She Is Hopeless Novels & Stories

It didn’t matter how much Jonah rubbed my hand to warm it; the bruises remained on my pale skin. The doctor coldly put a report in front of them. “This is the autopsy report. She’s been sick for at least three months. During these three months, she was severely malnourished. All she had in her stomach was cheap vitamin pills and nothing else. “Her bloodstream is made up mostly of immature white blood cells. Without treatment, the late stage of this illness causes agonizing pain. How did she handle it?”

She let go of me and frowned. "I'm good at reading people and my instincts have never been wrong," her eyes glowed and vanished almost immediately. She should be in her late fifties but looks way older. It's common amongst women who lost their mate. Some usually kill themselves due to the pain of losing a mate. Her wolf must be very strong to still be sane after losing a mate. "Come let me take you to your room," she said and together we left the room.

It was a cause-and-effect kind of thing. Drowned in thoughts and tears, she let sleep carry her away. As she did, she was hopeful that tomorrow would be an entirely new day for the two of them. Yes, she was hopeful.

Shane’s heated breath fanned my cheek. My soft curves melded against his chiseled one and I forgot how to breathe. My mourning heart skipped a beat—his words shoved life into my dying soul. I’ve spent the last 24 hours yearning for him and wishing for nothing more than his love and affection. Even with everything that has happened in the last day, hope blossomed in my chest. I should have known better, but I was a glutton for punishment. Shane had a tendency to throw me a bone, only to yank it away before I could sink my teeth into it. I was stupid, but as I fought the tears from escaping, I knew it was hopeless. I was hopeless.

Or else, she will never let me go through with this arrangement, in the hopes of finding another solution. She is still full of hope for the future, but I know better than that by now. I know that the time for hope has left the station an eternity ago, and now, there is nothing that she can do to help. I am stuck in the deep marsh– and there is no way out of it now.

I shouted in tears, expecting her to back me up or pull me into a hug but all I got was a chuckle. "I know how it feels when a lot of bad things happen to you and it feels like the only thing you put your faith into isn't doing anything on your behalf you feel like the world has shut itself up on you and you become frustrated and annoyed at some point you lose hope, but the biggest mistake you can ever make losing hope," she said and I looked at her as if she had finally lost it, only if I could see who she was because whatever she was spilling sounded like rubbish to me.

"Not like this." He moved back. "I'm sorry." "Sorry?" she echoed, voice rising. "Sorry, doesn't take back what you've done." "Forgive me, please," he pleaded. Her voice broke. "I don't know if I can." He took a deep breath. "You're my only hope." She shook her head, bitter and shattered. "I'm not the hope. I'm the price." Her phone screamed loudly on the counter. She gazed at it.

that was seeking a new, younger host. Hope stood at the center of the spinning floor. She was no longer the ten-year-old girl who had laughed in the South. Her hair was a roiling cloud of Black-Emerald-Gold Plasma, her eyes two burning portals of Absolute, Un-Filtered Calculation. She didn't look at me with love; she looked at me with Assessment. "You have broken the hunger of the father, Mother," Hope spoke, her voice a perfect, melodic resonance that echoed the First Luna’s own frequency.

"She is going to be more than okay. She is going to be—extraordinary. In the best way possible." "She already is." "No. She is becoming. Every day. Every choice. Every moment she chooses love over fear, hope over despair, creation over destruction—she is becoming exactly who she was meant to be. Not who Marcus made. Not who the Consortium wanted. Who she chose. Who she is choosing. Right now. In that garden. With those seeds." Hope finished planting. Stood up. Brushed dirt from her hands. Looked at twelve small plots of earth. Twelve promises to dead children. Twelve reasons to keep living.

Zerrin looked shocked, “I want you to sing a song” “Sing a song?” Zayn looked disgusted, “Oh please, could you waste your dare any other way? Emre doesn’t even have a good singing voice! No offence, bro!” “None taken, I’d rather jump in the ocean myself,” Emre looked annoyed. “Um okay then, if you really don’t want to, I just didn’t want you to catch a cold, ” Zerrin looked embarrassed. She was so transparent with her crush on Emre written all over her face that I felt second hand embarrassment just looking at her.