Voice Stories Novels & Stories

That made me smirk for some reason. “I found something you may be interested in,” Vadas told to the minister. “Is that about border conflict from yesterday?” “Yes. And I have a few details about the undersea matter.” That was interesting. “Good, but it’ll wait until tomorrow.” “As you wish.” With that, we left our host, as a few more guests were waiting at the door to be greeted. I must find about that conflict tomorrow. And what is with undersea? Vadas distracted me with an invitation for the first dance. We socialized for some time with various creatures presented there. I wanted to win a couple of dances with foreign ambassadors, to learn their people's opinions about this war.

She was on the verge of losing it. "No! Please, don't tell them! I'll talk, Matty! I'll tell you everything!" Hearing this, Matteo finally loosened his grip. "Start talking." Rebecca gasped for air, coughing violently as the rush of oxygen burned her throat. However, she didn't dare stop. She gasped sharply, her voice breaking. "Y-You can check my phone!" Frantically, she unlocked her phone and handed it over with shaking hands. "I didn't do anything! This is all a misunderstanding!"

After two rings, a woman’s voice answered, “Pristine, I wasn’t expecting your call tonight.” “It’s urgent,” I said quickly. “I need your help.” “What kind of help?” she asked. I could almost hear the smirk in her voice. I took a deep breath. “I want to push a story. A narrative about Alexander. It has to go viral.” There was silence for a second. Then she said, “This sounds interesting, please go on.” “I want it everywhere that I broke up with Alexander,” I said slowly, choosing my words, “because he physically abused me.”

Tears streamed down their faces as they clung to each other, whispering names, memories, and half-finished sentences filled with raw emotion. Amelia and Blake stood awkwardly by the side, watching the emotional reunion unfold. Blake cleared his throat. “Well... this is dramatic.” Amelia shot him a glare. “Have some respect.” Blake smirked. “I am respecting it. I’m just saying, if this were a movie, it’d be the part where the background music swells.” Amelia rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. The two older women finally pulled back, wiping their tears. Evelyn cupped Ruby’s face, her eyes shining with disbelief. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

"The proposal" I wiped my tears as I heard a knock on the door. “Lana, Are you there honey?” I heard my dads voice. I walked towards the door and let him in. “I’m sorry, I was studying so I closed the door.” I spoke to my dad in a shaky voice. My father sat down on my king size bed that had satin sheets which were slightly messed up. He said, “I’m your father Lana, I can understand your emotions even when you don’t say anything. Come here” He hugged me as I sat beside him.

Of louder lives teeming with breathless sagas and lessons well-learned. “It’s a common fear, that.” He took a step into the room. “Especially with those who appear quiet at first glance but live their lives loudly on the inside.” A small smile. Another step. “Oftentimes, and this is what I’ve found, visiting someone else’s story can give one the courage to find their voice. To share their own tales.” He clasped his hands in front of him, the fingers laced into fists resting below his hips. “To write their own books.”

Thank you God… One moment I was thanking God for the timely intervention, the next my heart stilled so hard I could feel the weight in my throat. The MC’s voice rang through the speakers. “Y'know, I haven't felt a story so captivating I want to know the whole story. Or what do you guys think?” The full hall screamed yes. At the sound of that, my heart left my ribcage and stayed in my mouth. A victorious smile grew on Asher's face. “Yeah.. so Victor, tell us exactly the person or people behind your story. We're all eager.” Victor's smile widened then he spoke into the mic.

he said without hesitation. That certainty warmed me and scared me a little. By midmorning, the outside world came knocking again. Legal representatives. Advocacy groups. Media outlets offering platforms and partnerships. It was overwhelming. Ryan helped me sift through the noise, his presence grounding as always. “You don’t owe anyone access,” he reminded me. “Just because they want your story doesn’t mean they deserve it.” I exhaled. “I don’t want to become a headline.” “You won’t,” he said. “You’ll become a voice if you choose.”

… Three days later, I was discharged from the hospital, holding my baby in my arms. Ever since he was born, I had never heard the child's voice in my head again. Instead, he was obedient and sweet—nothing like the thing that had spoken from my womb before. The difference was night and day. As for why, I had known the answer all along. That elderly man I had run into on the road had said, "This life doesn't belong to you! You must leave at once!" Those words were never meant for me. They were meant for the thing inside my belly.

"For an initiative. Something connecting food identity and cultural narrative across borders. Stories that travel the way spices travel. From one kitchen to another. Across countries. Across distances." "What did you call it." "Voices Beyond Borders." "How did you fund it." "I sold my car. With help from Elena. We rented a small studio." "And then." "I built it." Cole picked up a document from the table. "Ms. Valentine. I'm going to read some facts into the record and ask you to confirm them. Voices Beyond Borders received government backing in its first year of operation." "Yes." "It currently operates across multiple countries." "Yes." "It has active partnerships across four continents."