Where Do I Belong Book Novels & Stories

Sometimes, I doubted it; could things be worse than this? But the only thing I could feel hit home was that we don’t belong in this world. Even if it was a total ramble, I never felt like I belonged here. There was never any room for me or my mom, for that matter. We were scum, a disgrace. It didn’t matter that I was a straight-A student with as good as full attendance at school. I would always be scum, something that belonged in the gutter.

I did not belong here. The restricted section wasn’t for people like me—not unless you had high clearance or knew someone on the inside. I had neither. I was good at getting into places and out again that people could not easily see, though, and desperation had its peculiar knack of opening doors that nobody intended you to go through at all. The book on my knees was bound in a cracked leather, loose at the seams, and torn here and there in the spine. Symbols danced across the page, some I recognized, others that seemed to shimmer just out of comprehension. But I kept reading. I had to.

Like he had been frozen in place and was only just remembering how to move. “Right,” I said, easing into my chair. “Thanks, I guess.” Darren set the papers down, then hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Do you ever feel like you don’t really belong here?” he asked suddenly. The question caught me off guard. I met his gaze, and for a moment, I could almost see something lurking behind his eyes. Something unreadable. “What do you mean?” I asked cautiously. He let out a small, humorless laugh. “Just that… people like us, we don’t exactly fit the mold, do we? No matter what we do, no matter how hard we try, there’s always something… off.”

I have never felt this accepted anywhere. I wanted to belong somewhere and it feels like I can. I belong here. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I have found my place. This is my niche. I suddey feel fiercely protective over it. I have already accepted the responsibility. I want to guard it. Keep it if I can…

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~Ezinne~ I couldn't understand what was happening to me. Was it because they acted like I was invisible, which triggered painful memories, or was it the way they told me to leave, making it clear that I didn't belong? Feeling like you don't belong is tough. It's hard to see the point in status if there's no love. But why was I suddenly so caught up in wanting to be accepted? I hadn't come here looking for acceptance. I never imagined I would long for someone's trust or affection. I had come here with revenge in mind. So, I'm confused by the way my heart feels so heavy by their coldness.

"If you have even a shred of self-awareness, you will stay far away. Don't come. You don't belong anywhere near us." Elvie didn't scold her this time. She just watched, her smile still perfectly in place, her gaze shifting between Renee’s fury and my shattered expression, as if observing a game she had already won. I clutched the heavy invitation tightly in my hand, the paper crinkling under my fingers. Her words cut deeper than ever before, but this time, they were mixed with the weight of the invitation I held. ‘They invited me. But Renee is right… I don't belong. I never have.’

“I don’t know… I don’t know if I can do this. And I don’t know how I can help anyone else if I can’t help myself. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel like I belong.” “You belong here, Ru.”

“I do because I’m here taking up space in a house where I was never supposed to exist.” “You’re here because you’re family,” I said quietly. “Even if it doesn’t feel that way yet.” A tear slipped free, tracing down her cheek. “It doesn’t,” she admitted. “It feels like I’m a stain they can’t scrub out.” I reached across the table, covering her trembling hands with mine. “You’re not,” I whispered. She looked at me, searching for something in my face. “I don’t know how to belong here,” she choked out. “You don’t have to figure it out today,” I told her. “Or tomorrow. Or even next week.”

“Now you argue because you know you belong here.” My smile faded slightly. Because he was right. I looked around the penthouse. My books were on the shelves. My sister's things were in the guest room. Kai's laptop sat beside my notebook. Two lives that had once been completely separate now existed in the same space. Not because one had swallowed the other. Because we had made room. I turned back to him. “I do belong here.” His hand tightened around mine. “Yes.” “And so do you.” His smile was small.