Things Have Gotten Worse Novels & Stories

I say and my mom nods and hugs me. “Things will change. Everything's going to be better.” says my mother and I nod, mentalizing that to myself. The worst is over, differences have been resolved and although we are not without problems, we are living a little better now. So, everything can get better, not to the point of being perfect, but, it can get better. “You're right, Mother. Things will be better. So, let's try to get out of this as well as possible, because when everything is better, we will be able to tell this smiling for everything we managed to overcome.

‘I’ have always been the problem. They said hard work would never let you down, but it let me down more than I could ever count. Every single day, no matter how hard I try, I keep getting worse as if there was this invisible force stopping me from getting better. I keep turning into this ugly version of myself.

and he does, leaving me with my own thoughts again as I don't sleep for the rest of the morning. Every good thing comes to an end eventually, but it must happen for a person to move on and get better at life. That's what I've told myself constantly for over a seven weeks now, getting ready to go and leave, for the better. As the days go on, life gets worse, as this happens my days blend more and more into each other but stay long and boring, the gang has grown more and more absent in the house, they've grown distant and cold to one another, and they have started to become aggressive and easily agitated in their work and at home.

He seems to understand that, reciprocating the act. “Things have been terrible while you were gone,” I whisper against his chest. “I know,” he replies gently. “Things will get better now.” “I’m not sure about that,” I say. I can’t imagine how anything in this world could make my situation any better. Perhaps a few things would, but none that I can obtain right now. “I have a horrible headache right now.”

Not just with the elders. But here. Everywhere. And whatever it was… It was getting worse. Fast.

My stomach dropped immeasurable. And suddenly, I knew things were about to get much worse.

"This would happen if you didn’t begin proper treatment." I ran a hand through my hair. "Yeah, but you also said I had time.” "I said that if you were lucky, you had time," he corrected, "But, listen to me, Mr Kingston, it’s getting worse. If what you're feeling right now is the same thing you complained about last week then I'm afraid, your condition is becoming a lot worse than we envisaged.” I paced the room, my hands flexing uselessly at my sides. It felt like his words were slamming into me with so much force.

Tried to ignore it, and the more I did, the more it intensified. What the fuck is happening to me?

If only it were that easy. Violet pulled her from her thoughts with a hum, nodding along as if she’d thought about it a little more and agreed. “Yeah…” she sighed, shrugging as if it were hopeless. “I guess you’re right... Things around here always tend to get worse.” Even when it didn’t feel possible. Even when you did everything right - prayed and put in the hard work - it got worse. Just like clockwork, whether you deserved it or not. They most certainly did not.

I hesitated, then decided fuck it. “Everything keeps getting worse,” I admitted quietly. “Every answer just drags me deeper into this shit, and the deeper it gets, the more impossible everything starts feeling.” Raffaele didn't interrupt, he just listened, and somehow that made it easier to keep going. “I used to think the arrangement was the worst thing that happened to me,” I admitted with a bitter laugh. “Now it feels like the smallest part of all this.” His hand tightened slightly around my wrist before loosening again.