Trapped Novels & Stories

I had to get away before he could catch me. But I was trapped. I had to stay within the house, and there were security guards everywhere. There was no way I could get out without being caught. I felt like a caged animal, cornered with no way to escape. I had to think of something, but my mind was racing. I felt panic rising in my chest, and I struggled to breathe. I had to stay calm, but it was so hard.

Javier There was this feeling that came with being trapped. It could do a lot of things to your head. Worse was when you’re trapped and your body is immovable. It could be really smothering, choking, make every energy in one’s body attempt to drain out... Saying I didn’t feel that right now, would be an understatement. “Hello?” I could hear myself saying. It wasn’t in reality, cause I had zoned out by now. It was somewhere…

I know full well it isn’t. I reach instinctively toward the small side table for my phone. My fingers brush nothing. Right. No personal devices. No external communication. Blackthorn Sovereign Academy severs outside contact upon arrival. Isolation is part of the conditioning. For the first time in years, I am unreachable. The realization is subtle and deeply unsettling. I left everything sorted, all systems streamlined and my aunt can handle the rest. But the fact I can't control the flow is gnawing at me fiercely. I stand up.

Something closing in. Something he could no longer control. And for the first time— Jonathan realized— This wasn’t just a mistake anymore. It was a trap. And it was already closing

I scowled, grabbing Seth's hand halfway and twisting it behind his back. Seth groaned in pain. "How can you be so petty to want to hit a woman and not just any woman but my woman! While I'm here! You're so funny," I twisted Seth's hand tighter, making it more painful. He struggled to release himself from my tight and painful grip, but he wasn't strong enough, and when I finally released him, he staggered back and forth, groaning in pain. "I told you she's not to be trusted, Seth! She betrayed you," Serena yelled, and Seth regretted not listening to her.

A hunting trap had snapped shut around my ankle and ripped through it. I tried pulling at the trap, but the metal wouldn't budge. It felt like it was welded shut around my bone. “Help!” I sobbed, “Somebody—help me! Please!” I squeezed my eyes shut as tears streamed down my eyes. I was trapped. Looking up, I wondered if I should climb up the walls. But the pit was deep and the walls looked too smooth to climb. Even moving was a hassle as it would only make the pain and the bleeding worse.

I feel cornered in ways I have never felt before, caged by invisible bars that close tighter every second. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? What am I supposed to think? I am trapped. Completely, utterly trapped. The only way out is to quit the program. But I cannot. I cannot even imagine it. To do that would not only undo everything I have fought for but burn it all down to ash. It would crush everything to the ground, leaving me with nothing but regret and the weight of wasted effort. So how the hell do I deal with this? Yup. My life just became officially, irrevocably messed up.

Even in times of confusion, the old me—the one who understood her predicament—knew that if I were to survive, self-preservation and common sense needed to overrule impulse. Now that I’d willingly entered Alton’s trap, survival was my new goal. The wheels of the limousine turned and time passed, but Alton didn’t offer anything more. No explanation. No enlightenment. With each ticking second, the silence loomed around us, settling like a cloud. The muted hum of tires against the pavement drowned out our breathing. There were no words or piped-in music; even Brantley remained silent, his silhouette beyond the clouded window barely moving. It was as if most of the world had stopped, leaving me a

I asked, interlacing my fingers that were placed on the bar table. “Yes… of course.” She readjusted her form, placing her hands under her chin. I can tell by the way she looks at me that she's ready to pay keen attention to whatever comes out of my mouth. “Well,” I blew a sigh as I squeezed the bridge of his nose, “Do you ever feel trapped? like having to be caught up in the decision you made of your own will? And it feels like you want to vent and terminate the one who'd set that trap and simultaneously find your way out of the trap.”

"It feels longer." "It always does." He was quiet for a moment. Then: "You're not trapped." I looked at him. "We literally can't leave." "You're not trapped," he repeated. "You're waiting. There's a difference." "What difference?" "Trapped means there's no exit. Waiting means the exit exists, you just can't access it yet. Your brain is responding to the first scenario. But we're living in the second one. The door will open. We just have to be patient until it does."