True Story Book Novels & Stories

I take one last look at myself until I strike a pose and say,"Perfect," I hear mom from downstairs telling me to hurry up, so I grab my book bag and put on my glasses and was about to leave my room until I remember my most important thing. I go to my book-shelf and pull out a book that reads, Gone Girl by Giliian Flynn on the front cover. I've always loved mysteries; I can't remember one day where I wasn't watching Criminal Minds or Goosebumps in my room.

It was better to go vague with the situation, because the less I spoke, the less there would be holes in my story. “Like in the case of amnesia? Or in the case of: ‘there are too many people in my life for me to remember the life story of one more insignificant person’?” -What should I answer? What answer would be more…less… what seemed closer to the truth?- What the hell was the truth anyway? I was so sexually dissatisfied that I woke up in a book?? -Even I wouldn’t buy that! Still, I should stick within the confines of her choices, particularly the latter assumption. She already had a negative view of me. So what would be one more log to the fire?-

CHAPTER 21 I slowly opened my eyes and the first thing that I saw were the white curtains, white ceiling and windows. My mouth opened and my heartbeat suddenly started to beat faster. I touched my head and felt relaxed when I felt no bandage placed in there. I suddenly remembered all that had happened. My tears flowed and I couldn’t help but to cry uncontrollably. I touched my chest and I feel the pain inside. I closed my eyes… How can they do this to me?! To lie to me? How could they believe that I am Lee Shin Jin when my real name is Lucky Shen. I bit my lower lip just to hold the pain that I have felt right now. It hurts me!

Bubbles of air choked her throat, keeping the whispers back, letting out only a stutter at best. Monica took the King James Version Bible, raised it up with a hand and nervously gulped down, different panic and guilt thoughts raced through her head but she dismissed them - not totally. "I solemnly state I will tell the truth without hiding or adding anything and I should be punished for false testimonies if I lie." Her voice sounded mechanical, like the voice of a person reciting something written. I implore you to say the truth, just this once!

] The gorgeous girl glanced back at him as they stopped stepping, and replied, "Kingdom Saobar is known as the most complete collection of books kingdom since we have all the types of books," Zaykee nodded as he answered, "Ohh," "Then, what is the most famous book you have?" He added. "The Sacred Book of Truths," She answered as she stares at the road to he surroundings. "Ohh, what is that book?" Zaykee acted as if this is the first time he heard of it.

She sighed and decided to make do with the towel for now. Hailee's eyes fell on the bookshelf, and she decided to pick up one of the books. It was titled "The History of the Pack," and she couldn't help but feel intrigued. As she began to read, she was transported to a world she never knew existed. The pack's origins, their struggles, and triumphs - it was all so fascinating to her.

She pointed with her finger and ran it down these books looking for a particular cover. “I have been saving this story for the right moment.” She directed her son to sit in the chair and when he sat down, she gave him the book. It looked ordinary to him, but it was obviously special to her. “This is the story of a young man who found a friend while on a journey. It is called ‘The Tale of Meru’.” He looked surprised because he was half expecting another history lesson. “Are you sure you have the right book?” “Yes, Yvayn, I am. I am not as boring as you would like to think I am.”

But now it sat beside new additions—a photo of Lila’s first steps on the training ground, a drawing she had made of three figures holding hands under stadium lights. Truth had been told. Love had won. And in the years stretching ahead, it would keep winning—on the pitch, in their home, and in the legacy they left for every dreamer who followed. The floodlights waited patiently in the distance, ready for the next generation to write their own stories under their glow. The End.

I followed the trail of light, heart pounding, until a large projector screen came to life before me. At first, I thought it was a slideshow, but then I realized what I was seeing. Scenes from my journey. My first book cover. Behind-the-scenes photos from writing sessions. Footage from my Kyoto speech. A clip from a podcast interview where I’d talked about second chances. Each transition came with the sound of a page turning. And finally, the screen faded to black. Text appeared in soft white letters: Every story needs a truth at its core. You are mine. My breath caught.

Fuck. She looked like fire and elegance wrapped in gold. Her dress caught the light with every movement, fluid and commanding. Her hair was pulled back, but a few strands had broken free, curling around her face like they had minds of their own. Her heels clicked against the polished floor, unapologetic and sure. The room went quiet. And then she began. “I didn’t write this book to tell a love story,” she said, voice steady, sure. “Not the kind that ends in roses and rainbows. I wrote it to tell the truth—about trauma, about betrayal, about choosing someone even after the damage.”