Futile Struggles Novels & Stories

Just one fish. "Come on," she pleaded, frustration building with each failed attempt. "Just one fish. That's all I need." Her legs trembled, threatening to give out. Hunger and exhaustion gnawed at her resolve, each missed strike draining what little energy remained. ‘Pathetic. You're pathetic.’ "I can't fail," Cathy thought, blinking back tears of frustration. "I have to get back to him. I have to..." But her body had reached its limit. With a strangled cry, she collapsed at the water's edge, the useless spear slipping from her grasp. ‘Failure. Just like always.’

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

“The harder you struggle, the tighter the bite.’’ I had not realized what he was talking about until I looked at my wrist and realized the pain. his hand grip my left ankle with one movement. and the chains that are not even taking long. with just a slap on my ankle it had encircled itself around my leg and pulled me to a straight position. He repeated the same process with my left leg. I tried. I tried to fight him. to curse at him. to even beg him. “As for this one, every time you try to struggle, this chain in the middle only extends wider. at the end of it all if you try to fight it, your legs would be spread for my eyes.’’

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.