Novel & Cerita Walk On Water Chapter 1

Prologue: Whitney gaped at she and Hollis’ hotel room’s flat screen television in disbelief. She’d heard the Anchor crew mention it in passing before handing the story to their reporter, and couldn’t believe her ears. She’d since stopped packing and forced herself to sit down and pay full attention. Whitney’s fingers itched as she held the remote up to change the channel, but something prevented her from pressing the button. She felt a numbing sensation starting to travel upward from her toes as the Californian news reporter seemed to stare solemnly into her soul with intense amber eyes. The unmistakable flash of cameras went off behind her as she started walking along her sister’s street. A

Until, she subconsciously begins to slow. The pounding in the pavement softens, and her feet begin to slow to a walk. She stands before the green street sign. 'Florence Street,' it reads. The same street she remembered crossing the night before, the scene of the crime, so to speak. Hesitantly, she presses further down the street, her overactive mind once again craving answers. One foot carefully placed in front of the other until she is standing at the entrance to the park. The first thing she notices is the dark spot on the ground. It's long, and a shade of dark burgundy. Something crunches under her sneaker and she slowly lifts her leg to find glass. Actually, now that she looks around the

Outside the window, the rippling waves of the New York harbor moved steadily under the glow of the beautiful early morning light, accompanying the footsteps of their new destiny now cleansed of all the dark shadows of the past. END OF CHAPTER 286.

Outside London hummed on, grey and continuous, completely unaware that somewhere on the third floor of a building in East London a woman had walked past her own front door without slowing down — and for the first time in a very long time had not second-guessed herself once. No flood. No excuse. Just want. That was enough. End of Chapter 8

Words flowed in wild bursts: “Chapter One: How Roman Broke Me… Physically, Emotionally, Spiritually. Chapter Two: Why I Might Actually Enjoy It. Chapter Three: Wait, Stop, What Is Happening? Chapter Four: Billionaire Men Should Come With Warning Labels and Maybe a Consent Form.” Dorsey’s snort came suddenly, sharp, loud, and utterly inappropriate given the seriousness of my life’s drama. Soup sloshed in the pot. I jumped, pen nearly stabbing my thumb.

She stopped in front of me. “Walk with me little one” “I can’t walk on water” “In here, you can do anything” She extended her hand and carefully I took her hand and stepped onto the water… I was walking on water, I looked at the moon goddess “What is this place?” “This is your mind” “How did I get here?” “You called out to me no I came to you” “So this is all happening in my head?” “Yes” “And this is all a figment of my imagination” “Perhaps”

The blue ship did not hit a reef when its bow met the shingle; it simply came to rest with a soft, sliding crunch of cedar against real gravel. The black ink, the white margins, and the lead dust of the type-set island were gone, replaced by a wet, salt-laden tide that left clear, brilliant water pooling around our boots. For ninety chapters, every step had required a calculation, an entry, or a defense against a line of text. Here, the stones under our feet were just stones, grey and smoothed by a sea that didn't keep a database.

I couldn’t stop crying. And just when worse is not enough, my lungs are suddenly filled with water. I couldn’t breath. I feel like my head is underwater drowning helplessly. Is it too late now? I put my right feet forward with tears filled my eyes. Can I go back? I take one step followed by the next. I don’t want to die. I walk faster until I come running. And while I ran I heard a song play, but I guess it should not bother me anymore now that I know I am dead. Stand by Me

The water lapped gently against the porcelain as he pulled me closer, and the world outside disappeared for a while — just the sound of water, and hearts that had learned to beat together again. END OF CHAPTER

Watching. His eyes didn’t blink. Didn’t waver. I was naked. Wet. Flushed. Fingers still between my thighs. He stepped forward. And I couldn’t breathe. --- End of Chapter One