Imagine Dying Couldn't Be Me Novels & Stories

If I was going to die today, I wanted to tell my family that I loved them, irrespective of what they did to me. He kept going, in and out, his piercing hitting the same spot with heavy thumps, I could swear I had an injury there, a burning sensation filled me up, he was too big, I couldn’t adjust to him, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see properly, fear filled me up, I was going to die, I was going to die here, I can’t breathe. 𝙄 𝘾𝘼𝙉'𝙏 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘽𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀!!!

These questions flood into my mind like a broken dam with lots of water. “No! No, no, no!” I yell as I reel in denial. “I can’t be dead! Not like this.” My face scrunches up as tears threaten to spill. I have barely lived and now I’m dead, a ghost apparently, lost in a forest somewhere in the world.

As I see bubbles escape my lips. This is it.....I am going to die.

I should move or else I will die. Move Mia, just take one step at a time and move. I want to get the constant reminder that I am a failure, a nobody. A disaster. Now he is back, he will take me back, and make my life ten times worse. Death wouldn't be so bad right, it's okay to want peace right. The burn on my skin increases causing a sharp cry to leave my lips yet I can't bring myself to move. I should just die. My heart thumps loudly as liquid rolls down my cheeks, I slowly wipe my sweaty palms on my sides as my lips quiver when a sudden realization hits me.

I know the cause Of my every disease Is mental unease But I still won't complain I still won't complain Till fire extinguish My dreams To dirt, it will be All expectations from me With encouragement Only as a dream How long will I live How long will I blame One day At rest Will be my human frame For never to move For never to respond I was hurt Will it be realised that day That day at my end Will there be no noise Of hurt Will there be no one alive Worth the echo within For getting hurt It is no more new to me It is no more strange to me The search for money From floor to floor Makes me crazy Damn, it is this My dedications My indisputable Life's achievement After great efforts Pain, pain an

And never in my worst nightmares did I imagine that one day, I would be the one to… I can’t. I have to. A wail erupted into my chest, but I locked it in. My legs were giving up. A cold tremble rattled through my bones, weakening me to my very core. My head felt as if it would burst any second. I covered my mouth with my hands to stop myself from dying before I could save her. It was only something I could console myself with. But there was no saving her anymore. Both of us were going to die. If not in body, then in soul.

The even more frustrating part is that I don't know why Im like this. I groaned and buried my face in my hands then mumbled to myself "Maybe Im sick..." A thought hit me causing me to remove my hands from my face. I gasped out loud and said "OH SHIT! AM I DYING!?"

I whispered, her name like a prayer I didn't know I believed in. I looked at the cast again and felt my chest tighten until I couldn't breathe. "Just hurry up and wake up. You're not allowed to die before me." What would I even do if she did? I can't even picture it. A world without Anne... what kind of fucked-up joke would that be? Who would I talk to? Who would I live for? If she dies, I'd jump off the roof of this hospital without blinking. But I can't do anything right now. I can only sit here and rot.

“You rejected me. You separated from me…from your true self. You denounced me. You said I am powerless. You cast me out!” The truth struck him. His doubt had doomed him. “I didn’t mean to,” Denny whispered. “I’m sorry…I need you back. I will die without you.” “What’s broken cannot be undone. Where death lingers, death must happen. You die, you stay dead. But there is still a choice.” “What choice?” “Die or let him die.” As the words echoed, an image appeared: Jay bound against Denny’s slumped body…and the Unions surrounded them.

I'm going to die. The coyote, Dallas, even Kellan stomping me all cones rushing back in random fragments. Like a collage of my suffering and I try to sob. I feel nauseous as I curse my mind for the images it brings to life. Kellan with an age, chopping my leg. Or a chainsaw. The pocket knife. I'm my mind I picture him hacking the meat and bone, and I shiver all over. He could've killed me. Why didn't he just kill me?