Beautiful Misery Novels & Stories

here I was drowning myself in self-pity. What was worse was the fact that my fiance had severely injured my mother over something that could have been handled by the authorities which now was something I could no longer use due to my fiance being the center of the damage control that was to take place if the police were to be involved. From floating on air to crashing face first into the sidewalk of misfortune I found myself lost/confused and hurt beyond measure from all of those I once held close to my heart. I felt alone and confused about what I should do next with José, would I forgive him for what he has done? Could I ever forgive her or him...was I capable of being sympathetic to eith

Problem was, a sober Mikaella Sandoval was difficult to talk to and hard to please. He already gave her freedom back to her little work but she still acted coldly. "I'm scared you know. Being alone almost half your life ain't easy, see when I left everything behind which was your fault for getting me pregnant but no one is pointing fingers; I thought that I wouldn't think about them but I miss them. I miss Gus, do you miss anyone?" "No, now get back to sleep or at least pretend to. It's already midnight" "I'm not tired. I still want something. I want you"

"Don't you understand yet? I know you, dear Bailey. I've been watching you. Waiting for you. You have no secrets from me. Let me see . . . orphaned only last year. Recently single after your boyfriend took up with your best friend. Such a lonely, desperate girl. No one left to love you. No one to notice you're gone. What a sad, pathetic human you are." Tears rolled down her cheeks at his bleak assessment of her life. Less a life than a tale of depression. The creature inhaled deeply. "Ah, the sweet smell of misery. You truly do tempt me to taste your essence. To drain every drop of your blood until you pass into oblivion." "So do it," she replied, her voice lackluster. Perhaps she could hope

“I don’t know how Kill did it. How he endured you. Touching you, seeing you. It must’ve been torture. Covered in scars, all bones — you’re a sore sight for any man’s eyes.” Tears slipped down my cheeks, but the sting of the insects felt distant , like pain remembered, not lived. The ache in my chest was louder. Deeper. Was I really that ugly? That disgusting? Bitch. Ugly. Disgusting. No man will ever love you. You’ll never find happiness. You should’ve died with your mother. Die, die, die, you whore. And just like that, darkness took me. And I didn’t fight it this time.

The tears continued to fall unchecked, mingling with the blood and water that still clung to my trembling body. At that moment, I knew that there was no coming back from this. I was tainted, damaged beyond repair by the horrors inflicted upon me. And as darkness overtook me, swallowing me whole in its suffocating embrace, I realized that there was no hope left for someone like me. I was lost. Broken. Alone. And there was nothing left for me but endless suffering in a world devoid of light or love.

“Kill me. I've lived a life of misery, known nothing but pain since the day I was born.” She paused, sighing heavily. “I don’t know what you have in store to make my life miserable, but I doubt it could be worse than what I’ve endured within these walls. Look at me... just look at me. Do I look like someone who’s ever tasted the sweetness of life?”

Feeling pathetic and miserable. Her room was messy, she lacked the energy to do anything other than eat and sleep, life passed like a blur to her. the stabbing feeling in her chest not lessening. She hugged her knees on the floor groaning in pains and agony, living was becoming harder every passing day. She looked at the knife that she had used to slice fruits some minutes ago, it was calling to her. She crawled to it and picked it up. Here was a chance to end her misery, she could just slit her throat and die right away. It wasn't as sharp as she wanted it to, slitting her throat swiftly will be a difficult task.It would be too painful.

Then she laughed. I did too, and the sound came out bitter, breathless, almost broken—not joy exactly, but something adjacent to survival. Misery, it turned out, could become absurd if it lasted long enough; it sat beside you at enough tables, interrupted enough kisses, ruined enough weather, and eventually, one either screamed or laughed. Mitha shook her head, still looking half furious with me, half fond. “We are ridiculous,” she said. “We are tragic,” I countered. “No,” she said, pointing one claw at my chest. “I told you years ago. Tragic is suffering with better posture. We are ridiculous.”

She clearly hadn’t expected me, the person she could always manipulate so easily, to refuse being controlled this time. A flash of malice crossed her eyes before she pointed at me and exploded. “Sadie, how can you accept them? You have no shame at all! Taking handouts from people like this makes you no different from a beggar on the street!”

I blanche and shiver with the sudden wave of cold fear that courses through my body. “Are we ever?” Meadow smiles, leaning in and rubbing my belly with affection, eyes softening, and then grimaces and casts a glance Carmen’s way, almost guiltily. I feel Meadows sudden drop in mood, the instant regret at being so careless and hurtful and I’m at least glad to see Meadow has found an ounce of her compassion again. Carmen turns to walk away and seems to be trying to look busy, keeping her eyes averted and her face straight while giving no hint of her emotions away. I can’t ignore them coming from her though, and how overwhelming they are in this moment, in small confines. The pangs of heartbreak