Truths Untold Novels & Stories

Here is what they do not teach you about telling the truth: it is not simply the opposite of lying. It is an active, deliberate, sometimes terrifying choice to hand someone the most accurate version of events and trust that accuracy is enough. Some mornings it is not enough. Most mornings it is the only thing that holds. Z.Cole, notes written at nine p.m. on a Thursday that lasted three days She called Sade Williams at eleven-thirteen a.m.

“If you don’t, you won’t like the outcome. Because some truths, once uncovered, can never be buried again.” With that, the door shut closed. A suffocating silence descended. I remained frozen, staring at the spot where he had been standing. “Some truths, once uncovered, can never be buried again.” His words replayed in my mind like an endless tune. What truth was he talking about? Was it sbout me? Or…Sophia? I looked at the business card on the bed. My fingers trembled as I reached for it. My fingers tightened around the card as the scene of Sophia’s reddened eyes flashed in my mind.

Outside, the city moved on — cars, lights, noise — everything continuing as if nothing had changed. But for Amara, everything had. Because in that moment, she realized the most dangerous stories weren’t the lies people told about you — They were the truths they twisted just enough to sound real.

A line I could not step back over. He had taken time out of his busy day to call me about a breakfast conversation that worked. And here I sat, unable to open that evidence folder or return my editor’s calls. I stared at the dark phone screen, knowing a truth I could never forget. And the story that could destroy his entire world waited in a plain folder with a boring name. I had no clue, how those two truths could live together in one life. But they did. They were both real. And I had run out of ways to pretend they were not.

He insisted I crouch by the door to listen to their voices. "On October 6th was Xavier's birthday. I summoned the courage to tell him the truth, but he said he would only listen if I finished all the cream on the cake on the table. He knew I was allergic to cream and couldn't eat any." ... The notebook contained records of events from nearly four years. With every page I read, my body temperature dropped, and countless images flashed through my mind, like someone stabbing me with a knife, causing excruciating pain. It was him, the man I dreamed about, Xavier Quinn.

She thoughts she has won because she shouted at him and filled his ears with rumours from jobless people who made gossiping their daily routine as if they will get millions of money or awards for each rumour they made. Rumours are true, people will not see a fire without smoke, they will never say what they didn't see or happened, the problem is they will add a huge portion of lies to it; five per cent of truths they saw or happened and ninety-five per cent of lies, big lies. And the strangest and funniest thing about rumours is that people tend to add their own exaggeration; lies as they gossipped or passed to another person, that person will add his/her own exaggeration; lies and passed to

“What’s wrong babe” She eyes roamed the area and landed on the two guy standing behind them. “They are twin brothers and also my best friends, Ethan and Nathan”. Paul explained but Sarah was not interested. “Can I have a word with you privately”? She requested. He led her up the stairs into his bedroom and when they got in she wasted no time in throwing questions at him. “How much are you hiding from me Paul”? “What do you mean”? Her voice came out slowly, almost in a whisper but loud enough for Paul to hear. “I trusted you Paul. But you didn’t trust me enough to even show me where you live or to tell me shit about yourself”. Her voice trailed off at the end.

The last color of our rainbows, the missing piece of our songs, the one who'll complete our untold stories. This is not just the right time... "Mr. Timothy Kim, what can you say about this issue that you're drinking alcohol that night?" the conference hall went silent and they just waited Timothy's answer, like they're craving for it. "No, I'm not. Those are just rumors. I went to that convenience store to buy some of my favorite drinks. I just want to make it clear everything. Not all you see is the truth, and not all the words you hear about me, about the Metamorphosis are real. To all our fans out there... please, believe in us." He said in front of the media and reporters.

She appreciated the nothing. "The speaking of it," he said eventually. "In the room. How do you feel about that?" "Honest answer?" "Always." "The speaking part doesn't frighten me. I've been speaking truths in rooms for a year — it's the only strategy that has ever worked." She looked at the ocean. "What I'm working through is that the truth I have to speak includes things about my family that they haven't heard from me before. Not because I was hiding them — because I was still learning them myself." She paused. "Alexander doesn't know everything in this file. Nolan doesn't. The brothers are going to hear things in that room that will reconfigure parts of their history, the same way hearing

You told one lie and then you couldn't stop telling more of them. But – oddly and incredibly – what Claire discovered was that telling the truth was exactly like that. Once you told one real, shining true thing, then you wanted to tell another one. Then another. Then you were tempted to just lay it all out, just go for total, hell-for-leather honesty. This was especially the case if you hadn't told the truth in a long time, the way that she hadn't. Truth was liberating, she thought as she lay next to Jack's naked body, and it was empowering, and after she'd told Jack one true thing, then she'd had a damn hard time stopping herself from telling him every single true thing that she knew.