Lost Among The Living Novels & Stories

From then on, I finally became part of his world. He started talking to empty air, reminiscing about our so-called sweet memories. Sometimes, he would drop to his knees and beg me for forgiveness. Of course, those memories were fake. They were just words I had written in my diary, lies I had told myself to survive. Somehow, he could recite them perfectly. His cellmates hated his rambling. They beat him constantly, and every time they did, his delusions worsened. I could see it—his soul was starting to slip away.

Her scent still lingered on the pillow, taunting me with what I'd lost. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of despair, unable to find a lifeline. Ronan and Ryder felt it too and tried to be there with me, but even their presence felt like a reminder of what I'd lost. We'd shared April's love, and now she was gone, choosing that monster Winston over us.

A Ghost Among the Living Rigel couldn’t move. His breath hitched, his body frozen in place as he stared at the impossible sight before him. Daniel. Alive. For weeks, Rigel had lived with the crushing weight of grief, believing he had lost him forever. He had felt Daniel’s warmth fade from his hands, watched his body dissolve into nothing, swallowed by the abyss. He had screamed until his throat bled, clawed at the emptiness where Daniel had once stood, knowing there was no way to bring him back.

It was a living, breathing nightmare, a constant, gnawing fear that was a poison in my soul. I lost Arete. I lost Pavlina. I had lost so much, so many, that the thought of losing her, of losing the one person who had seen me, truly seen me, the one person who had brought me back from the brink of oblivion, was a pain so profound it was a physical thing, a crushing weight that was stealing the air from my lungs.

But now, that dream lies shattered, a cruel reminder that life is often filled with unbearable loss. As I move further away from the room, my vision is blurred by tears, I'm overwhelmed by a profound sense of loneliness. I'm all alone, just as I was when I lost my parents in childhood. The people I had considered my own family have all slipped away, leaving me in a desolate landscape.

Each life lost represented a shattered dream, a void that could never be filled. It was a dark day that would forever haunt our hearts. The pain of their absence was a constant reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded. But this is not the end of our story. In the midst of despair, a resilient spirit emerged within our pack. We came together, united by our shared grief, determined to rebuild and honor the memories of those we had lost. Just as Regina suggested, I have organized a funeral honoring everyone who has fought hard and lost their life in battle.

A year since that day I ran away from home and decided to die on an island. I had the perfect idea of the perfect death. It was not unsuccessful. In fact, the lost soul, Brieanna died and is still submerged down the ocean floor. I never retrieved my backpack, it's my grave.

Randall Krauft. As we move to the back entrance where they'll take me back down to the basement I remember the day we arrived here for the first time. Our pack had just been attacked, all ranked wolves were killed. Which included my parents and brother. It would include me, but we overheard a conversation before having a black bag forced over our head. "She's thirteen." It was one of the hunters. Humans who feel it's their job to rid the world of all beings they deem as "unnatural".

Some were dealing with or preparing for the unexpected loss of a loved one, and others were searching for their destined route on a road map previously unwritten. In the end, they all came out of it. While not unscathed–still forever and ever grateful for the lessons learned; Finding themselves, and one another. Hollis Bogard and Whitney York, along with everyone connected to them, turned out to be the ultimate proof of the famously beautiful statement “not all who wander are lost.”

Weak and miserable can't see the disgust and regret in her mate's eyes. She lost herself. And now she's just living without emotions, without the warmth. Without a fake hope. Without heart. Without love and her mate's care and affection. Just like a living stone. Cold and still, but breathing. Walking, seeing, eating, but without any feelings. Four years ago, she lost herself entirely after living in false hopes and holding onto her feelings and believing that one day she would get her mates attention and a little bit of love in his cold heart. She lost her pathetic hope of getting her mates affection and love.