Death Becomes Her I Want To Be Alone 소설 & 이야기

Her skin paled more then seemed to catch a faint glow under the moonlight as if stone had learned to shine. There was no breath coming back. There was no heartbeat stirring. Only the long terrible stillness, between death and becoming. I stayed beside the grave I had made. Outside the horizon was thinning towards dawn. If she woke up nothing would be simple again. If she did not I had damned myself for nothing. I fixed my gaze on her face. Then against all sense I waited

She was magic in a way that I had never been, and I was just a boy who did not want to be alone, who did not want to lose the only person who had ever looked at him like he mattered. She died on a Tuesday, and the snow was falling, and I remembered standing outside for hours after, letting the snow cover my shoulders and my hair and my face, wanting to freeze, wanting to disappear, wanting to follow her into whatever came next because the thought of staying in that house, in that life, without her, was worse than any death I could imagine.

The silence was deafening, and I was sure it would have been the same had we shared the same ride back home. I slowly turned to him, my anger only heightening even more with his perceived nonchalance. "You said she was the one who brought back the light in your life after your first wife cheated on you. You said she was the only one who..." "She is dead," he said, leaning forward to drop the cup of tea on the saucer. "You do not know her enough. You do not know her more than I do. She would have wanted this, too. She knows how much I sacrificed for the cartel."

He’s my first, yes, I said that I can do it with others for money but he should know that he’s my first and I did not give my body to others. I can’t breathe again; my head is throbbing. I want this to end, I don’t want to hear more anything to him. “Why are you crying now? Did you feel hurt in what I am saying, why? Omega like you hear it a lot. You guys are dirty little shit.” He left me, alone in this room. Oh, this must be how my mom feels when she’s alone. It’s too lonely… I want to die. Why there is always complicated situation in my life? Maybe death is only the answer to finish it all, I am too tired. I want to take a rest.

He was also crying but he still put me first because I felt like I was going to faint from what I witnessed. Just like in my dream. It is true that Don Jose is dead. His body was so decomposed that we buried him without opening the coffin. Just like papa, we will also cremate Don Jose's body. All relatives and acquaintances of Don Jose attended. Almost all the townspeople sympathized with the loss of Don Jose. Even so, security is still tight at the Mansion because Beth has not been caught yet.

she pulls my head back up "I'm-I'm not sad," I tell her surprised by my mind and feelings, "At all," I add "Well you never actually feel pain," she says "That's a condition, Mika. I feel emotional pain, or I was supposed to," My eyebrows furrow, "I saw him," I whispered "You saw him? Saw who?" She asks "Ha-Death I mean," I tell her turning to face her "You saw him?" She questioned as shock crossed her face, "I knew you were special," she whispers

The suffocating, drowning feeling closed in on me again almost instantly. Julian pulled a tablet out of his bag and opened a video, then shoved the glowing screen right up against my sunken eyes. The moment the image came into focus, my breath caught in my throat. On the screen was my sister, Amelia Bennett, the one person who'd always carried herself with pride and treated her dignity like her life. She was on her knees on the floor of Sutton Group's lobby. "Please, Ms. Sutton, please let Miles go. He's really sick… He's dying."

The glow in those eyes were growing brighter, and Annabel had this uncomfortable thought somewhere in her mind that if the sculpture got too angry, it could explode, killing her. “No.” Her voice was weaker this time. Still, she could not bring herself to killing a man that had done nothing to him. You just have to think it. What? Think it. Wish him dead. Make it happen. The voice snaked all the way into her mind, caressing it. Slowly, she was getting overpowered by whatever it was the statue was doing to her. She could not fight something that could speak in her mind, something that could, perhaps, control her mind.

Furious, Sylvia kicked my mother on the floor a couple more times. In a fit of panic, I lunged forward to shield my mother’s body. Unfortunately, the heel on Sylvia’s shoe still landed squarely on her form. Hearing my mother’s agonized cries, I came to a belated realization: I was dead. I had been dead for seven years. I was just a wandering spirit and powerless to protect anything. “Sylvia, Charles didn’t abandon you! He...” ‘He donated his organs to you and chose death for himself.’

Each cough sent waves of pain through my frame, though none of it hurt as much as the pain in my chest did. Just as I was losing consciousness, I saw paramedics rushing in to rescue people. When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed. The room was eerily quiet. Every now and then, I could hear nurses whispering in the hallway outside. "I heard that famous lawyer, Ms. Hudson, is in the room next door. She's keeping her first love company. I never thought someone who looks so cold on TV could be so gentle with her boyfriend!" "Yes, they make such a great couple!"