Tragedy You Are My Remedy Novels & Stories

My voice is a whisper, lost in the wind. The pain twists tighter, a promise burning in my heart. My knees buckle, sinking into the snow, the cold biting through my dress, but nothing compared to the ache clawing at my chest. “I’m so sorry for everything. Oh, Dad,” the tears spill, hot and relentless. The cold ground bites into my knees, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my chest. The scent of marigolds is sweet and sharp. It fills my nose, mingling with the salt of my tears.

Believing is unimaginable, hurt being the main inclination consuming my psyche. My tears resemble little ice pellets, trickling down my cheeks as I squirm about. Yet again an all-too-natural feeling of destruction approaches upon me, entering through the fire and ice. I'm a waste of time. Yet again demise is here pausing. For what reason does he appear to need me so gravely? Then, a sprinkle of a mitigating substance hits my tongue, descending my throat like liquefied chocolate. All peacefulness it brings vanquishes, detonating in my stomach like firecrackers, just highlighting my torment. What kind of medication is this? It just compounds the situation.

My shoulders sag; ache drips through me again like slow tar. Alcohol. I need something stronger than remorse. I stalk to Yemaya’s prized bar cart—gold-framed, usually groaning with bottles she snaffles from grateful clients. Tonight: a sad quarter-bottle of Whispering Angel rosé hiding behind pickled olives and an ancient bottle of Angostura bitters. “Seriously?” I mutter, rattling shelves as though booze might magically respawn. Cupboards: nothing. Fridge: tonic water and kale. The universe is mocking me.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * You are the trouble I'm in * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Jax carried on further and Zara could feel her cheeks heat up by their closeness and the intense stare with which Jax looked at his mate. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * You are you are, my favorite medicine You are you are, you're where the edge began * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

This darkness has me trapped in it where no one could reach and drag me out of it, it has consumed me but I hope someday I will make it out of this darkness. The pain and agony aren't sharp like needlepoint or a knife but burn around my innards better than boiling water. Everything feels scalded and, move or not, I'm in more pain than I could have ever imagined was possible. A bullet would be mercy right now but an increase in the sickly morphine is the best I can hope for and I turned this into anger, wanted revenge, and sought for it badly.

My ribs feel cracked from the inside, each heartbeat a reminder that I'm still alive while others aren't. Clambering out of bed, I stumble toward the bathroom and yank open the medicine cabinet. Dr. Szabó's sedatives rattle in their prescription bottle— little white pills that promise peace but deliver only temporary numbness. I swallow two, then another pair for good measure. But chemicals can't shake the mind-numbing grief. I've lost two children now. And Tamara— the woman who means more to me than she should, more than is safe— fights for her life in a sterile hospital room while infection threatens to take her too.

The air seemed to shimmer with the weight of her absence, a haunting reminder of the fragility of life and the depths of despair that lurked within us all. I stumbled forward, my voice catching in my throat as I beheld the tragic sight before me. Rose, my once-lover, lay still and silent, her presence a stark reminder of the consequences of my choices. A wave of guilt washed over me, threatening to drown me in its suffocating embrace.

I needed to pull myself together in front of him, but I was wrecked. After a minute though, I forced myself to stop sobbing as I felt his thumbs drawing small soothing circles on my cheeks where he was still holding me. I didn’t need his damn soothing. I deserved every ounce of that agony. She was dead because of me. I was heavily breathing as I looked at him fiercely and whispered “Get your hands off me” He instantly let me go, as if he wasn’t even aware of his own gesture. He gets up and leaves the room. I take that time to compose myself and wipe away any traces of my tragedy from my expression.

On the day Lily's fixed-term sentence was handed down, he suddenly had a heart attack at home. Mom was weeping in the bedroom and didn't notice his condition at all. My dad soon died at home because he didn't receive treatment in time. Mom locked herself away for a whole day. When she finally came out, she saw only my dad's body on the floor. She lost all her family in a single night. Such a blow caused her to lose her mind. A lawyer came to my door with all the documents. It turned out that after learning Lily had tried to burn them to death, they had made a will in order to persuade me to return home, leaving the Jackson Group to me after their passing.

I'll love you until the day I die and every day after. Please, for the love of God, don't come back. Don't try to save me. Don't try to save us. Just live. Live well. Live happy. Live like I never existed. That's the only gift I can give you now. — Julian I read the letter three times. The words blurred and refocused. My tears spotted the paper. Then I walked downstairs to the kitchen, where Julian was making breakfast. Lily was at the table, drawing a rainbow with crayons that had escaped their box.