Trust Nobody Not Even Yourself Novels & Stories

“Because I have looked at you and I can tell, you don’t belong in this world. That is not meant to insult you. It’s just… the truth.” I roll my eyes. If I got a coin every time someone told me that, I would be drowning in wealth. When I don’t respond, she continues, “Unlike the others, I’m not trying to use you. I want to. . .” “How am I supposed to believe that?” I cut in. “You just said no one here can be trusted. So why should I trust you?” She shrugs. “You take a leap of faith.” “I don’t do that. I deal in facts, not faith.”

Another secret I held with Everett, who was someone who didn’t even fully trust me. Not even the friends I’ve made here could make me feel less alone. I was withholding from them, too. I was a fraud, a fake, a phoney. It’s only a matter of time before this all bites me in the arse and ruins me. ‘I-I… I’m s-so alone,’ I stammered, ‘I don’t know who I can trust. I can’t trust anyone… I just want the truth. I just want to know who I am! I don’t know what to do…’

But here he was, admitting that he was struggling with something—something bigger than business or family expectations. “I get that,” I replied softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s hard to trust people. I mean, really trust them. People say one thing, and then they do another. And over time, it gets harder to let anyone in. To believe that they’ll actually stick around, that they won’t just... disappear when things get tough.”

He shrugged. Trust him… He says that like I trust people for a living and I am just refusing to trust him. I thought that the only person we have to trust is ourselves… But to be honest, I don’t even trust myself… I’m not trying to sound like a bitch or something but if we see it all statistically, I have always led myself headfirst into the weirdest and most terrible of situations you could imagine. I mean, who on earth ends up in a mafia just because they were trying to forget their miserable existence by being super reckless?

She knew he was telling the truth about his feelings for her, but she didn't know if she could trust him after everything that had happened. "I don't know who to trust," Tangerine said, her voice trembling. "Everyone seems to have their own agenda, and I don't know what the truth is anymore." Ethero stepped forward. "Trust yourself, Tangerine. You have the power within you to see through the lies and deceit. You just have to believe in yourself." Tangerine closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She could feel the power within her, pulsing through her veins. She knew that she had to trust herself if she was going to figure out what was going on.

There's so much running you can do from the truth before you finally accept it. I'm not the type to promise girls; rainbows, flowers and forever. And even when I do, they won't believe me because I'm not the type that they can easily trust. If it was Jamie with his boring flannel shirts and glasses, everybody would trust their hearts to him easily and that I hate the fact that for once I'm jealous of him. With me, it's good that they distrust easily anyway. Lack of expectations won't hurt them, the problem is that I wanted them to have expectations or a little faith. At least now I know better and I'm going to accept myself fully for what I am.

I suddenly felt sad and envy, watching them smiling at each other. I miss them. I miss my so ordinary-plain life. If Janna and Mary was here, they would probably like it. I have no one to trust. I can’t trust Lady Marina’s parents, who knows what would happen if they found out I’m not their daughter? That I am just a parasite, using their precious daughter’s body and status. I can’t trust Lord Ethan, I can’t trust Rita, and I can’t trust anyone. All I could do is rely on myself and myself alone.

-"Do not hesitate. Just close your eyes for a few seconds. Trust me" Trust him? Isn't it an oxymoron? How can he ask me such a thing when he knows that whenever I trusted him he betrayed me? He imprisoned me, hurt me and treated me badly. Despite the sweet way he asked me to, I had my eyes open. I didn’t feel safe with my eyes closed. He looked at me disappointed.

"I have been fucked up since before him but guess what the only thing that gets me through the day is because I know I have to be there for my brother and my parents or else I may be the monster people run from." He looks back at me and looks concerned and worried. "I tried to make sure I was still the girl who loved flowers and sometimes I am but other days I am a fucked up person. Have you ever wondered I have never told any secret to you in my life it is because I was taught not to trust people. It takes me years to trust someone," I tell him. "So just imagine that I trust someone and fall in love with them. Then they turn into a monster. So now I just trust myself. So excuse me asshole f

The contact was brief, but it triggered a cascade of rapid-fire diagnostic checks in my neural link—a sudden, unmanageable surge of thoracic pressure, an increase in adrenaline, and a total, absolute silencing of my analytical monologue. "What is the component?" she asked. "Trust," I said. "Not the kind that I can monitor with a security feed, and not the kind that can be verified through a cryptographic handshake. The kind of trust that allows you to walk into a room full of predators, knowing that the man by your side is not your warden, but your equal."