Jalan Tak Berujung Novels & Stories

Nothing can stop them. The End.

“Joey, I never liked Charles. I’ve always liked you. If you hadn’t abandoned me at the airport that day, I would have married you. “I know you have feelings for me. Now that the Johansons are ruined, no one will take me in. I’m left with nothing but you…”

[JANE] The road I'm driving seems endless. I have lots of options to end my life, so I can be with Khali. I could simply drive over the speed limit and just let myself get into an accident, but it doesn’t guarantee that I will die; I could simply jump off the bridge and drown in the deep ocean, or I could slit my own throat with a sharp blade, or I could poison myself.

Each trip into the unknown was a new chapter waiting to be written, and he was eager to see what awaited them. With the magic of the waterfall still fresh in their minds, the friends made their way home, their hearts full of dreams and possibilities. Whatever lay ahead, Jace knew they would face it together, weaving their stories into the tapestry of their friendship, each adventure a vibrant thread connecting them in the grand narrative of their lives.

One day, Caspian said he wanted tiramisu from an old bakery in the northern part of the city. It was something I used to love two years ago. Eventually, I drove out alone. Halfway along a remote coastal road, the car suddenly broke down. I got out to check. I was still trying to figure out the problem when a handkerchief with a sharp smell was pressed over my mouth and nose. Right before I lost consciousness, I thought of how painfully cliché it was.

They sat in silence for the rest of the ride, save for Hans who tried to cheer them up by pointing out all the landmarks of Seoul that they passed by. Suzanne stared blankly out the window, the snow was knee-deep by now and there was no sign of the snow letting up. They drove past a bearded man with a beanie holding up a cardboard, it read; THE END IS NIGH! REPENT! It was a depressing scene, Hans kept quiet after that.

The forest continued its quiet motion around them. The traveler did not realize how long they had been there until the light began to shift toward evening. They closed the journal slowly. Something about it felt unfinished. Not incomplete. Open. As if waiting for continuation. They looked at the blank pages near the back. Many remained. Empty. The traveler ran a hand across them. A strange thought came. Not spoken. Not fully formed. This is not the end of the story. They stood. Held the journal for a moment. Then tucked it under their arm.

This isn’t the first time I’ve just simply laid down to die when an explosion hits near me, the thing is it’s happened to me so many times I just thought it’d end up that way. Lurti knows I get his point so he doesn’t say anything else; instead he unties the blue strap tied to his wrist and smells it. It’s a memento from Aquilia his lady back home in Capua. “They’re saying the war is over, I’m finally going to see her again.” He says. I suddenly burst in laughter at those words, which is a stupid act since it turns out my chest has suffered some bruising from the explosion. But the annoyed look on Lurti’s face is completely worth it. “Lurti, they’ve been saying that before Uncle Servo was fi

Waiting for something to end. Or begin.