Long Story Short I Survived Novels & Stories

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.

After three days I felt I was beginning to go mad. I wasn't sure if it had anything to do with the fact that I was kept in almost complete darkness or if it was due to me worrying about my pack and their safety. I knew Elstan wouldn't really hurt anyone, or at least I hoped not. Between that and the lack of food and sleep I was longing to be out of this cell. I decided the best thing I could do for my own survival and for the survival of my friends and my pack would be to give in to Elstan.

Evan, Maya, and James watched with open pride. At the podium, I glanced at my notes, crumpled them, and tossed them aside. “Twenty-five years ago, right here, I was destroyed,” I said. “Millions watched me beg a man to believe I carried his child. They watched him offer money so I would disappear. I lost my job, my home, everything I had. I became homeless, pregnant, and alone.” Silence dropped over the room. “But I survived. I built this foundation from that pain. I knew what it felt like to have no one. So I made sure no other woman would face it alone.”

Mia I was alive, and it was a miracle. Because I had completely given up the ghost, and had woken up, right when I was taken to the morgue. I had survived death twice. After six painful months of getting treated in Indian, I was put on a wheelchair. And the doctor said it could take a year or two, before I could start walking again. Because Tunde Ibrahim had completely broken my legs

She shoved it under her, then winced. "Oh... my stomach. Landon, it hurts. Go check if anyone's nearby. If we wait two hours, the baby and I will freeze..." Same exact lines. Last time, I bought it—pregnant, freezing, in pain. Didn't think twice. I got out. A hundred yards later, I slipped on the ice and went off the cliff. So this time, I didn't move. "I'm not going. If anyone's going, Felix should. He's young. I haven't eaten or had water all day. I'm freezing. I can't walk."

And now I am here. I survived the village. I survived the brothel. I survived the streets. I survived the academy. I survived the auction. I survived the kings. I fucking survived. Or did I?

“I Was the Girl Who Survived” By Sienna Carter “I was fifteen when I walked into a courtroom to testify against the man who raised me. I was terrified, not just of him but of the world’s judgment. That fear never truly leaves. But I have learned this: there is no shame in surviving. There is only power in reclaiming your voice.” The article went viral within hours. Comment sections were flooded with messages of support. Women around the world began sharing their own stories. Hashtags trended. News anchors wept on live television.

¶Aiyla PoV¶ ¶But One Of The Big Lessons I have Learned From My Journey Is You Can't Please Everyone, So Don't Try¶ - CHRIs COLfER 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Sometimes in life painful things can teach us lessons that we didn't think we needed to know. same thing happened to me, the painful things, the trauma and abuses I went throughout my life made me strong.. made me a fighter and survivor too! It made me realise the harsh reality of life! Life is not filled with beautiful flowers...it is also filled with thorns and it is upon us how we walk through that thorny path. "Either you give up...which is too cowardice"... "Or you could stand up and fight for what's right for you". After all

Back when he still flinched at my tone. He flinched now. The gun wavered just a fraction. Then he lowered it. Not all the way. Just enough to kick my front tire hard with his shoe slamming into rubber with a dull thud. “Fuck!” he snarled, kicking again. “How? How the fuck did you survive?” I lowered my hands slowly, never breaking eye contact. “Luck,” I said simply. “Fishermen rescued me. Hospital in Naples. I had skin grafts and went through pain. Lots of pain. And a lot of time to think about why my own brother tried to kill me.”

He said it could lead to a lot of complications in my brain and even lead to my death. Well, I had just proven him wrong when I’d graduated from school three months ago with my brain intact and also my life out of any danger. It had taken me time since I still got the dizzy spells, my vision went blank sometimes and then there were these damn migraines! But I had pushed through. And I will continue to push through until I made something out of my life. I wasn’t a victim, I’m a survivor and survive I will, no matter what life decides to throw at me.