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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



Fiction genre suitable for people of all ages. Everyone will find something interesting for themselves. Our electronic library is always at your service. Reading online free books without registration. Nowadays ebooks are convenient and efficient. After all, don’t forget: literature exists and develops largely thanks to readers.
The genre of fiction is interesting to read not only by the process of cognition and the desire to empathize with the fate of the hero, this genre is interesting for the ability to rethink one's own life. Of course the reader may accept the author's point of view or disagree with them, but the reader should understand that the author has done a great job and deserves respect. Take a closer look at genre fiction in all its manifestations in our elibrary.



Read books online » Fiction » Mind Screams by Susan H Trought (red white and royal blue hardcover .txt) 📖

Book online «Mind Screams by Susan H Trought (red white and royal blue hardcover .txt) 📖». Author Susan H Trought



I staggered into the door, crashing it open with my shoulder and holding on to try to steady myself.

The spinning lights were weaving a fairground in front of my eyes.

The bedroom was dancing in a tireless frenzy of uncoordinated, buzzing movement. Even the floor was undulating and, as the waves reached me, I was forced to slide down so that I was suddenly sitting on the floor, my dress hitched up to mid thigh level.

I shut my eyes to try to blot out the jumbled images which tumbled and scattered into my befuddled brain.

The noises began then – zooming, swooshing sounds which came and went like the ebb and flow of the tide on a shingly beach.

More by good luck than good management, I had arrived at my own bedroom door. It was fortunate that I had been invited to spend the night. There was no way I could possibly have found my way home.

Roger certainly would not have taken me. He was too busy chatting up that little bottle blonde with the tarty dress and the bright red lipstick which had smeared onto her teeth. And no doubt later on his!

I could still hear her too loud laughter as she gazed up at him. I could not really blame her. She could not have known that she was only the latest in a long line of conquests.

I knew when I had accepted the invitation for both of us that this is how it would end. It always did.

Shaking my head, but hardly daring to open my eyes, I tried to ease myself back up into a standing position, leaning once more against the door.

Rising surges of nausea hit the back of my throat and I swallowed hard, breathing deeply and feeling the protestations of my stomach.

Perhaps if someone had asked me to dance or even talked to me it would not have been so bad. But they must have felt the walls I had built around myself as I sat near the drinks table and watched them.

The hatred welled up inside my heart and I let out a long, growling scream, hardly sounding human.

I lurched forward into the bedroom and reached out for the dressing table, but as I stumbled the mirror shattered into a million silver, glistening shards.

I picked up a long jagged dagger and turned it over in my hands, staring at my distorted reflection.

*

Later, much later, images of Roger and the blonde, first laughing and then opening her eyes wide in terror and screaming, flickered unwanted before my eyes.

Warm redness, warm sticky crimson blanketed me. I could smell the metallic tang.

A flash of mirror light speared through my consciousness then, but it was tinged with the blazing blush of horror. Red, spurting warm all over her.... and Roger.

What in God’s name had I done?

No! NO! I tossed my head from side to side on the pillow not wanting to remember any more, but the murdering, slicing spear reappeared, stabbing, stabbing!

I sat up abruptly hugging my knees, fearful, sweating, and trembling.

A sudden glint of mocking light pierced the darkness, and there it was lying on the floor.

Imprint

Publication Date: 05-05-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To my children and their children - with love

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