Even After Her Death Novels & Stories

She is no more in this world. After her death, many things have changed in me. After losing her I understood that she wasn't just my mistress. She was something else to me. She was the most special person for me. Unknowingly, I loved her but couldn't tell her because of my stupidity. I never thought that she will leave like that. After her death, I have lost my interest in life. My sister is still mentally unstable. I have lost a person whom I loved and killed my baby because of my stupidity.

Yolanda’s body finally crumpled to the ground, lifeless and devoid of vitality. Her death came swiftly, so fast that she barely had time to utter a final cry. The air was thick with a profound silence, as if even the wind had come to a standstill. Everyone fell into a heavy silence, gazing at her lifeless form, as though reflecting on the chaos and suffering she had wrought. Her death marked the end of a chapter, a grim resolution to the torment she had caused.

Together, we bid a final goodbye, and the coffins are lowered into their final resting places. The funeral ends, and the mourners disperse, leaving behind a sea of flowers and memories. Karma's heart remains heavy, but she knows she's not alone. The Delacroix family, her family will stand by her, a constant reminder of love and support, as she navigates the darkness of her grief.

I could say that it's another kind of death, but she has probably been through every single type and been the cause of various instances of death of different people in her lifetime—death by fire, by crushing, by other things, and deaths that just happened because of her and a misjudgment of the situation. She has been through it all, and so she definitely understands. Is she depressed now? I question myself internally, looking straight up at her and seeing the determined glint in her eyes. She's right—if she's still alive, then it's not time for her to go yet. She has simply come to accept death and understand that it's the cause of things. People die, and she will die in the end, but until

The last image before I could remember was Winston signing the agreement to donate his remains. Then he was lying in our home, calmly making his last phone call. "Hello, I'm dying. You can come now." With that, he cut his wrist. "Aryanna, I'm coming for you." But I turned around and went away, not looking at him. Another tiny grave had been added to the high green hill, and that little grave sat at the foot of the hill. We would never meet again.

She lived from the heart, lived with every fiberShe hadn’t always done it, though. After her favorite people had done it, Helen too had given up life, as if it were a low-paid job. Death is a funny thing. When someone dies, the sun rises the next morning, as if nothing has happened, and punctually it sets again at night. Even though someone is dead, the train platforms are just as busy as before. Someone has died, and the people simply go on with their daily lives. They meet up with loved ones in the evening, and continue to complain about the coffee that burns their lips, the boss who won't give them a break, the partner who almost suffocates them with love.

And here she was, the one who had motivated her into doing the things she never thought she would be able to do was already dead, his lifeless body already destroyed by fire and his Spirit transcending into a world beyond visibility. She screamed as her father told her the words of the demise, she fell to the ground in agony as she cried an ocean of tears, her mind already broken down by the tragedy she still couldn't fathom. Then strength he displayed was incredible and uncontended with, but how would that had happened to a man she knew was possibly the most powerful of all. But then she came to realization, puzzling over his death would never bring him back to her and so she had to live on

But She fell into depression, and in a few months, she died slowly. The last night when she was on her deathbed she requested to meet me. That was the first and last time I met her after that incident. And she died on my arm.

she whispered with love. The sound of her voice broke me. I touched her face, my fingers shaking. Her skin was warm. She smiled, her eyes shining. She was alive. How? I had seen her die. Coco’s dagger had ended her life. But now she stood here, untouched. Was I dead too?

The way she plays with it warns everybody away. Her lifeline is just death, piss her off and an early grave becomes inevitable. I could see why they call her After. She's exactly what one looks like when there's no more life to live. You just kept breathing, every human emotion- dead. I rode that path months ago. I am in the finishing stage, the one you get when you are just about done. And it is because of that reason Zero and I just can't be, I know he knows it now but we haven't spoken the words yet.