I'm Alive But Im Actually Dying Novels & Stories

I give them paradise. "At the cost of their existence," Axel said. His dagger was out now, flames flickering along the blade. "They're not living. They're being slowly erased while dreaming about lives they'll never have." *And isn't that better than what you face? Fighting your way to a Core that might not save you? Facing administrators who want you dead? At least here, you die happy.* The buildings around us started to move. The walls rippled like water. The peaceful deadies we'd seen earlier were appearing again but this time their eyes were wrong. Empty. Controlled.

And I worry that I’m not going to wake up from this. The world blurs. My energy drops. I’m exhausted, shaking, starving, parched. Every part of my body needs something it’s not getting. And I realize that maybe I’m dying. It’s a peaceful feeling in a way. If I die, I don’t have to face this tragedy. If I die, my daughter dies though. I know I need to get food, water, help. I need to contact a doctor. I need an ambulance. All my strength is gone though. I can’t get up off this ground. I can barely move. My eyes flutter.

Oh shit! I'm dead. So very dead.

I groan, closing my eyes as I try to savour it as much as possible. I'm dead. I'm so dead.

"He's my son, and he's not dead! He's just sulking, that's all!" He broke free of the grip and went back to gathering my body from the ground, pulling it into his arms. "Ronnie, get up right now! Didn't you want me to come? Well, I'm here now, so why are you still putting on this act?" However, I remained completely motionless. Ms. Ritter stood at the edge of the crowd, her face deathly pale and her lips trembling. "This is impossible. How could Ronnie really be dead? I didn't do anything. This has nothing to do with me."

It felt just like—death. Meanwhile, my family waited anxiously. Seeing the doctor return, they quickly donned their helmets without hesitation. Somewhere beyond my dying breaths, the machine's cold melody wrenched the last light of my mind back into memories.

He rubbed at his temple, wincing as the dull throb at the base of his skull returned—stronger this time. He hated that pain. It was the only thing lately that reminded him he was still alive. Nathan stood, moving toward the window. The city glittered below—bright, noisy, full of life he couldn’t feel. Neon lights painted his reflection across the glass: tousled hair, tired eyes, perfection sculpted by fame but filled by exhaustion. He tapped his cigarette against the railing, watching the ashes scatter like snow. “Another night,” he murmured, “another stranger.” His phone buzzed on the table. A message from his manager:

I plead and beg; I am not ready to die! But nobody hears me, and I start to fade away, as my life dissolves.

Not fully awake. But alive.

I need air! Impossibly, I hear echoes of grunting, almost like laughter, as I fall to my knees. My mind is playing tricks on me, but it's strangely comforting when I feel the warmth of my own tears streaming down my cheeks. At this moment, I am aware that I'm dying, yet I hopelessly continue gulping for relief in my lungs.