Just as I ran toward the door, my bare foot snagged on a piece of glass on the ground and blood spattered around me.

When daddy finds out he's going to skin him. I rolled back onto my side and looked out the window at the tops of the trees in the distance. I didn't know that our windows aren't really windows until today. I could see through other people's windows with the drone, but when I buzzed our house earlier, all I saw was the reflection of the light outside. Daddy had surrounded the whole house with one-way glass.

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!

The challenge was finding the Book of the Moon, an artefact I had never seen and wasn’t even sure existed. Determination fuelled my steps as I crept through the underbrush, making my way to the side of the mansion. Climbing the trellis to my bedroom window felt like second nature, my muscles remembering the movements from countless escape attempts during my younger years. I reached the window, pushed it open, and slipped inside, landing softly on the carpeted floor.

The weekend went by and now it was Sunday evening. I was currently sitting up in bed reading one of my favourite books; The Hunger Games. I can't count how many times I've read it. I was so indulged in the book, that I hadn't heard the soft tap on my window at first. When I hear the second tap, I put the book down and listen. After a while, I hear it again. Yep, I definitely wasn't imagining things. I rest the book on my bedside table and got off the bed. I went over to my window and open the curtains. I slide the window pane up and look out. Tyler was sitting on his window sill, looking as comfortable as ever. He had a few pebbles in his hands.

Thea’s POV Soren Solvane had no right to tell me who I could or couldn't see. I crouched by the side of the house and worked my fingers under the basement window frame. The front door would be locked — Aunt Margot never left it open for me — but the latch on this window had been broken since I was twelve. The night air stung my face. My eyes still felt raw from the crying I'd done in Soren's car, quiet and careful, turned toward the window so he wouldn't see. He probably saw anyway.

Thinking that sends a quick, sharp ache through me. Mera would’ve known. She was the one who handled things like that. I move slowly from window to window, pulling fabric across glass, trying not to spiral into irritation over the ridiculous number of panels. When I reach the last window on the west wall beside my bed, I hesitate. From here, I have a direct view of the small cottage next door. Into Carter’s place.