Novelas y relatos de I'm Alive But Im Actually Dying

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.

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.

I whispered before stabbing myself in the chest. The trembling in my body intensified into violent spasm as I collapsed to my death. This time, I didn’t even feel the darkness. My body jerked back alive even faster than the other times, refusing to stay dead! “No! No! Please let me die! Let me stay dead!” I cried, turning to the darker version of me. “Why can’t I stay dead? I just need to stay dead… I can’t bear this pain anymore… this sin— I can’t carry it anymore… I am tired…”

I hate to admit it, but he's already turned into someone I want to live for. I wake up to the soft song of the birds chirping in the breeze. My eyes slowly adjust to the blinding light coming through the window, my breathing deep and relaxed. Consciousness returns to me, and with it, the memory. Last night I almost died. Maybe I'm really dead now, and I don't realize it. Is this heaven?

At least I wouldn't have to watch Killian marry Evelyn, wouldn't have to see my family's guilt, wouldn't have to become whoever I was turning into in this gilded cage. I got in my car and sat there, the medications on the passenger seat beside me, and realized something with crystal clarity: I was dying. Maybe not today, maybe not this month. But slowly, quietly, inevitably—I was dying. And I was the only one who knew.

I'd never let it dominate me, like he let it dominate him. His phone rings and he steps outside to answer it. I take the opportunity to try to free myself a little bit more, but I'm weaker now, and I'm incredibly sore. I still had painkillers in my system, which is why I was fine. Now, I'm surprised I could even stand upright. I'm sweating profusely, yet I'm cold at the same time. Is this what dying feels like?

I get to my room and crash onto my bed. I don't know if I'm ever going to survive this. It feels like I'm dying. Like I'm being ripped apart. I made a huge fucking mistake and now I'm paying for it. I can't breath. I'm drowning in pain. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Doing the same damn thing I made her do not even six months ago. Breathe. Focus. Control. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. The madness rises—slow, slithering, like smoke curling up my spine. It whispers lies in my ear. Tells me she’s gone. Tells me this time, it’s real. That I’ve already lost her. But I grip onto that sound like a lifeline. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. She’s not gone. She’s breathing. She’s alive. Not well… but alive.