Just Survive Somehow Novels & Stories

Pushing me forcing me to walk. “Can you just walk slower? It is kind of hard for me to keep up with your pace. I am a useless human, after all.” I say with sarcasm, while rolling my eyes. The only way for me to survive is to keep calm. No more screaming, no more resistance. Just following everything they tell me to do. Otherwise, I might end up in a ditch. Dead.

Fiona's POV The strange thing about living is that sometimes you are so sure you are dead, something big happens, and momentarily you expect to vanish along as pain crumbles you, but strangely, you survive, strangely the breath in your lungs remains, and you make it out alive with only one thing in mind; Rage.

I smiled without any humor at all and lifted my gaze back to him. “Yes, I am selfish. And I am so sorry for being like that. But I would also like to tell you this, just in case you forgot. Maybe you still haven’t realized it, but we don’t have any options left. Humanity doesn’t exist in times like this, Justine. You kill to survive. And it’s either you kill, or you get killed.”

They rained their fists again and again into the wretched duo. I turned my phone on and called a rescue squad member. Then, I led my other colleagues on a two-day survival mission. Queenie and Shawn didn't die, but it was a near thing. We tied them up and set them aside, keeping them alive on the barest minimum of food. I was going to deal with them after we got back to civilization. I was the one running the company behind the scenes, but everyone thought he owned the business. His company could never have gotten off the ground if it weren't for me.

"I'm okay! I'm alive!" I finally exhaled. Then I looked down at my right leg. Perfectly fine. I took a few careful steps. Both feet held steady. In my last life, Tristan panicked mid-jump and clung to me. His full weight crushed me, leaving me no chance to roll. My right leg took the impact for both of us. It shattered on contact, blood soaking the grass beneath me. Tristan landed on top of me without a scratch. I writhed on the ground in pain while he just stood there, pale and frozen.

A future that did not feel like something I had to survive. Now I do not dream. I calculate. How to avoid punishment. How to stay invisible. How to harden the fragile parts of me before someone else does it for me. Sometimes I think this is all my life will ever be. Not dramatic. Not extraordinary. Just endurance. Just waking up before dawn to metal scraping against iron. Just breathing through humiliation. Just surviving long enough to see another day begin. I no longer cry about what I lost. I no longer question why I was different.

It felt like forever. And moving on? The thought made me sick. Because how do you move on from the only person who ever made you feel alive? You don’t. You just survive. One miserable day at a time. Hoping somehow, some way, she’ll come back.

For me, it's approximately a fifteen minute walk home. Unfortunately, my car isn't working right now. Otherwise, I'd be driving and it would only take five minutes to get home, if that. But, luckily it isn't a far walk. The only mechanic in town is backed up for a few months. So, because I don't want to put money out for a new car or a rental, this is waht I've resorted to. About five minutes into my walk, a chill ran up my spine. I felt as if I was being watched. Katy's voice echoed in my head about the three women who were murdered. They weren't just murdered, though. They were brutually raped and beaten to death.

he exclaimed and left. I didn’t have any choice, but stay alive. Yes, I had to be alive for that man’s packaging. Is he an angel, who showed me, that I had to live or maybe it’s a coincidence. But there’s no coincidence in the world where fate has already been written for each person. I didn’t want to go back to the hospital. I didn’t want to see these faces full of sorrow and misery. And there’s probably still no news about Lincoln. He is still in coma.

I could see it in his eyes. "It’s okay, Richard. That’s in the past." I smiled a little wider—to let him know I had let it go. "How are you so strong?" he asked. That question struck me. I didn’t know how to answer it. Maybe I had suffered too many hard things… Maybe I had no other choice but to survive. Sometimes, life gives us no options. You don’t choose to endure—you just do, because there’s nothing else. "I don’t know. I just… survive because I have to. I survive for myself. If no one wants us… if everyone ignores us… then we have to embrace ourselves."