Five Years Wasted Novels & Stories

Five Years Later Othon Arraes I gaze out the window of my new house, lost in thought. I reflect on the twists and turns, or rather, the absence of them in the last six years of my life. A sense of stagnation seems to have set in, as if time had decided to freeze just as Karen, that name echoing in my mind, vanished without a trace. Accepting the position of director at Curitiba's largest hospital was, in a way, a desperate attempt to introduce some significant change into my existence. I feel tired, not only physically, but also from this relentless search for the mysterious woman who has become the protagonist of my most vivid memories.

I was grateful for that simple act. ‘Just five years. Five years, and I will be done. They would pass in the blink of an eye, and when I looked back, I would laugh and say that it was one of the best decisions of my life. It would be worth it. Mom would no longer be sick, and we would have enough money to start a business and live a comfortable life. The five years would be worth it.’ I took a deep breath and pressed the tip of the pen to the crispy paper. With a swift, smooth movement, it glided on the surface, and just like that, I had signed myself away.

Cara agrees and I smile because I said the truth, in five years, I hope I still have my girls, hope I am married to Caden, and hope Xavier, Damian are back, they've been gone enough. "In Five Years, do you know that's a book." Violet muses and I look at her in amusement, she is deviating. "Yeah?" I say, amused. "Yes, it's about this woman, her life -- " She sees our expression and shuts up temporarily about the story I am sure she'd continue later. "In five years, I want to be, drum rolls please, alive. I want to be alive." She says with a grin on her face. A chill goes through me, and I want to cry for a reason I do not know, I try to keep it in, but I just burst into tears.

They sliced my skin open as I pushed through, but pain didn’t matter anymore. Ten meters later, I burst onto a mountain trail, and from halfway down the slope, modern skyscrapers shimmered in the distance. When I looked back, the “lord’s estate,” the place that had stolen five years of my life, was nothing more than an old-fashioned villa hidden in the hills. I stared at it, stunned, wanting to laugh at the absurdity, yet tears fell instead. Five years of humiliation and five years of being less than a person… Had I even been like a human to them?

Creative Director. I did celebrate. Titan insisted. Roofus even made his version of hangover soup as a congratulations—something about me being a few paychecks away from leaving him in this dump and finally buying a smartphone. It was loud and messy and almost normal. And it might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m one step closer to Camryn. One step closer to tearing Wardrobe apart from the inside. Five years in prison. Five years of self-loathing, planning, replaying every mistake until it burned. Five years of building this day in my head, brick by brick.

I had failed her. "I understand, Mom. Don't worry. I'll take a few days to adjust. Once I finalize my divorce, I'll return to the company." She studied me carefully, as if trying to confirm the truth for herself. "This time… you really mean to divorce her?" I gave no reply, only a heavy, silent nod. Confusion clouded her features. She couldn't understand why, after five years of relentless persistence, I had suddenly let go. "Mom… Jake isn't my child."

"I'm starting a pool. How many hands will she pass through before she's kicked out of New York for good? Without the Moretti name protecting her, a woman like that isn't even fit to shine our shoes." "Five years is a long shelf life. She's expired." Their venom splattered against me like mud, but I kept scrolling, my face blank. Still, a heavy weight settled in my chest, a boulder making it hard to breathe. My heart seized in sharp, painful spasms. My nose burned. A hot pressure built behind my eyes. The five-year fantasy was over. Utterly shattered. I counted the days in my head. Six days left. Even without this woman, I was never going to spend one second longer in this golden cage.

The 32-year-old John stared at his phone, waiting for a response from me. Suddenly, he blacked out. When he opened his eyes again, he discovered that his home had changed drastically. The luxurious mansion he once owned had somehow become a tiny apartment of less than 200 square feet. He was stupefied. What had I done this time? Suddenly, he regretted ever having told me the truth. Infuriated, he made yet another video call to me, the one stuck five years in the past.

Alistair's world crumbled. His beta turned on him, submitting testimony to the council. Jade Moonshadow was convicted and screamed as the guards dragged her away. Alistair asked to speak to me. "Denied," the council said. I heard about it later from Gideon. "Are you okay?" he asked. "I'm fine." "You don't look fine." "I look exactly how I feel. Nothing." The fellowship ended six months later. I graduated at the top of my class.

From my window I looked out at a patch of empty ground. I sat in front of the dressing table, staring at the ring on my left hand. After all these years, the band had left a faint white mark at the base of my finger, like a small scar. I slid the ring off and pushed it to the back of the dresser drawer, where I kept the things I no longer used. I curved my mouth into a small, tired smile. It was never my place to begin with. Maybe it really was time to go. How many five-year stretches does a person get?