I Don't Want To Live Novels & Stories

I weeped bitterly. Maybe I just don't deserve to live a life brewing of ecstasy. Where is life trying to push me to? Where are people in this life trying to end my life? I am tired God! I am fed up, of life!

, I guess. “Please, let me go. I have nothing that you want to have. Please,” I request. But I think that request will be nothing but an empty words to them for these people don’t know any other thing than fighting and killing. So, am I going to breath my last breath over here? I don’t want to. I have so much to do. Just today, I had something important to do in my life and I cannot die right over here. I cannot. I just cannot.

I whimpered at the tone of his voice. “ I am tired of running, I am tired of living in fear and I don’t want that for Daisy, Aiden, and the other kids in the pack. I don’t want to live in constant fear, thinking of when the council lord and the clan or Jerold black will attack us.“No more running. That is not the life I want for Daisy, you, and myself .” “ But ….” “ I love you and Daisy. But I can’t love you and be happy in fear.

I don’t want to owe anyone anything. Especially not someone from that life. From the version of me I tried to kill just to survive. But I stay. And that—that is the worst part. I just hope Dante doesn’t go out to see me like this.

I don't deserve to live! Enough! I try not to breathe oxygen, so the air is stuck inside, my breath runs out. Yes, this is all I need right now. I don't want to, anything else at this point. No one wants me alive. I hold my breath as much as I can. I want to take my life now.

I can't live like this, living in a world full of lies. I don't want to live with my soul like this. I need to leave... to get far away.

, he growled at me but I just flung his hand away. “Why do I want to die? I am not happy! I feel like I am living for everyone else except myself! I cannot even think about my life without becoming guilty. What is the essence of living? What should I live for when I am this broken?” I cried out, my suppressed tears taking the best of me.

I was broken and this was the proof that I was never going to be fixed. I reminded myself that I had already gone through so much and wanted to accept my reality. I want to fight for my life. I really want to. But I don't know what I'm going to do. I want to live. I do. But I know, I'm counting my days or months or even years, I don't know how many days I will live, but I want to make it to the fullest and never leave any regrets.

I could feel her attention like a cold finger on the back of my neck. "I don't want a quiet life," I said. "I've had a quiet life. It was small and gray and nobody noticed when I left the room. I hated it." "Then what do you want?" The question was simple. It shouldn't have been hard to answer. But I didn't have an answer. I'd spent so long surviving—paying rent, buying meds, keeping my head down—that I'd forgotten how to want. Wanting was dangerous. Wanting meant disappointment. Wanting meant losing things you never really had.

I don’t want to be here; I don’t know if I want to live. ↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝↝ GET UP! My body jolts on the hard floor. I struggle to open my eyes. I see nothing but darkness, but I have no idea what day it is. My body hurts, but not as much as my heart. I don’t want to move. I know this is pathetic, but I can’t help it. I’ve never felt pain like this before, and I think I’m going to die. Maybe I would be better off gone.