Romans & histoires A Little Life Trigger Summary

It was a small spark, a faint glow that flickered to life deep within me. A tiny smile touched my lips, faint but real. It was a fragile thing, easily extinguished, but it was there, and that was all that mattered. For the first time, I felt like I hadn't truly lost. I carried life inside me, something that gave me a reason to fight again. As I lay there, surrounded by the sterile smell of the clinic, I felt a sense of hope that I hadn't felt in a long time. It was a small thing, a tiny flame that flickered in the darkness, but it was enough.

Elara’s POV~ Dad seemed stronger this morning, his cheeks were less swollen, and his eyes somewhat brighter. Yet there was still such a frailty to him that it twisted my heart. I held onto my notebook whose well-worn pages contained remnants of my former life and clues I’d assembled in this one. I’d come to see how he was, but also to dig for answers — answers about the shooting, about the poison, about the shadows that had followed me through two lifetimes. My parents’ deaths had been passed off as an accident in my past life, but I’d eavesdropped on their whispers of liquid silver, just like the poison that most recently almost claimed Dad. I couldn’t leave it alone, not when every instinc

*** GIANNA *** Back to reality. As soon as the plane landed, I felt the change. All day, I've been avoiding thinking about this, about going back to my real life, but I guess there was no escaping it now. Although I sat in the car with the Russo family, I already felt the loss. The weekend is one I'll store away in my mind for those rainy days to come because I'm sure I'll never have another like it.

Ten minutes past already since the robbers entered the Mist. They lined al of us up and collected our phones. I had my burner phone with me and through it in the bag. Angela stood across from me with little one in her arms. Little one hid his face in her neck crying that he wants his papa. Everyone's looked down crying softly to them self, being scared to death of being killed. I looked at Angela and none of this affected her in anyway.She wasn't scared as the rest of the people. Angela is serrounded by danger.She lives a dangerous live, and this is nothing compared to when you go to war.

With a gesture she invites me to sit down and I do it again when I put the chair back in its place. “It's normal the exaltation you just had. But I want to explain something to you, can I,” she asks a little cautiously and I nod, “perfect. Allie, you won't always have the power to decide what will happen to you, sometimes life can be cruel and decide for you but what you do decide is how to face the situation” I look at my hands in my lap with my eyes fixed on my feet, while I play with a small thread hanging from my blouse.

What I can't tell my mother I tell my grandmother because she is so much more understandable and she is always of good advice. Our life is worth what it cost us in effort. What is life? A delirium. What is life? A shadow, an illusion, and the greatest of goods are hardly counted. Yes, all of life is a dream, and dreams themselves, what are they? Dream!We are all resigned to death; it is to life that we cannot resign ourselves to, the root of the problem is that humans stop at the superficial side of what is life, I know it and I feel it there ' has a lot more than that, and I want to live it, I want to live happy days, when I see other people laughing out loud and going out, having relations

He turned back to the people gawking at him from behind and noted the gazes they shot him. It was how Faye and her family looked at him—it triggered a long, drawn-out sigh that he tried to stifle. He did not expect anything of what had happened to—well—happen, never in his wildest dreams. Then again, that is what life was. One could try their damnedest to map out a script of how their life should go, hunched over a large drawing board churning out contingency plan after contingency plan. Even after all of that, there was an element of chance and luck one could never account for. No one could be the sole master of their life. The future would always be uncertain, nebulous, and poorly-defined.

Livv and I, what we had was one of the best days I had in my entire life. He made me feel like I am special, needed to be treated right, giving me the love I didn't know I deserve but I know that the show must go on. Things were bound to happen, love was not enough. I had to do something, for Roana, for my mother and this is where it all began, the untold lies. "Don't touch her!" Livv, emphasizing each word the man's grip on my wrist tighten more as I winced in pain, feeling his nails dugs into my skin. I heard his father laugh.

This is the story of a young man with a secret talent who plays good samaritan and finds himself at the center of a battle bigger than himself... but he won't be alone! At least that's part of the gist for now.😅 Now let's see how it goes… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "The ghosts in my house wouldn't be so bad if they could just stop trying to cook" which will not appear in this form because it's allowed to work around them and so I did.

he taunted, "Do it before I get to you.’ My chest heaved as my heart aggressively sent a rush of blood to my head. This was it. This was supposed to be the moment where I closed my eyes and let my life flash before me in a second, before I pulled the trigger. But my eyes remained open, stalling Vincenzo. Not because I feared death. But because there was nothing to remember. No happy memories, no warmth, no whiff of hope to cling to before the end. My life had been nothing but a cycle of suffering and regrets. There was nothing for me to live for. Vincenzo decided I was wasting time and lunged toward me in a blur. I acted quickly. Taking in one final breath, I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled