Novel & Cerita The Lives Of Others Novel

She gave me a tired look. “ That is why we are craving for a home. I use to think we're existing because we are here to live and die later. But I realized, living while dying is possible. No one seems to understand us the way we understand ourselves. It's crazy to think we can give comforts to others we wish we could give to ourselves.”

Finally, my vision darkened, and I went unconscious. I was losing my mind. Box after box filled with dismembered remains began arriving at my doorstep. But it wasn't just at home. Even while walking down the street, an innocent-looking child would hand me a box. I grabbed the child, desperately questioning who had given it to him and what they looked like. However, I had never found anyone, even when I chased after them. When I went to work, my face haggard, I noticed colleagues glancing at me with peculiar expressions as they whispered amongst themselves.

" I immediately run towards her, and I was about to push her... But... It's too late. I found our body lying on the road with blood. I tried to reach out her hand even though I cant hardly move my body and my eyes are getting blurry. "J...J...Joy... Joy... Wake...up. Wake up. Joy... Wake up." I shed tears. I keep patting her hands, but she's not responding to me anymore. My eyes are getting blurry that I want to close my eyes now. However, before I could close my eyes, I saw... The door of the car opened. From inside a woman come out. I didn't have a chance to see her face because I lost my consciousness. --- THE END. SEE YOU IN BOOK 2 :')

"You're living off your wife, yet you still have the nerve to play the victim? Get the hell out of Jovelle already!" Vincent likely never imagined that the parasite in his eyes—the one he thought only knew how to cook and do laundry—could possess such sharp, lethal methods. With a single post, I had cut off every last one of his escape routes. The tide had turned, and just as I was preparing to shut down my computer and enjoy my victory, my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unknown number. "Let's talk, Helena. For old time's sake, what will it take for you to spare me?"

"Your life is like a movie come to life." "I know right," Lila replied, her mind roughly going through all she had been through since leaving the house. Sometimes she wondered what direction her life would have taken had she stayed at home. For one thing, she was sure that she would not have gone to jail for killing someone. "You know, your brother and I are not in a relationship."

Sèdonoudè came in from time to time, though he too began to spend as much time as he could away, creeping furtively back to his bedroom, studiously ignoring Lala as well, both of them, unwilling witnesses, ashamed, frightened of the pity they could feel surrounding their beating hearts. No, this was no glorious death such as was found in the pages of Aldous Huxley’s last novel, Island. It was instead a quiet, sad, and futile giving up of all that there is. There would be no obituary.

Damn "Go to hell, you bastard. This is for killing the other girls out here." the eyes popped out it hit my face. “It’s enough we have to go. I got the key.” We are about to open the door when the last one standing bastard shove his knife to me but the older woman took it for me and she tried to throw bricks but it missed out the target. She was stabbed in the abdomen and blood is even dripping on her mouth. I went to strangle the man with a belt I got from the other guards. I take my knife with me and stab his neck blood ooze out to my satisfaction I stab it deeper and deeper these bastards took the lives and innocence of every woman that was sent here. They are left here without proper jur

She had been drawn to a leak in a dam she never knew existed, and she had plugged it with her mother's life and her own soul, only to widen the crack in the process. I saw it then, with terrifying clarity. The "Others" were not one entity, but a hive, a consciousness from a reality adjacent to our own, a dimension of entropy and chaos that fed on order and life. The Warden was just a scout, a single tendril of a much larger, hungrier being. And our world, with its vibrant life and strong emotional bonds, was a feast. The final memory was the most chilling. It was the last thought of the Keeper who had split the medallion, the one who had foreseen Darius's rise.

Death offers nothing to admire, be it the pale skin of the corpse, the stiff joints, the cloudy eyes, the dilated pupils, the decomposed skin, or the white maggots wriggling around. However, taking someone's life, the process of turning something alive into something dead, stealing that divine power, is what drives people insane. When the final shovel of dirt is thrown, it's as if she has buried the hesitant, wavering human beneath the deep pit. The respectful driver with his hands behind his back stood solemnly waiting for him to enter. Alexandra Dhara, with his hand, expressed her desire to enter first, in a very natural and gentle manner.

He started to speak again, but Phoebe cut in from the side, her voice bitter. "They've probably been seeing each other for a long time. Now, she wants him out with nothing." Her words seemed to remind Miles of something. This time, he didn't try to stop me. On the plane, I looked out at the city lights fading into the distance. There was no hesitation or attachment, only a quiet sense of anticipation. When we landed in the new city, Jonas took me back to the old neighborhood where I used to live. The neighbors still remembered me. They greeted me as we passed, warm and familiar. Their voices made me smile before I even realized it.