Novel The Sense Of An Ending Novels & Stories

“Mom and Dad are just behind us. Let’s go meet them together.” I nodded, gripping the stone ring in my hand. Thank goodness I still had them behind me. The End.

Just like what happened to me in my previous life. When I heard of their death, the weight on me was instantly relieved. Those who brought about my tragic end were gone at last. The winter of my life ended, and I was heading toward spring.

“I haven’t written the ending yet.” “Is it working?” “I thought it was,” she confesses, tucking her hand underneath my T-shirt. Her hand is warm, and the way she trails it along the waistband of my jeans is doing things to me. “Before I came back, I was hoping it would work, but now I know that was hopeless.” “I read the book in one night. I couldn’t stop, even at times when reading so many of our moments together felt too heavy. The sun had come up by the time I made it to the ending. If you could even call it an ending.”

I stayed up in my room reading the black book don gave to me some time last week but i realized it was the translated version of what Claudia told me about. For the hundredth time that day I glanced through the list of allies whose names were inscribed in the book and i was totally lost cause no name seemed familiar and i was frustrated cause I didn't know who I could trust. Fuck everything felt like a dead end. I cursed and raked my hands in my hair. I shut the book and groaned in frustration. I was disrupted by the soft knock of someone. Immediately I figured out it was Esmeralda I hurriedly cleared my bed from the files and other stuff that didn't need to be seen by her.

Good day to everyone who has come this far. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the ending of this piece of fiction. It has been a pleasure to write such a book unlike any other under my current roster. In all honesty, I went through a rollercoaster of emotions throughout this period with hesitation on the ending and if there should be more extra chapters or a more fitting epilogue. Yet after reconsidering it, I realised it was simply my reluctance to leave. Indeed, all stories must come to an end and in this case especially, I believe this ending is good enough. It is time to start anew and head to another path, another Rebirth...

The future was now bright. THE END

I whisper, “Gavin . . . what is The End?” He shakes his head wordlessly and looks back out the window. So I look back at that journal lying there, begging me to read it. And maybe I’ve swallowed this whole thing hook, line and sinker, become tainted by the obsessions of a fractured mind with a skewed perception of reality, but I suddenly realize how appropriate the translation of those strange words is because I feel, somehow, that I’m about to be weighed and measured, and as I finally reach to turn that page to the next story, I wonder, at the end of this . . .

With his other hand, he removed some of the white that was around us and had me look. "Take a look Daughter." He urged. "I want you to see something. And do your best to focus." So, I did; I studied it extremely hard. From where we were standing, I saw images flash before me so fast that I had I fell backwards and collapsed on my ass. I saw everything. Elizabeth winning. Olivia, getting away with killing Erin. Kaitlyn dying. Samantha mourning. The twins also equally devastated. Julian and Sophie celebrating. Our world completely changed. Our world, completely unrecognizable.

Everything went white. Not brightness. Not light. A total erasure of contrast. Even thought struggled to take shape. Emma couldn’t feel her body. Couldn’t locate her identity. Couldn’t anchor herself to anything familiar. Only the echo remained. Emma. Her name. Spoken with impossible familiarity. Not as a label. But as recognition. Something inside her tightened violently. The End stirred. Not aggressively this time. Carefully. Like something listening to a sound it had not heard in a very long time.

The portrait on the opposite wall no longer looked ordinary. The eyes of his grandfather seemed to point toward a single bookshelf. Emma noticed it too. "Liam..." "I think he's showing us something." Liam stood immediately. They hurried toward the shelf. Dozens of books covered it. Most looked untouched. But one book stood out. Unlike the others, its spine was clean. Someone had handled it recently. Emma reached for it. "Wait," Liam said. "It could be another trap." Emma smiled nervously. "At this point, everything is a trap."