Life Saver Story Book Novels & Stories

"They probably think he has a slim chance of surviving. When he was rushed to the hospital, he had been unconscious and was not breathing at all. He only started breathing weakly after they tried to revive him in the emergency room... Uncle Eric is in terrible shape, and I'm really worried that he might not make it." "No, he is definitely going to survive. I heard that he was in an accident before, but he managed to recover, didn't he? Uncle Eric has a strong will, or he wouldn't have woken up in the first place. I read from a book once that people who succeed in life are people with a strong will." "Indeed. Only people who can survive a crisis would survive." Meanwhile, in the VIP ward, Lay

Yeah, we’d made eye contact a few times, but that was about it. Oh, and the time he fed me — but that was one time. That didn’t make us close. “Oh… that just seems so unlike him,” she said. “What does that mean?” I asked, shifting slightly because my back still ached like crazy. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “It’s just that… he defied the Alpha to save you. He’s never done that before. Not even for his—” “Nadia.” Vivian cut her off sharply. “Go call the healer and let her know she’s awake.”

I said. In my past life, I'd witnessed too many occasions of humans turning out to be more savage than zombies when they wanted to eat. They would do everything they could to get a mouthful of food. After the zombie outbreak, morals and laws meant nothing. Survivors would do anything to stay alive. The bad memories made me tremble uncontrollably, but a warm hand on my cheek pulled me back to my senses. Mom said gently, "Things must've been hard for you, sweetheart."

“Sit.” Mia sat beside her, shyly looking down. “You’re too kind, madam. You talk to us like we’re friends. Other rich people don’t do that.” Savannah smiled sadly. “I’m not rich, Mia. I just found myself in a comfortable place. Before now, life wasn’t easy for me.” The girl turned to her. “Really? You don’t look like someone who suffered.” Savannah looked at the garden quietly. “I’ve seen things, Mia. There were times I didn’t have food, times I slept hungry, and times I thought life was over. But God always made a way.”

"That is more than most people get." Elara thinks about that. About how many people are drowning and no one throws them a rope. About how easy it is to destroy someone and how hard it is to save them. She thinks about Rachel, who drowned while Lucas watched. About Sienna, who was killed when she tried to save herself. About how she survived because Kieran believed her and helped her. Maybe that is the lesson. That survival requires help. That no one can do it alone. Natasha got help. And she lived.

I crossed to the tall window overlooking the gardens and stood there for a long moment, with my hands resting on the edge of the mahogany desk, watching the stillness of the manicured lawn below. Darian's story had always been too clean. She was kidnapped, hidden away, then suddenly recovered and returned as though the whole ordeal had been nothing more than a movie. Men like Darian didn't rely on miracles, they manufactured outcomes, and they manufactured them well and I knew that well enough to be sure. I reached for my phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in years. It rang twice. "Hello." "Vivian," I said, settling back in my chair.

I insisted. Silence fell between us. He looked back at the book. Then at me. Then back at the book again. “You’ve been reading it?” he asked. “Yes.” “How far?” “I don’t know… halfway, I think.” “And what is it about?” he asked. “It’s about a boy,” I said slowly. He didn’t interrupt. “They threw him into a well,” I continued. “Left him there to die.” Drake’s grip on the book tightened slightly. “He didn’t die,” I added.

I survived because I found strength in the small things - my grandmother’s quiet hugs, my siblings’ laughter, the way the moonlight filtered through the trees and reminded me that Selene was still watching. I survived because even when I wanted to give up, there was a voice inside me that whispered: Not yet. Not like this. You are more than what he did to you. I am not what he did to me. I am not the silence he forced me to keep. I am not his crime. I am still here, scarred but not broken.

"Learning to cherish what matters, and learning how to forgive." That gala—the one where the floating comments first warned me—had become the turning point of my life. Maybe fate had been waiting all along for me to begin the journey that was always meant to be mine. … "Perfect ending. I'd rewatch this story ten times. Somebody recommend similar ones."

I draped her pancakes with honey and dropped it on the table right in front of her, serving it with a glass of milk, after which I went back to the kitchen and had mine with a cup of hot chocolate. No one was at the hospital when I got there, and luckily for me, I brought a book along, so I sat right beside the bed and started reading the book. The book was “ My Father's Wish” by Bellaboy, a touching story of how a young man, Hunter, was set up by his late father's will to marry his middle school bully, Hazel, just so that he; Hunter, could claim his inheritance.