Miserable Life Meaning Novels & Stories

My heart and my life was so miserable that time. But one day, I woke up trying to open my eyes while also trying to find the beauty of this world. Trying to fit myself and trying to find a place where I belong. Everything is not perfect. Every person in this world surely have a painful and sad story of them. But me, I am nothing but a wrecked woman who is just trying to live her life. Life wrecked me. Fate wrecked me and that is the saddest reality of my story.

"It's okay. It's my fault it happened." I stared at the fish tank and it felt like this gave me the ability to explain what was going on in my head. "My life is pointless, miserable and wretched." I vented out with my hands around a pillow I unconsciously placed on my laps. My eyes never left the fish tank. "Why is my life so miserable?" I asked, staring at him like he had all the answers in the world.

Anything and at any cost. I felt miserable. Why should everything bad in this awful life always happen to me? Am I destined to never live a happy day? God, please help us, please. Cure Cody and let him be healthy again. I can't take it anymore. This little boy shouldn't endure so many things in his life. It's too much for him!

He did not understand why he would feel such an intense pain over the death of someone he had once hated so much. The sunlight had dimmed, making the atmosphere even more gloomy and sad. The phone rang once again. [Officer Damon, did you like the gift that I sent you? If you like it, do give my video a like.]

What has come to my life? People despair for a lot of reasons. I am the same. For someone like me, who has been struggling since I was born, until I became of age, and now when I am living in this cruel world alone, I couldn't understand the meaning of my life. How could people find meaning in life when every little move and you're struggling yet again? It's meaningless. A never-ending cycle of struggle and pain.

The mistakes bring nothing but bad memories. I don't want to say I hate the two people who should be referred to as my parents but I don't like them either. They are responsible for this horrible and miserable life that I am living. At this point, I can no longer hold it in anymore because tears begin to roll down my eyes before I know it but I am quick to suck in my sob, forcefully pushing it back from escaping my tightly closed mouth. I am doomed. I can't survive this. I can't survive being a school dropout and homeless at the same time. I can't continue with this pathetic life. I am done trying.

I didn’t know what, but at least, something that could have helped with this fucked up situation. ‘Walk in your footsteps?’ Her bitter chuckle echoed through the destroyed bathroom, and all the empty corners yelled out what a failure I was, "Walk in your bloody footsteps, the path you have painted with murders and crimes, gradually become as fucked up as you?! That's what you call life? What's the life you wish your child to live? I can't believe you. You want your child to live a miserable life just like you and drown in the same darkness, you, yourself have never managed to get away from."

She couldn't think of the last time she felt very much alone. Resting her head against the pillow, she lost in deep thoughts. She was a thousand miles away from home, deserted from the people she loved, to escape from a disastrous fate of being shackled to an absolute swine for eternity. Ironically, that supposed to be the only chance to a respectable life that she might ever have. It seemed like a proper and decent life was never meant for her. She and her line were doomed. She was condemned to a life of disgrace. No man considered her worth a travail. Even if she finally found a man who was brave enough to get himself in a tussle and stand up for her, in the end, still and all, he turned h

“You don’t deserve that, Millicent. “You’re going to crawl through every single day in pain. In anguish. In torment. “You’re going to suffer the greatest misery of your fucking pathetic life. “Every day, you’ll wish for death. Beg for death. Yearn for death… even breathe for death. “But it will never come. “You’re going to wither away while you’re still alive. “And you’ll become so desperate and frustrated you’ll want to gouge your own eyes out of their sockets. “So no… I’m not wasting my bullet on a fucking bitch.”

Why do you keep making my life miserable? “Having you,” She started quietly, “Was the real misery. You were barely six months old when your father started gambling—he said it was to make things better for us. For you.” Again—she never stopped using this against me. I swallowed that forced guilt down. “Then let me go.” My voice cracked on the last word. “If I’m such misery, let me go. Stop showing up, stop calling. Stop using me every time your life isn’t going how you want.”