Five Heartbeats I Feel Like Going On Novels & Stories

Either move them somewhere else or they die. I was panicking. My heartbeat accelerated to one hundred and seventy per beat. My palms were sweaty. Fuck, he was going to get through by using my family against me. I had to do something.

CHAPTER 75~ RHYTHM OF MY HEART ~ ROMEO~ The rhythm of my heartbeat was increasing with every passing second. I could hear my heart thumping louder than usual. Usually, my heart beats four times slower than anyone. It was not like this before, it used to beat like a normal heart but with time I learned this art of controlling my heartbeat. It helps me beat my enemies more easily. They think I died because of my slow heartbeat, however, that was when I seized the opportunity to kill them. To tear them apart.

My thumb stops over it. Clinton. One click. That’s all it takes. But my hand just stays there, frozen. I sigh sharply and throw the phone onto the bed instead. “Forget him.” The words sound weak even to me. I press a hand against my chest because something still feels wrong inside me. Ever since this morning, my heartbeat hasn’t settled properly. It keeps skipping strangely, hard enough to make me stop breathing sometimes. At first, I thought maybe it had something to do with fainting earlier.

Blake’s heart began to beat fast and he felt a little short of breath. “Hi,” she greeted softly. “I’m Lacey. If you see something you like, let me know.” She had no idea who he was. “I do see something I like. You,” he heard himself say - and immediately regretted it. He couldn’t believe he said that out loud. It sounded like some pathetic cheesy pick up line a man going through a mid-life crisis would say. Lacey’s smile grew bigger, showing her perfectly straight teeth. Why is my heart beating so hard? I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack.

If my heart beats any faster, I will die. I just know it. My heart slams in my chest so hard that it's difficult breathe and remain quiet. I'm having issues getting enough air glow around the shirt, and my nose is stuffy from so much crying recently. Sweat freckles my forehead and I can feel most of me trembling. This is the moment I've both dreamed of, and dreaded. I'll either be free, incarcerated or dead soon I imagine. Kellan plants a chaste kiss on my forehead before answering the cellphone.

He concludes and in a matter of seconds slides of the bed and leaves through the door. I rest my hand on my heart that beats like a beast caged within my ribs. What is this fever?

"YOU CAN'T FIND ANYTHING ELSE." I felt the pounding of my heart speeding up like a machine driving its starter, I thought I was starting to suffer from a disease in my heart, such rampant beats were not normal. Gael didn't understand how much his actions affected me. His arms hovered around my waist, there was no space between us.

"Do you hear that? The heartbeats in this room... they're not in sync." I paused, my attention drawn away from the spell book. My pulse quickened, a surge of anticipation coursing through my veins. I closed my eyes, focusing on the rhythm that filled the space, and there it was—a dissonance, an irregularity in the symphony of heartbeats that surrounded us. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I placed a hand on my chest, feeling the erratic rhythm of my own heartbeat.

My heart pounded like drum in my chest, so fast, so hot, there is a massive flood of adrenaline that shot through me like a drug and made me feel deeply alive. Badump. Badump. ‘Oh come on! Stop beating so hard!’ Despite trying my best, I still feel like I was on fire and I might spontaneously combust in any moment, like someone had set a slow and steady match beneath my center, deep in the pit of my stomach. And when the bed bounced, I stopped breathing. ‘He’s on the bed.’ “For someone who said that you will do anything to see me open my eyes, you’re quite a shy one,” he said.

Only because our son begged to go to the amusement park, my wife, Nyla Frost, a wealthy heiress, ended up in a car accident on the way there, leaving her permanently paralyzed from the waist down. To punish us, she slashed our daily allowance to a mere ten cents. For the past three years, my son and I had no choice but to survive by scavenging through trash every day, even fighting the dogs for scraps. One day, my son was so hungry that he lost all reason. He ate a few crumbs of a cookie that our family doctor had accidentally dropped on the floor. My wife flew into a rage, accusing him of having filthy, thieving hands. As punishment, she made him stand outside in the pouring rain for th