Tiny Room Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

My wolf went quiet. At the end of the hall was a door painted pale yellow, faded but warm. Damon hesitated before touching the handle. “We’ve… never opened this for anyone but us,” he said. “You don’t have to show me,” I whispered. Rowan shook his head. “You deserve to see where you were meant to grow up.” The door creaked open. My breath caught. The room was small, but beautiful. Soft. A crib draped with a delicate mobile of glass moons. Little hand-stitched blankets folded with impossible care. The faint scent of lavender still clung to the air, like someone had sealed the moment before I was born and refused to let it fade.

He said. “I have one but it’s already chapter one.” I said hesitantly. “Read it for me, please…” *Cataclysm Chapter 01 I'm walking on the hallway of the school to pay the books I need. Everyone is busy talking to their old friends, some for their newfound friends and what makes me agitated is it seems someone is following me and it seems someone is watching me every corner of the school. It makes me feel uneasy. ---

We stood there for a moment, holding hands outside her dorm room door, preparing to face whatever supernatural bureaucracy awaited us inside. "Ready?" Ming asked. "Ready." She opened the door, and I got my first glimpse into the larger supernatural world that Ming belonged to. It was nothing like what I'd expected. And everything was about to change. [End of Chapter 12]

Anytime my uncle and aunt speak of the past, it feels like they are dancing around a massive dark secret — one that felt dangerously close to the fire that had taken my parents lives. Before they would hear me breathing in the hall, I hurry down the corridor to my room. It is the smallest room in the entire mansion, situated at the far end of the service wing. While my cousins have sprawling suites with walk-in closets and private balconies, my room is barely larger than a walk-in closet itself. It contains a single bed, a small wooden desk, and a wardrobe with a loose door. I step inside, close the door and immediately turn the lock, checking it twice to ensure it is secure. I collapse onto

Chapter 1 I stood there in the dark of my living room, my face pushed right up against the thin curtain, peering through the tiny gap in the blinds. The house next door, Watson’s place, had all the lights blazing, and every few minutes, loud bursts of laughter cut through the quiet night.

“Be careful on those steps. And try not to get your fingers all over everything. The oils from your skin will ruin my books.” I nodded. “I’ll be careful,” I replied. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and switched on the flashlight, then descended down the stairs. With each step, the air became colder. By the time I got to the bottom, it was almost frigid. I found myself in a surprisingly small room, but it was still packed with books. The walls were made of bookshelves, and there were a few glass cases that housed extremely decrepit old tomes. Unlike upstairs, everything seemed to be neatly organized.

Jeni watched me, nervously. "I think somethings...wrong...with..." I said as I tried to stand up, collapsing to the floor. My last sight was Jeni's feet. They were pretty cute. I blacked out. ---------------------------------------------- Family Reunions ---------------------------------------------- I woke up groggy, not myself at all. I was in a comfortable if tiny bed, in a small room. There were no windows and only one door, which was metal and looked sturdy. Like a door at a jail. There was also a desk with an uncomfortable-looking chair, a lamp and two books. One of the books was a blank notebook with a pen. The other was 'The Quiet of Solitude'. I recognized the author's name.

In my previous life, I still felt a trace of pity for Lucy. It was not like she wanted to be this way. But in the end, my parents and I were all dragged into mud, turned into fuel for her emotions… I turned and walked into what should've been my room, then suddenly realized something was off. This was the smallest room in the house. There was only a tiny window, and there was practically no sunlight. It was barely livable. Why should I be the one living in a room like that?

“Door at the end of the hall. Leads to the alley. You okay, hon?” I nodded fast. “I’m fine. Just tired.” She shrugged. “Alright. Stay safe.” I walked out and found room twelve. The door opened with a click. I stepped inside and locked it behind me. The room was small. One bed, one chair, one lamp. The carpet felt thin under my shoes. I set my suitcase down and sat on the edge of the bed.

I walked silently beside Miss Callie, my steps echoing in the empty corridor. I could feel her eyes on me, assessing and pitying all at once. I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead. We finally reached my room. I paused outside the door. Number 13 and my name were on the door. I could feel Miss Callie watching my every move. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside the small space with white walls and a narrow bed that looked more like a slab than something meant for comfort. The window was barred, making the room feel more suffocating than it already was; the only bit of colour in the room was the big red button on the wall.