She's Hopeless Novels & Stories

She feel so hopeless about everything. "I'm willing to fight for my rights. B-But how can I start doing that if I have nothing but a faded hope?" she whispered to herself in distress.

She’s hopeless. The third woman is Irene. She’s forty-two years old, tall, thin, white but dry skin and looks thrice older than her age. No educational attainment. She’s a former addict, and now she’s a prostitute for a living. To support her five children from different men, and none of them has a father. She is now trying to change her life to find a decent job that can support her children.

Asked the girl, her dark coloured hair seeping through the hood. “I helped you because you gave me hope, something I haven’t known in all my years with Tarian.” “Hope?” laughed the half-breed, “I don’t believe I have ever known it, not in all my years.” “You are still young, there is still time. Perhaps you should hold onto the hope that you will see your mother again, it is a powerful thing. Without it, well; everything seems a little less manageable.” “But I do not know how to find her? So how can I hope that I will? It is foolish to believe in something that seems impossible.”

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵 𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞 Through anguish and despair, I'll find my way, I'll heal the wounds, as I face a brand-new day. This broken girl will learn to love again, And find solace in the music, that helps her transcend. 𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞𝄞 ♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪ She was in her thoughts and didn't realize when zohaib came into the hall and sat near her. maheen came back into reality when someone sat near her.

Raphael's eyes were fixed on her, his face pale with shock and horror. And then, in a voice that was barely above a whisper, Riezel dropped the final bombshell. "You know, Raphael, it's ironic. The woman you loved and lost, Delilah, is the same woman you love now, Ava. Isn't that funny?" The world around us seemed to freeze, the only sound the heavy breathing of the crowd, the only movement the slight tremble of Riezel's hands as she clutched the shotgun. Raphael's eyes were fixed on me, his face a mask of shock and confusion.

“Mister Dixon, I must leave New York for a few weeks. I make my position as a PA available for you to find a new one. I know it is an unjustified departure, and that gives you a reason for dismissing me. This was the professional part of this message. Now comes the personal part. Christopher, you're right when you say I love you. But you don't know who I am. If you knew, you would never love me. My body is not what you think. I'm not the perfect woman you can love and take to bed. If you saw me naked, you would be disgusted with me. I already told you I couldn't have children, but I didn't tell you why. I was not born with the body parts a woman needs to bear children for the man she loves.

"She's be hopeless and helpless. Left all alone to the world... That's when we'd strike." "We have to be careful, others might swoop in before us." "We just have to be careful then. " She slightly chuckled. "How beautiful. After all these years..." She moved, her hair, a mixture of all the colours of sunset as their radiated their beauty on her. "And funny enough, papa Rosewood wouldn't even know he is being manipulated." "Once a dork, always a dork." Came his reply. "You can take the man out of the village but can't take the village out of him." She added.

“Don’t break my heart tonight. I can’t take it.” I pressed my lips to her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo. “I know everything’s crazy right now. The Council, the threats, the pressure. But I’m begging you, don’t lose hope. Please.” She pulled back just enough to look up at me. Tears streamed down her cheeks like rivers, eyes glassy and devastated. “But you will,” she whispered. I frowned. “What?” “You’ll lose hope. You’ll get tired. You’ll succumb to the pressure… and you’ll leave.”

"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.

“He wants them pure. Undivided. No weak-blooded branches. No bonds across lines. He calls it cleansing.” I clenched my fists. “And you believe in that?” She walked past me—slow, graceful, as if the earth didn’t dare defy her. “No,” she said. “I just don’t believe in hope anymore.” I turned. “Then why are you telling me this?” She paused. “Because you do.” Her voice cracked. “And if that hope kills him—if it finally silences Malric—then maybe… maybe I’ll stop hearing the song.” And then she was gone.