Is Fiction Real Or Not Novels & Stories

>>The world is much bigger and more beautiful than this, Oli. Some of my stories are fiction; they don't exist, but others, like today's, are real, and I was hoping you could pay close attention in case I can't escape with you. I need you to remember these indications.

Logan asked. Ellis shook her head. “We have fictional videos, too. We call them movies. They tell stories to amuse and entertain, not to inform. Like novels… but on film.” “How confusing! How do people know which is true and which is not?” Leo asked. “We called the real one's documentary. The movies were more popular, though.” “That’s a thing about our culture. Humans prefer fantasy to truth.” Ellis looked down at Mitch’s image on the screen. “Some people here seem to prefer it, too.”

During these nineteen years of my life, I have never come across a novel or movie where they show the reality. It's such a great irony that whatever they show never happens in real life. Or perhaps they do, oblivious to the many people all across the world to whom it's just a piece of fiction. We will never ever know. We have these wild imaginations like the avatar, hunger games, twilight saga, fast and furious, and others. I am not ashamed to say that some of the above-mentioned movies are indeed my favorite.

I found myself sitting up straighter, suddenly interested. “Take Jekyll and Hyde, for example. Or the selkies in Celtic mythology—seals that could shed their skins to become human. Werewolf legends. Vampire folklore.” His eyes swept across the room. “Stories of beings that walk among us, hiding their true nature behind familiar faces.” “But those are just stories,” said Marcus Webb from the back row. “Made-up stuff to scare people.” “Are they? Consider this: what if these stories persisted throughout history not because they’re fiction, but because they contain elements of truth? What if the line between fantasy and reality isn’t as clear as we assume?”

“Of course not. It’s just a house . . . my house, as you said.” “I can’t believe it. You’re Mr. Horror, and you don’t believe in ghosts? How is that even possible?” “Okay, Bias, I’m going to blow your mind with one hell of a revelation about writers and their stories. I’m pretty sure Lewis Carroll never fell down a rabbit hole into a magical Wonderland; it doesn’t seem likely that Anne Rice believes in vampires; and I highly doubt J.K. Rowling has met any real wizards. That’s what makes it fiction and not nonfiction.”

"Yeah... I guess I have been keeping us kind of busy with this entire show we've been putting on, huh?" Humming once more, he agrees. "There hasn't been much time for real life, when the fake one is so consuming." She frowns, green eyes drowning with worry as she realizes, "the lines are beginning to blur." He raises a brow. "What lines?" He asks. "The lines between fiction and reality," Liviana stresses her explanation. "They're blurring! One's consuming the other and before we know it, we won't be able to tell where the lies end and the truth begins-"

“Wow.” “What?” “It's just,” I shook my head, “surreal. I have read and watched all of your existence, but they are very very certain to let us know that you guys are all fake and just fiction,” I wheezed. “Please, fiction,” she rolled her eyes. “Like humans could ever think of something so great. Seriously, most of the ideas come from higher demons that you know, either made a deal with a human and sold out or one that is probably in the industry.”

She blinks, “Are you calling me insane?” “Yes, Alicia. Werewolves do not exist. I know life is hard and it’s often difficult to different between fiction and reality, but wake up, babe. Werewolves aren’t real. You might want to see a Shrink. Those are real.” I scoff, and grin wide.

For the first time since stepping onto this campus, I felt in control again. And then, "Sir" Came his voice.. "Yes, Mr leister." I answered, sounding professional, wondering what he possibly what to say. "By your explanation, does it mean that werewolf stories are a perfect example of fiction," Noah’s voice cut through the room. "They’re thrilling, full of fantasy elements, but obviously, they aren’t real." My grip tightened around the edge of the desk. Slowly, I turned my head toward him. He sat there, completely unaware of the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Completely unaware of how wrong he was.

But in the same article, it was also written that all these creatures are fictional and there was no evident proof to suggest that they exist in reality. The line between reality and fiction has been thinned out. The concepts of reality no longer seemed solid, and the talks of fiction no longer sounded imaginative. Reality and fiction were blending together. And I didn't know what belonged where. Next day, for the first class of self-defense, we were all gathered in the gymnasium. The instructor relayed to us that getting onto the defense tricks, we needed to work on our punches and kicks. I was assigned a punching bag to practice on. The damn thing was as hard as concrete. I punched it and