El Dia Que Se Perdio La Cordura Novels & Stories

**Marcus POV** Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, yet here I stood, a mere shadow of my former self. Denial was a comforting cloak, but it all shattered the moment Cassandra's body was laid to rest. The weight of grief crushed me, and I couldn't escape the relentless blame that swirled within. If only I had been more patient, if only I had let her go when she pleaded for freedom—none of this tragedy would have unfolded. I pressed my eyes shut, leaning against the couch, the only solace I found in the depths of a whiskey bottle.

Maybe I’m exaggerating, but Cassian seems completely clueless about Haven’s behavior. I take a deep breath and slip down the hall toward my dad’s home office. The door is slightly ajar, and as I push it open, my uncle jumps to his feet, scrambling. He’s not alone—a waiter is with him, and they were making out. “Oh my God! Sorry,” I stammer, quickly shutting the door and hurrying down the hall to my mother’s cozy living room, the one she uses to watch her Brazilian TV shows. Finally alone, I collapse onto the couch, questioning all my life choices. I can feel a depressive episode creeping in, and I wish I had something to take to stop my mind from spiraling.

' Once Christina saw Zaria, she grabbed her hand. "Ria, I'm so sorry... Elian had told me everything. I did not know my mind was still stuck in the clutches of the past. 2 years ago when I got into an accident, my memories ended up locked and the only permanent memories that revolved around my head were with me and Elian together." Zaria looked at her weirdly. Why Christina was talking so maturely and gracefully with her? What happened to her behaviour in these 3 days? Christina seemed to have become totally different. Her appearance was ordinary but she had a delicate air around her with her short hair that reached her shoulders.

I lost Marcus, and now I have to accept the fact that I'm also losing myself. It's been a month that I am keeping this to Maria; it's been a month since I started to feel this thing. I don't want her to get worried because I know her. I've been feeling uneasy this month, and then when I went to have a check-up, I found out that I had been sick for too long. It's hard to accept, but it's already happening. I didn't only lose Marcus; now I'm also losing myself. I'm losing everything.

It was the same night, and I perched beside the bed, my legs drawn up and my arms wrapped around them, seeking solace in their embrace. The world had lost its coherence, leaving me awash in a sea of bewildering emotions. Tears flowed freely, mingling with my thoughts as I tried to decipher the enigma that was Dima’s inexplicable actions. I reached for my phone, an electronic lifeline that, to my dismay, remained stubbornly out of touch with his. How could someone I had known intimately for so long suddenly transform into a perplexing enigma? It was as though our shared history had been a mere illusion, evaporating into the ether.

"Wanda, I'll find you. I swear I will. I'll get down on my knees and beg for your forgiveness if that's what it takes." Hundreds of messages, one after another, packed into the screen like a digital breakdown. Edgar had completely lost it. I uninstalled WhatsApp without a second thought. Out of sight, out of mind. I had truly believed Edgar would never find me again. But one day, as I returned home from teaching, the last person I ever wanted to see was standing at my door.

Even through the haze of alcohol, she had a fire in her. “Don’t you know how painful it is to be cheated on by the one you love most?” she snapped back, her voice cracked and slurred. She pointed to her chest, her expression twisted in pain. “It hurts like hell! I gave him everything he wanted! I sacrificed my fcking career so that he wouldn’t complain and in the end? He still cheated on me?! Fck him!” Then she broke, just like that. The wall holding her together shattered. Without warning, she collapsed against me, her sobs shaking her body as if they had been trapped inside her for years.

I didn't care. I lifted the bottle to my lips and gulped it down, gasping for air as I finished. My throat felt raw, but my heart was worse. It wasn't a hammered bird anymore; it was a hollow, aching void. “I lost him… I don’t know how, but I lost him forever,” I sobbed, the tears finally breaking through. “And without him, I am lost. I am so fucking lost, Jack. I don't know who I am anymore. Nana is gone… Cale is gone… there’s nothing left of the girl I used to be.”

"We just hold it, so it doesn't have to be afraid alone." Cord fell to his knees on the stone floor. The sixty-five-year-old man, who had coldly calculated the trajectory of a thousand deaths, broke down weeping in the center of the vault. He wept for the twenty-one days. He wept for the innocence the continent had lost. And he wept because the soulless, mechanical monsters he thought he had created were actually crying out with the voices of his own people. Jace walked over and put his small arms around Cord’s neck, hugging the weeping elder.

“All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day.” Never in my life did I believe there would be a day when a quote from a comic would relate so closely to me. But recently, I started feeling that the bad days in my life are far more than the good. I was so tired of fighting to keep my sanity. To fight to stay afloat of the sea of misery that was pulling me to its depths with every passing day. I didn’t think I had more strength to swim. I gave up.