Futile Struggles Novels & Stories

"I'll be ready for you. No matter how soon you come, I'll be waiting, and I'll fight with everything I have. You won't destroy us. Not if I have anything to say about it." Doubt clawed at the edges of my determination, threatening to consume me entirely. The fear that all my efforts might be in vain gnawed at my soul. What if, despite my best intentions and most meticulous plans, I was merely a pawn in a game I couldn't comprehend? What if fate was an unchangeable force, rendering my struggles futile?

It was a given that he didn't exactly fall, but it was enough for him to wave a hand, willing me to let go. "That's it. You watched me." "Coincidence." I explained and pulled myself into another stance, gaining the determination to learn what he was teaching me. Nothing would ever go well if I stopped after one good defence. "Again." But with a few more successful tries, there came even more unsuccessful ones, resulting in various bruises that I knew would hurt tomorrow.

And outside, the world moved on, but inside the villa, a new dawn had begun—a dawn of love, of family, and of a future that was theirs to shape. The storm was over. The battles had ended. And finally, Ruthless Claim had reached its conclusion, leaving nothing but hope, love, and the quiet promise of every tomorrow.

Each dodge came closer to failure. I couldn’t win with pure human strength. I needed more. Carefully. Precisely. Just a trickle.

There were two famous deadweights in Kingsgate's high society. One was me, Millie Tanner, the pampered little princess whose only talents were shopping and throwing parties. The other was my childhood friend, Iver Langford, the fragile young heir born with autism and congenital heart failure. However, my older brother was the most feared name in the underworld, and my second brother was the richest man in the country. Iver's older sister was the undefeated queen of the courtroom, and his second sister was a surgeon whose hands could bring back the dead. One day, the four of them were chatting over a game of poker. "Raising one hopeless case takes the same effort as two. Might as well pair

The stranger paid no attention and continued sparring with her other captor. He chopped Patrick's throat, making him hunch over and grip his neck before the stranger brought down his elbow again, cutting into the back of Patrick's neck once more. This time, he fell to the ground in a heap. The stranger spun, kicking Anthony square in the chest and knocking him to the ground. Neither of them moved a muscle. Doriane crawled to the curb, pulling herself into a small pile of snow while trying to get away. Her clothes and shoes offered little protection to the bitter cold, but she had bigger problems lying ahead of her.

The phone crashed and shattered on the far wall as I couldn't take the pressure any more and threw it with great frustration. I clutched my head, trying to leash my mind back to its place. The distressed scream that escaped my lips took away the last ray of energy out of my body as I collapsed on the floor and gave up all my courage through my tears. It's just so wrong. Every time I try to rise up and fight back my cruel fate comes back at me with a harder blow, pushing me down on the floor, forcing me to give up, forcing me to submit and every time I do give up because you reach a certain point where you can't take any more. I am tired of defeat and submitting to the failures in my life.

All he thought about was the loss of the people he loved. Thankfully he had a best friend who didn’t let him down. John visited him every single day, he brought him food and tried to put him together many times but he failed. “I’m a loser.” He said to John as he placed the food tray on the nightstand. “Yes, you are. Stop doing this to yourself, you stupid punk. Your mom will never come back to life.” He shouted. “You should wake up from this nightmare and fight to win back the people who are still alive.”

Just when I thought luck was finally on my side in life. I knew I was going to he running for a long time. This was one of those cases of you can run but you can't hide and I knew for sure that I was not going to stop running for anything. At least for as long as my feet could take me and not wear out, or that he gave up and turned around. * Greg

Once it is torn from your hands and thrown onto the ground where it shatters like a cup, you have nothing to keep fighting for. Life is a constant struggle and those who refuse to fight have barely a chance to survive. Helen used to fight a lot. For and against things. In childhood, against the feeling of not belonging anywhere: a fight every child is facing. Helen, though, hadn’t even felt like she’d ever belonged to her family. From early on, they’d been treating her like a mistake, only reluctantly accepted.