Reasons To Stay Alive Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I could feel his shameless stares but I did not say anything. “Are you okay?” I paused. Am I okay? Yes! I am. When Dan was chasing me, I could only think of one thing. Survive. Surviving in spite of the great danger waiting for me. I know now that treasuring my own life is one of the most important things in this world. My daughter needs me. My patients need me. There are people who want me to survive in spite of the pain and suffering this world has given me. My dad, my daughter, Tyler, my aunt and uncle, my cousin, my patients. They all want me to survive. I still haven't fulfilled my purpose, that's why I should continue living.

"When I was younger, I used to think survival was enough." She looked at him. His gaze remained fixed on the chamber below. "I thought if people stayed alive, everything else could wait." There was no bitterness in his voice. Only reflection. "And now?" He was quiet for several seconds. "Now I think people need reasons to live." The statement settled gently between them. Because it was true. Survival mattered. But meaning mattered too. Memory. Connection. Belonging. Those things transformed existence into life. Below them, Kaelis addressed a gathering of scholars near the central platform.

"I'm saying your reasoning is flawed. If we're going to have rules, let's base them on something that actually matters. Balance. Sustainability. Self-preservation. Not some misguided attempt to be the good guys in a story that doesn't have heroes." Blackwell opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked like a fish gasping for air. "The only reason we don't drain every human we meet isn't because of empathy," I continued. "It's because we need them alive. Dead humans don't reproduce. Dead humans don't maintain the infrastructure we depend on. Dead humans don't keep our existence secret from the masses who would try to destroy us if they knew what we really were." I could see him struggling, tr

“Yes, you might, but… well, people mostly don’t understand that things go the way they go to take them where they need to get… haha, it sounds complicated…” “It does, especially if you don’t believe in such a thing as destiny,” she said thoughtfully, seeing her body bleed while a guy stitches her heart. “Well, my point is that you survived longer for a reason. You went to Onerea for a reason, and we’re standing here for a reason. Believe it or not, it happened like that. Oh, and you didn’t answer my question. In the case that you could choose again, would you choose to live?” “Yes. But not giving up on my memories.”

I am an outsider, an outcast to this foreign place, alone and homeless. On the way to this point, I several times thought of giving up. Because why am I still alive? For what else? To live a life full of misery is useless. To live with a haunting past is like living in nightmares. So now, the question repeats itself in my mind. Why am I still thriving to live until now? It is the question I always ask myself every time I'm in danger. Because it reminds me of my reasons. And each time I remember the purpose of this life, it gives me the fuel to live.

That evening, after Caroline had gone to bed, Ernest sat in the study and wrote in his journal: May, thirty-fifth year. Caroline came to stay. She said: The five books are about this life in the form of an argument. The four written books are the arguments arrived at. The fifth — the living — continues. Every journal entry. Every ordinary morning. The fifth book continues as long as life continues. I said: the building is forever because the fifth book does not end. The living is the building. The building is the living. Both things are true and have always been true and will continue to be true.

Will they hinder any possible chances of me having a normal life? Her book says 'everything happens for a reason', and I'm still trying to process the reason for my kidnap, hostage situation and near death experience. What's the reason for almost dying? Is it a lesson that life can be ended at any time even without me being ready? Is it to prove to me that cruel people do exist in the world? I'd long come to term with that aspect of life. I'd learned that people can do horrendous things to prove a point. I'm a living proof of that fact. So maybe, she could answer these questions- help me to find the closure that I need.

“Because you don’t need weapons. You rewrite reality.” “You are the only man who has ever put a knife to my throat and survived,” he answers. “Not because I couldn’t defend myself. Because I didn’t want to.” “Why?” “Because she would have stayed on your side if I had died there.” A pause. “And I prefer to be alive and losing than dead and irrelevant.” The honesty of the sentence hits me in an unexpected way. I recognize in it something I would feel myself. The logic of a man who prefers the pain of presence to the certainty of absence.

I flipped through the pages and I found it; "Life did not go as expected. Still finding the importance as to why I should live." "Great, I will the starting real school this session. Cheers to more pain." "I just live, not because I have a reason. But because death seems so far." Tears slpiued down my face. I could feel there pains behind those words. My life is messy too. The door suddenly opened. It was Kingsley's mother. I hurriedly closed the book and wiped my tears.

It should've been that despicable woman's child who died, not mine. Derick, alarmed, moved to silence Jasmine, but it was too late. Her accusation had already ignited the fury of the family elders. "Die from sickness? Ayden is the White family's heir, our boss's own grandson. How dare you wish death upon him? Derick, are you looking to get shot alongside your adopted sister?" Derick, his heart pounding, swallowed hard and hissed at Jasmine, "Have you lost your mind? Stop spewing garbage and apologize this instant!"