Quotes On Escaping Reality Novels & Stories

“The radiant star isn’t a weaver’s tool or the nexus’s judgment. It’s the abyss the crucible of all creation, all destruction. What we face here isn’t about saving the nexus. It’s about saving reality.” Lucas clutched his dagger, his face gaunt, his usual defiance drowned in a fear that etched lines into his young features, his words sharp with desperation. “Reality? We’ve fought shadows, gods, and the damn nexus itself. What’s next unmaking the universe? I’m not ready for this, Jess.”

She felt the weight of their stares too. One night, she finally said it. “They’re still watching.” I nodded. “They always will.” Her voice trembled. “Then how do we ever escape this?” I cupped her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. “We don’t escape it. We outlive it. The city will always whisper. But if we stop listening, it loses its teeth.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “And if it doesn’t?” “Then it learns,” I said fiercely. “Because I won’t lose you to shadows.”

"This place can sometimes take it out on you, so much so that what you say can't seem to harm you more then being out there, exposed." "Is that how you feel, safe here, from the outside?" "Not from the outside but from myself." " Who are you then, in here?" I take a breath before I answer. " Just someone trying to get through each passing day, with only dreams to keep me alive." I say. "Don't lose yourself away from reality." " I think it's a little too late for that." I state. "No I don't believe that." He disagrees. "Believe whatever you want but it is what it is." I say shrugging.

"James. James, look at me. You're safe. You're—you're with family. You're home." James's eyes focused. Found mine. Recognition dawned. "Eva?" His voice was small. Broken. "Is—is this real? Or is she—is she making us think we escaped? Is this—is this just her feeding on us differently? Is—" "It's real," Reaper said. "I promise it's real. You're in the Rusty Spoke. You're back. You're—" "How?" Albert asked. He was standing now. Unsteady. But standing. "How did we escape? The prison was—was unbreakable. The entity was consuming us. We were dying. How—"

“What’s wrong with doing all those things with me? I’ll have you know, many girls will scramble for a chance to be in a relationship with me. I’m a catch, you know.” “‘Reality can be beaten with enough imagination’. Yann Martel.” Silence. “What does that mean?” I gave a heavy sigh and went back to scribbling and striking out. This was going to be a very trying time.

The wounds that all of us possesses isn’t something that easily heals. That is why I also know that this moment that I am in right now is not real. I took one last look at the people around me as I try to memorize how their face looks when they are happy and loved. Once I have them printed in my heart, I closed my eyes and started to chant the words that I have been repeatedly saying over and over again. ‘This is not real.’ As much as I love this moment, I also know that I can’t stay here, because one, this isn’t real. And two, I can’t live here. This isn’t my reality, because there is no such thing as a perfect life.

The sound of pursuit grew louder with each passing second, the whisper of shadows transforming into a cacophony of malice. My mind locked onto a single, desperate thought: escape. I had to get back to my world. That was how it always worked, wasn’t it? I would simply close my eyes, focus, and—bam!—I’d wake up safely back in my reality. But not this time. Why wasn’t it working? Why now when I needed it the most? Panic clawed at my chest as the realization hit me like a wave crashing against the shore. This wasn’t like before.

That I could be free of this awful, awful disease. I struggle to escape reality once again as my head hits a hard surface, and I succeed as the pain knocks me unconscious. The last thing that comes to mind is the word free.

“Do you know why they keep getting faster?” She shook her head in denial. “Because you set my heart free, my amoris. My heart was imprisoned in some abandoned corner of my chest for years until it found its escape in you. You are my freedom, Zeve, my escape from reality — you are my reality. I deny the authenticity of any reality which doesn’t have you in it…” She took back her hand, blinking as she faced the pool. I feebly pulled her close. Her body glided to me effortlessly, her chest against mine, my arms around her waist, my gaze locked with her — that was the only reality I wanted to live in.

I continued. “I’ve been dying. You made me realize that if I don’t open my eyes, I’ll be dead before seeing reality.” “I will define surviving now as…” I paused. “Doing everything you can to escape your present situation. Not embracing it with open arms while dying a bitter second at a time,” I said firmly. “So not anymore. Fuck Michael. Fuck this house. Fuck Alvin and Serena too.” “This is our world. We make our own rules,” Frieda replied, her smile soft, but filled with a newfound hope that had been lost in the dark.