Novel & Cerita Tired Of Living In Fiction

Going back to walking had given me the freedom I always wanted back, but also some emotional challenges for which I was not prepared. I still had constant nightmares with Gary Swan. I was still trapped in that filthy place full of mold. I still dreamed of Zachary's death caused by my numbness. There were days when I was barely able to differentiate reality from fantasy. Days when I sank on the couch and wrote fiction stories craziest than normal, and the worst thing is that my fans liked that kind of distraction.

I saved myself! "What does that have to do with me?" Cathedra blurted out. Diane stared at her coldly. "Why are you one of those liars, Cathedra? Why do you write of a fantasy life where everyone lives happily ever after like there's no sadness in the world at all? Do you want to live a fairy tale life so much that you would do anything to live out your fantasies? So much that you force upon others your delusions of seeing things that are not real at all?"

For a moment I felt lucky, but the next moment I had to fall again. "I miss Mom..." I wanted to hug her and tell her everything. The burden I carried in this fictional world was heavier than working in my original world. Hmmm... Fiction. It seems I have a glimmer of an idea. Fiction is just like a dream, right? So I have to imagine something to get what I want. So I decided to close my eyes, imagined the prison cell opening, and sure enough, the prison cell door opened! I was free! Unfortunately, the next thing that happened was...

It's been a solemn life, but these past few weeks have been a journey. After losing my parents, I wrote a poem and got stuck in another world with an idiot. And ever since then, my life became an adventure... like the plot of a fiction novel. I know I said I wouldn't die until I found my satisfaction, but this year's March... I've been happy. Oh... that's enough sentimental thinking. I still have to see the future. Hopefully, I won't... die. |...| A dark, empty room with only a chair in the middle... Sir Rigor managed to prepare ten thousand armed men, but he can't even get me a decent accommodation.

I was the living and breathing royalty that everyone expects me to be. Reaching my hand up to the slow-moving clouds, cold, wet. Even in this world, problems that I cannot control, follow. I thought I could escape the world, the reality that I live in, leave the town, and the people’s gossip about me. But why? Why does the world need to be so cliche? Right. I was in a book. Of course, everything had to be this cliche. The things that you would read in a fairy tale where the protagonist gets teleported somewhere and is expected to take responsibility for the world. Weighing the problems of everyone in here on her shoulders alone.

I like tо fіnіѕh аnd then gіvе mуѕеlf thе rеѕt of thе dау to let іt аll play оut in my hеаd, tо ѕау good bуе аnd thеn tomorrow іѕ аnоthеr bооk day, whеrе I’ll hореfullу fall іn love with thе nеxt characters. He rоllеd hіѕ еуеѕ in dіѕbеlіеf. “I dоn’t gеt it, thеу аrе fictional.” “Yоu knоw whеn уоu hаvе аn аmаzіng рlауеr at Arѕеnаl аnd thеn thеу uр аnd leave to a bеttеr сlub.”

“So you want to see the real me, do you?” “No.” She had a feeling that it wasn’t pretty. No one who did the things he had to would be all sweetness and light. “You want to know what I want? A boring, suburban existence. I want to fight with the cable repairman, go grocery shopping early to avoid traffic, pay a mortgage. I’ve lived a life of adventure, and you know what? It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I want to sleep in the same bed every night with sheets that I’ve washed and not have to worry about bedding down in an alley where a drunk might stumble in to harass me. I don’t want to have to kill anyone else.” She looked away. “I’m tired of them trying to kill me.”

I took a few steps forward, "Believe me, this life hurts hell a lot more." And I am so tired of getting hurt. I am so tired of battling with this life and losing...of searching for something I'll never find. I am tired of trying. Of everything. I speak to the old me, the one I barely remember, the victim; and to the man I've became today, the villain of my own story. And I realize, every villain must die. I finally give up on the fight warring my mind. I don't want to fight anymore,

I’ll be forced to have a cold shower to curb my desires. Gosh, I can’t wait for this marriage to end, I’m fucking tired of living in pretense. I’d rather forfeit my inheritance than remain in this loveless marriage. It’s as if my whole life is a lie, I’m stuck in this hellhole and forced to play the role of a good wife when I could be out there, partying and having so much fun with my friends. I need it to end, I want a way out of this deal. I fucking tired!

I reach for my phone. I open a message to Sebastian. I type and delete twice. The first attempt is too much. The second attempt is too clever. I settle on the thing I actually mean, because I'm tired of not saying the things I actually mean: do you ever feel like you're living inside a story someone else wrote? I send it before I can think about it. I put the phone face-down on the duvet. I pick up Finn and Fiona and read three more pages without absorbing a single word.