Voice Stories Novels & Stories

I wasn't in the mood to keep going in their riddles. I was still glad and wanted to give them the news of the anonymous person who donated blood for Hope, without asking for anything in return. “Whatever,” I whispered, trying to walk out when Alana's voice boomed. “Don’t you care to know who was the subject of our conversation?” she questioned with a voice full of energy. “I don't think it's important,” I replied, rolling my eyes in frustration. “It’s about the paternity of your son,” I felt my heart skip a bit, as I halted my movement.

“Hello, this is the Grandview Newspaper team wishing you a lovely day. If you have an interesting story, topic, or incident you love to share with us, please send the details – including the story document, location of the incident, and any videos, images or screenshots – to this number on W******p. We treat every piece of information with utmost confidentiality, that is to say, we don’t reveal the identity of the sender. Thank you.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes every second, boiling with anger as I waited for that voice with a fake accent to shut the hell up! If only they knew the consequence of what their story has done, then they’d take a long break from hunting for trivial stories, t

“Now drink up…” “How is it that I don’t notice these things until the last minute?” Siel asked aloud, sipping from the large, steaming porcelain mug. The kids came back and then hugged V. They seemed to be tired, but right then, a familiar voice suddenly called out… “Hello, everyone! Welcome to our bonfire’s storytelling time!”, Myron announced in a louder and much more animated tone than his usual CEO’s Personal Assistant voice. “We have chosen ten stories from all of those that were submitted this Christmas, and we will be performing the selected ones in two parts. My beautiful wifey, Raquel, will help me with the voices and sound effects.”

Are they finally going to help me? "Sun meets the ocean... ocean meets the sun... stars scatter across the midnight sky..." said a little voice... singing. Unknowingly, my heart began to slow. "Walking in the forest... alone in the dark... listening to the woman's cry..." continued the voice. I'm not sure why, but... Listening to that wonderful voice makes me feel safe.

"Goodness me! Here I was thinking that Connor Shaw was saving himself for Anna Larson. Guess you can never trust the image these people from wealthy families paint for themselves!" "Connor Shaw is deplorable! Since he doesn't love Sylvie Waverly, why does he lust after her? How shameless!" Connor also got a call from a frantic Anna. "Connor, I can't believe that someone created a video like that using AI technology just to sully your reputation and get even with Shaw Group! I'll have the public relations department work to get the news taken down at once!" Connor's throat tightened. After a brief hesitation, he said, "The video's real."

He came home one night glowing with quiet pride, and I reminded him that he was already making the world better for the next generation. We clung to those wins while we waited for news on the appeal. Then, on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, my phone rang with an unknown number. I almost didn’t answer, but something made me pick up. “Mr. Brooks? This is Elena Vasquez from Horizon Media. We’d like to discuss producing a full-length documentary on your story. The good, the bad, the victory, and everything in between. We believe it could help a lot of people.” I looked across the room at Callan, who had paused what he was doing to watch me.

Victoria said, “they are also evidence of someone who sought help rather than collapsed under pressure. Which is not the narrative they think they’re holding.” I looked at her. “This only works if you’re afraid of it,” she said. “If you’re not afraid of it, it’s nothing.” I knew that. I had known it in the two minutes before I called her. But hearing Victoria say it in her precise, unembellished way confirmed the shape of what I already understood. “I want to give an interview,” I said. She looked at me. “Personal story. Full transparency. Not in response to this, not framed as a defense, just.” I paused. “My story. Told by me. In my own words. Before anyone else gets to tell a version of it

Mmmmuah"! A clap of satisfaction was given to him by the audience as he walked back to his seat. Mr Lucas collected the microphone and rounded up the speech with a joke, saying.... "Now that the grandfathers of triplets Amelia, Donald and Anderson have given their own vote of thanks, now it's my own turn to do so being their day's Master of Ceremonies". Everyone laughed as they clapped...to cheer him up. He began... "The title of my story is..."The Cat and the Single Hen"! He continued...

I'll be quick anyway. I slowly left the club room, and on my way to the bathroom, I could hear voices near me. I looked for where they were coming from since we were in a pretty isolated part of the school. I'd immediately jump out of the window if there were ghosts here. I finally found where the voices were coming from and peeked slowly from behind the wall. Surprisingly, it was Crimson and Scarlet. They were talking in front of the vending machine. "So, what's wrong with you?" Crimson asked as he handed Scarlet a drink.

Then, with a clear voice, I spoke out some lines, “if there is a story to be told, why should I not be the one to tell it? Do we all not have that choice to tell our own tales?” With another soundless breath of air, I changed the tone of my voice to mimic a different person, saying, “you always do this, brother! You let yourself think everything will be fine if only you can make it to a certain place or do a certain thing, but life is never that simple! You go into those woods and you won’t come back out again! The legends-” I cut myself off, changing my voice back to the previous one, my tone annoyed as I say, “I’m aware. I know the song as well as you do.”