Pain Pain Go Away Novels & Stories

He asked. I balled up my fist in anger till my knuckles turned white."Yes." I admitted. He sighed. "Faith let me tell you. That never works." He said sadly. "Believe me I tried that before. Drinking doesn't get rid of the pain permanently. You only get to live without the pain for a day, but then the next day it goes back and will stay there forever. Following you around like a ghost." He explained. I turned away from him. Everyday I always have to live with the pain for 3 years. I just want to live without that pain for just one day. One day is all I ask for.

I just lay there, waiting for the pain to go away, expecting to find the strength to move soon. My head throbs with headaches, and I have the worst bodily aches all over. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, but the pain is excruciating. I try to divert my attention, but I can’t seem to keep my mind off the pain. I just lay there, powerless, waiting for it to be over.

his voice was choked to feel his small throat almost close "of course there are pains that do not pass!" "But eventually they go down, right? This is also a way to pass on" that gentle smile still lay on his face as he said, and his hands still caress those target wires that sparkled so much in the sun "then, my most precious thing..., the pain can be unbearable, the days may not seem to pass, the moon may not seem to shine in the sky as before, but you know? One hour you can see everything as it was before, or even in a more vibrant way..."

I drop the sheets and sink onto the edge of the bed, hugging my pillow for comfort as the pain gradually subsides. I close my eyes, taking deep, slow breaths, rubbing my stomach with my palm, trying to steady myself. The ache lingers for a moment longer before fading into the background, but my mind is already racing—what could that have been? Was it normal? Or do I need to worry?

I tilted my head back and took calming breathes. Five minutes after, the pain stopped and I felt relieved. I staggered with my hand on my abdomen as I made my way into my office. My eyes were stinging from the tears in my eyes as the pain had gotten worse. I fell on the couch in my office and pressed my abdomen hard but nothing stopped the pain. I raised my gaze to the phone on my desk. I wanted to call for help but I couldn’t. Even my voice was weak. I stared at the ceiling and groaned with tears falling out of my eyes. I didn’t understand the pain at all.

I stand by the window, watching as the sun beats down on the yard. It's a bright, clear day, but the warmth of the sunlight doesn’t seem to do anything for the chill that’s creeping through my bones. The pain is back. It’s not as bad as before, but it’s there—lingering, pulling at my muscles and joints. I clench my fists, trying to ignore it, but it’s no use. It’s like the relief I felt was nothing more than a fleeting high, like a drug that’s now wearing off.

I sat down slowly and started eating, forcing myself to relax and believe that everything was fine, and for a while, it worked. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I sucked in a breath and pressed my hand against it, waiting for it to pass, because this was not the first time I had felt something like this, I had told myself before that it was nothing, that it was just part of everything my body was going through. So I ignored it and took another sip of the tea, then another until the pain faded slightly. I let out a slow breath, trying to calm myself again, but something else had began to take its place.

I drained it, stepped into the adjacent walk-in shower for a quick, thorough wash, and stood under the hot spray for another five minutes just to keep the chill at bay. By the time I walked into my closet, wrapped tightly in a plush white towel, the severe, blinding edge of the pain had successfully downgraded into a dull, manageable throb. It was still there, a constant, irritating reminder pulsing in my lower back, but at least I could stand up straight without feeling like I was going to pass out.

I wanted to call out for help, but the pain was so intense that I could barely speak or move. The pain ultimately lasted for about 20 minutes. And then, just as quickly as it started, the pain suddenly stopped. Like a light switch turned off. Convinced it was over, and knowing it was far too late in the night to do anything about it, I tried to go back to sleep. It took me a while to calm myself down enough to fall asleep again, but I eventually did. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t over. I was woken up again a while later with the same type of pain. This time, though, it only lasted about 15 minutes.

"Please." Perhaps I was delusional because, for a fleeting moment, the pain seemed to subside before surging back with double the intensity. I tried lying on my front, then on my back, and then on my sides—nothing provided relief. The pain continued to escalate. It felt as if my life force was being drained from my body, my energy levels plummeting rapidly.