Confusion Will Be My Epitaph Novels & Stories

The words echo in his mind, like a haunting refrain: "Maybe the fault would be in our ancestors, and mine. You were never the destined child after all." For a fleeting moment, doubt threatens to overtake him completely. Was he truly never meant to fulfill the prophecy, to bring glory to Vampyr's Legacy? Were his efforts in vain, fueled by a misplaced sense of purpose? A surge of anger rises within him, directed at himself, the ancestors, and also towards Leonard as he sees his figure gone by the door.

my heart burned with something else entirely. Confusion. Anger. And beneath it all, something I refused to name. "This isn’t over," I whispered into the empty air. Because it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

I gulp down the rest of my wine trying to rid my freak out. "I can do this. I can do this." I repeat under my breath over and over again. I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of confusion and despair! My head is just above water but I'm slowly sinking! I watch as the clock ticks closer to 6pm, the time my mates are due. I just sit there in silence, my eyes darting from the clock to the darkening sky out of the window.

I took a seat with it. I had exercised caution. thorough. Nothing that couldn't be explained or recontextualised with the appropriate framing, including evident incidents and tangible evidence. I had never lost my cool. Everyone who watched us had always seen me as the patient, loyal companion of a woman who had a shaky hold on her own memory. However, psychological impact doesn't leave scars. Confusion results from it. And confusion can turn into testimony when a person eventually gets over it and can see things clearly. can turn into a declaration. can develop into the kind of quiet, in-depth narrative that gradually gains weight.

I built an empire on code. But this... this laughter in the twilight, this peace earned, not taken? This is my legacy. And it is only just beginning. THE END

That the unknown is exciting and enthralling? Who said death had to be this morbid. If you’re crying, please stop. What if my death is a glorious celebration? Could you celebrate it for me? Could all of your dance, and sing my favorite songs around my soulless body? Again, Janna, please don’t cry. Don’t mourn. Don’t grieve. I am happy now. Happy. Truly happy. Believe this.” Then he looks up at me with a very confused look in his eyes, “Jenna, I did not write this letter.”

The sound of furniture being ravaged and gizmos being smashed drowned their conversation. I was enraged and I attacked anything I could find but at the same time, I felt offended. The feeling was conflicting and I was drowning in confusion. Maybe I was dead after all. Maybe this was what death felt like— Confusion in mayhem. Maybe death was anger. Maybe death was pain. Maybe death was worse than life. I always thought that it was the opposite. That death wasn’t as cruel as living. That death was peaceful and quiet, where no mate could ever cheat on you and no sister could get the chance to betray you.

For some reason, he asked Alvaro about his confusion. He even started to pull Alvaro onto his lap. Until they both looked at Dean's grave, "Confused?" Alvaro raised one eyebrow. "Often, uh, but confused in what sense first?" Kean thought for a moment. "I don't know, the point is that after they appeared and approached, The confusion was so great, it suddenly hit me." After saying that, Kean chuckled. It seemed unconscious, making Alvaro flinch. In that instant, Alvaro knew he had guessed wrong. Now, Kean was not calm.

“It’s the date this codicil was approved by your father.” I stared as my chest tightened. “Why?” he asked. “Is it significant?” My head bobbed, though I couldn’t form the words. “I-it’s the day he died.” The young man beside me sucked in a breath. “Th-that…” He stammered, “can’t be right. Maybe it’s a typo?” “It could be right. He died during the evening, a heart attack after he fell asleep.” They say that a quick and painless death is like being kissed by an angel. I always wondered how he warranted a kiss. Maybe this codicil was it?

It felt so wrong and I felt a gaping hole in my chest that didn't feel like it was going to disappear anytime soon. Ethan also talked about his funeral and I found it odd that he would talk about such a dreadful thing like his own death but now I wonder if, in some corner of his mind, he knew about his own death. The thought unsettled me and chilled me to the bones. He always said that being buried in a coffin sounded so meaningless and final to him like it was the end of something. And he didn't want his life to be bracketed between his earth and the day he was laid in the ground. He said he would much prefer if someone would just disperse his ashes into the air.