Song Time Of Dying Novels & Stories

In the sky a last look. The scene ends, but the last melodies of the song still echo through the silence.But alas, even the peace of the world is short-lived, and what about the peace of those who have already died, but still live among us. PLAYLIST FOR THIS VOLUME Soraia and Augusto: Save Me Now-Andru Donald Soraia and Julio Cesar: Haunted - Evanescence Amy and Marcus: Run - Leona Lewis Malvina: The Other Side -Sirenia

he started singing, and I softly drifted to the side to rest straight in the bed. “She told him “You’ll forget in time,” His melodic voice was fading now that I was losing breath. My life had started to flash before my eyes. I was leaving behind many broken souls now. One was my mate, my husband who thought we have survived my death day. “As the years went slowly by,” As he sang sweetly, I felt my heart beating fading. The memories of us together when we met, we fought, were going to be left far behind. The light before my eyes turned into darkness and I could no longer see anything.

And far away, somewhere beyond the noise, a phone that had been forcefully hung up was about to ring again. White-hot pain tore through me. Blood flooded my mouth, metallic and choking. My body convulsed violently as oxygen vanished entirely. The world began to fade— sounds stretching, faces blurring, everything pulling away from me. Just as darkness was about to swallow me whole— A voice cut through the chaos like a gunshot. “Lay one more hand on my daughter,” she said slowly, “and none of you will ever leave this ship alive.”

We were meant to last…until death do us part. Thank you for reading TILL DEATH DO US PART, Aléjandro and Mia’s story. If you haven’t read NOW AND FOREVER, Dario and Catalina’s story, you can read it today or continue the series with BOUND BY A PROMISE, Dante and Camila’s story

My name began to appear in the public eye, and the rumors and scandals from before were soon gone. Occasionally, she would lock herself in her room for a long time, repeatedly playing the song on the score that I had given her. She began suffering from insomnia as well as auditory and visual hallucinations, her mental health deteriorating by the day. In the end, she lay in the bathtub, blood flowing from her wrist. She chose to end her life the same way I had tried to end mine. After her death, her organs were all donated. Even if I didn't want Elena's grave beside mine, she was still buried next to me in the end.

Inside the casket, I couldn't tell night from day. Hunger eventually stripped away what was left of my sanity. I bit at the wood and clawed at the lid over and over, desperate to tear my way out, until every single one of my fingernails ripped completely off my fingers. The already thinning oxygen grew heavy with a suffocating, putrid stench as my own waste started piling. I didn't know how many days had passed when I finally died in agony.

With the last of my strength, I fumbled my phone out of my pocket, raised it shakily to my ear, and gasped out between ragged breaths, "Blaire... I... I've been in an accident..." As I felt my life slipping away, a wave of terror crashed over me. What would happen to Blaire Kennedy if I died? I bit down hard on my tongue, forcing myself to stay conscious. "Blaire... if I don't make it through this... take care of yourself. Besides the house and the car, I've also been putting away a quiet savings account for you—a few hundred thousand in CDs. The deposit slips are tucked in—" "Jim, there's no one else here. You don't have to put on this act. I don't have time for your little performance righ

Every inch of shadow seemed to harbor a familiar groan—the echo of her own dying self, gasping for breath in the dark of the previous timeline. Sophia’s heels clicked against the concrete, the sound jarringly sharp, like the ticking of a countdown in the deathly silence. She reached the heavy iron doors of the morgue, where a sliver of eerie, electric-blue light bled through the rusted crack like a cold vein.

Back then, I paid no attention to the restaurant itself—the decor, the food being served, or even the music the owner had carefully selected. My mind had been a complete blank. Only his accusation of me being a homewrecker had lingered. But fortunately, that was all in the past now. At the moment, the only things I cared about were whether the food was good and whether the music sounded nice. The past no longer affected me. "Ms. Fritz? Ms. Fritz?" I snapped out of it. "Oh, what did you say?" "I was just saying, we're at the heart of Boren Wharf now. There are many sea lions there. It's quite fascinating. Want to stop and check them out?"

She glances at it under the table. One message, unknown number. “𝐸𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑖, 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔”