I'm Alive But Im Actually Dying Novels & Stories

I wave my hand between us, “because it’s a death sentence. With this mystery man and his little helper, I’m finally on death row. It feels like I’m living in a concrete cell with no windows, slowly suffocating. It’s not a way out, it’s just a different way to the same ending.” “A, still walking around-communicating and seeing your friends, ending. I’m not death. I might not have a beating heart, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. Just because I can’t see the sun doesn’t mean happiness doesn’t fill my day. I’m alive with you. What I am, what you will be one day, is just a different way of living, but it isn’t not living.”

The stark realization of my mortality gripped me, a chilling specter looming over me in the haze-filled office. "I can't die like this. I can't....no...I can't die." I muttered to myself, the words a feeble protest against the threat to my life. Frantic thoughts raced through my mind, a jumble of fear and uncertainty clouding my senses as I grappled with the cruel inevitability of my fate. "What can I do? What?" I implored myself, my voice tinged with a blend of anguish and resignation. Despite my frantic search for a solution, my body betrayed me, each breath growing more strained and ragged as the smoke tightened its grip on my chest.

I stood there for hours, praying to die. Until my neighbor, Mr. Collins, came in the morning to look for Jack. I don't remember exactly what happened. I remember waking up the next day in the hospital. I hated the fact that I was still alive and Jack didn't. I wanted to die more than anything. They had killed my whole life. One shot changed everything. One night changed my life completely. It took more than 6 months before I was able to shake off the incident. I had nightmares every night.

“Elora! I can’t believe this—” “How are you alive?” I blurt out, and immediately, hysteria starts to climb up my throat. “How are you alive? What’s happening? Why am I here?” Fake. This has to be all fake. I refuse to believe that this is not a hallucination that my brain is coming up with to maybe give me a good feeling before I truly pass away. This is too surreal.

My entire existence feels like a breath in winter. I swallow, breathing in air that feels thinner with each passing second. My surroundings flicker at the edges, like the world is struggling to hold me in focus. The system said my real body was being terminated. I chose this world. I chose him. And now I understand. I am here, but not fully. Alive, but not anchored. Present, but fading. A strange fear slithers into my thoughts. If I fade completely, will Dream forget me again? Will this be another life where I vanish before he can reach me? I hate the idea of him searching for someone who no longer exists.

My mouth suddenly voices my thoughts and the man looks at me with a shocked expression. “Excuse me?” “I’m dead, aren’t I?” I ask and swallow dryly. “No dear, you are not dead. The Alpha rescued you and brought you here before that could happen. You were in a very critical state when he brought you here” “So, you’re saying, I’m not in the land of the dead?” “No, you are not.” “I’m still in this cruel world.” I whisper to myself in pain as tears start streaming down my cheeks. I wanted to die and go away from all this pain and humiliation. I hate the fact that I’m still alive.

Time moves strangely in this room, pooling in corners like water, refusing to flow properly. “Mom, please,” her voice cracks through the wood. Young. So young. My daughter is sixteen, and she sounds like a child begging for comfort I cannot give. “Mom, just say something. Anything. I need to know you are alive in there.” I am alive. Technically. My heart beats. My lungs draw air. Blood moves through veins, sustaining biological processes that seem increasingly pointless. But alive? No. I think I died in the Black Realm, kneeling in ash-grey dirt with my son’s absence crushing my chest. Everything since then has been aftershocks. The corpse of whom I used to be, twitching with leftover electr

After everything I did for them, they’re going to kill me. I fell on the ground, sharp rocks piercing my skin. The next thing I knew was that I was staring at the open sky, droplets of rain falling on my face. I don’t remember what happened, I don’t remember their faces. My eyes just felt heavy, and my body grew tired. If I die now, at least I won’t suffer any more. At least I won’t be in pain, and I won’t be alone anymore. “You can’t die,” the voice whispered. It was warm, serene, and gentle. It was coming from inside of my head. “I will keep you alive. I will keep you alive.”

Her expressions were neutral, with no sign of pain or regret at this point. She couldn’t endure this pain now and felt like it was better to end it forever. There seemed to be no reason to live on for. No person to be happy for. No one wanted her or would be sad if she died.

I wonder fоr a second іf I’m оvеrdоѕіng. Iѕ thіѕ hоw I’m gоіng tо dіе? Choking on thе еdgе оf thе road, my death unrероrtеd bесаuѕе I’m just a hooker, a nobody whо dоеѕn’t matters?