I Don't Want To Live Novels & Stories

I’m still bringing myself to live every day, to survive every single damn minute. I’ve been under my father’s fists and sister’s hateful words for more than a decade. Now that I am on my own...I will not yield, I will not give up. Because I don’t want to just survive every single fucking day. I want to live. Live and enjoy every heartbeat and breath I breathe. “I will live, not just survive,” I vowed to myself before I dipped my head below the surface, rinsing every bit of filth that clings to my skin.

"To kidnapped is not a fun sight Diego, especially at that age. Please just let me try..." "And kill yourself? you want to kill yourself?!!" "I worth it", I said. "And you feel like you don't have a worth , your life doesn't have a worth?". I shrugged sadly, "I don't anything to live for honestly so why not ", I said in a sad whisper.

I have to do something, anything, but I refuse to keep living like this. 💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨

Save yourself from all this pain? I don’t want to leave yet! You’re wrong! I don’t want to die, I don’t want to slit my wrist or blow my brains out. I just want someone who is always going to be there for me but how can I have that without even wanting myself? Not even you want me around!

Why? I hate the fact that I'm a human now more than ever. I wish I was not even born. What is all this? I can't have a normal life like any other person. I can't love the person my heart beats for, I can't have him by my side. Its for your safety, it's for your safety. Cut the crap. Come-on. Why should I be living a life of fear? My whole life has been dictated by people, the world and I don't get to have a say in it, I just have to live that way, why?

Gina’s voice is soft. “You know what I want to do right now?” I blink. “I want to pack everything up and leave this godforsaken town. I want to go somewhere far away. I want to go to all those places I’ve always wanted to go to. I just want to live life on my terms while I still can. Away from everyone who wants to use me and humiliate me and hurt me all the time.” The very thought of dying in this town where only one or two people will actually give a flying fuck makes me feel suffocated.

“Don’t you want me to be happy?” “I want you happy,” I grit out, “with pants on.” A notification chimes. Perfect timing. I grab my phone, desperate for distraction, thumbs flying as I type: Bro, we have a problem. I can’t keep living like this. I delete it. Start again. I think I should move out. Seriously. Delete. No. That’s worse. Because if I leave… someone else moves in. And the only option? Lockie. I freeze. Absolutely not.

But I shouldn't blame myself; I should search for a way of living forever as it's the greatest pleasure. I am conversant with illness; I have schzirpheena, as you believe. But despite it being an illness, I have a desire to live. An extreme passion to live. Live as though no one will. Life is dear to me, too, especially after knowing that after Earth, almost nothing exists, not even virtue, to be happy or adjusted. Just the end. Just the end drives me crazy.

I've always wanted to slow time down. I want to appreciate every second, minute, and hour of my life. I want to live a longer life. I'm not sure I believe what my doctor told us. I refuse to accept the fact that I only have a short time left to live. That is something I despise. But I still want to give my all. I want all the best. That's how valuable time is to me.

This was not the life he desired. “No, I must regain my strength. This is not the life I want. I don’t want to spend the rest of my days in a wheelchair.”