Life Is Just A Fantasy Novels & Stories

It was a question that required him to dismantle his carefully constructed reality, and I knew it was agonizing for him. “I try not to,” he finally admitted, his voice rough. “Because it is a fantasy. A luxury we cannot afford. I live in the world of the absolute, Killian, and the absolute reality is that our lives are defined by external obligations.” “But if it were possible,” I pressed gently, sitting up so I could look at his face, framed by the white pillowcase. “Just tell me what you see. Would we live here?” He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes distant, imagining the impossible future.

“And you wanted me to notice.” “Yes.” He hooked his fingers into her thong and dragged it down her thighs, letting it pool at her ankles. Cool air hit her soaked pussy. He groaned softly. “Look at you. Dripping down your legs already.” One thick finger traced her seam, gathering wetness, then pushed inside without warning. She moaned, pushing back. He added a second finger, pumping slow and deep, curling to hit that spot that made her knees buckle. “You’ve been fantasizing about this, haven’t you?” he said against her ear, leaning over her. “About me bending you over my desk and fucking you raw while the campus walks by outside.”

"How could this be? How did you suffer like that? Mila said she'd been to the wasteland. She said a pretty she-wolf like you wouldn't have any trouble there! "She said you'd just be reflecting on yourself there. How did this happen?" Leon asked in disbelief. I snorted coldly. "Mila said this, Mila said that. Don't you have a brain of your own? The wasteland is full of Rogues, and you thought it was safe? That's ridiculous!

That's why she didn't wanted anyone to be a part of her life ever again. She was afraid that they would eventually leave her alone too... That's what scared her the most...Being left alone...Being left behind... Staring at the wall, her tears stopped flowing, but she still kept looking at the wall with blurry eyes. She had realized today, why she was not able to write about life. Why it was so hard to write the words down about life on a paper...It was because she had not been living but surviving...She thought that Life was an Illusion but that was not true. Everything was real but when you go into survival mode, all seems like an illusion.

The house was silent except for the ticking of the old clock near the dresser. Somewhere beyond the silence, I could almost hear the echo of the crowd from earlier. The music, the applause, the fake smiles. A hundred eyes watching, judging, cheering. I closed mine, and it all melted away. For a fleeting moment, I imagined a different world. No mansions. No clubs. No debts. No Xander. Just sunlight, Ariana’s laughter, and Kyle’s kind eyes. A girl life that wasn’t built on someone else’s control. But the fantasy faded as fast as it came.

I stood in the middle of the park in my light dress. I was exhausted. Not from any physical work, not from having fought a battle, not from work, not even from the stress of having to train two twin playful kids, but from having to think every moment of my life. Think of James, think of Justin, and think of how to shuffle my entire life around all these occurrences. In my deep subconscious mind, I wanted to just exist, to float out of reality, into a world only I and I alone could comprehend and understand. To be fair, she didn’t think I wanted to understand it at all. I didn’t need to. As far as it got me away from this toxic life I was living. But running away was out of the option. I had

The only option Life is a very big game. And mine is much more than that. It is not just any game. No, of course not. My life is a very big drama game. A drama I really wish wouldn't come near would always stay in two metre radius from me. So, my life is a very big drama game. And it was endless misery to me. I just couldn't put a full stop to it. Like how difficult will it get. It's always a drama. It seems to have been around me since I was born.

The only difference is that I'm not with the family I grew up with. But to think of it, I'm just like in a dormitory school. What happens now in my life is like what I used to read in a fantasy book. A fantasy that I thought would never exist. But here I am, portraying my very own character. "Hey, Shayana. You lost it again. What were you thinking?" "Uhhh, nothing. I just miss this kind of stuff. I used to be here with—." Shit. Here I go again with my tackless tongue.

"One word could have a thousand meanings, and if you really care about the words, the meanings will be declared to you. But you can take this, for now: You can forget about your problems today, you can clear your head today, feel alive and great, but tomorrow will come, your problems will still be there, waiting for you…" "But?" "But, faith in the son of man maketh life easier than fantasy and fiction. Do you believe that life it's just a cycle of fortunate and unfortunate occurrences repeating itself? Because I…" he stood up with a glass of whiskey in his hand, and his eyes away from the interior to the exterior of the glass house. "Believe that life can be easy, with no struggles, less or

" – Something happened to me that I could not have foreseen. I hit my head hard against the wall. That headbutt against the wall changed my whole life. I was not aware of anything at that moment. It's like I disappeared for a moment and was reborn again. I was born a second time. What do I understand? I realized that I had become an atheist. After all, I have not found heaven and hell. I found only utter darkness. I realized that our faith is a fiction. All hopes of eternal life without regret are in the past. I grew up and didn't want to go back to the fantasy world. Is it better to live in illusions or face the truth? I chose the real world, despite its cruelty, but this world is a real re