Tragic Novels & Stories

He felt completely numb. I'm sorry but we couldn't save the baby I'm sorry for your loss My baby Our baby Maheerah's sibling They couldn't save the baby The baby didn't survive the car crash Innalillah wainna ilaihi rajiun!

His eyes were steel, “Remember that tonight. You will not ruin his night with your-” “I would never do anything to ruin Marcus’s day. You know that-” Triston slammed his fist onto the table. My plate shook, my hands moving away from my food. “I don’t know that!” His voice boomed, “This isn’t a fucking game. I need his time here to be perfect.” I felt my breath being held in my chest. “You won’t ruin another thing for me.” With that, Triston stood up and left me at the table. Triston and I were like fire and ice. He burned, and I melted with him near me. I gripped the edge of the table before I stood, my legs wobbled, nearly giving out from under me-

I swipe at the tears and cover my face with my palms and sob into the comfort of my soft palms. I finally raised my head and feel a headache coming on, but I haven't finished speaking. "I hate that all these has happened and I cannot be grateful for the fact that I'm alive. On some days when the pain in my back gets so bad, I want to end it all. But I cannot, I think of when I want to be able to walk again and stand again in front of the camera. But it's so hard. So hard." She does not say a word, staying mute in all of my grief and I'm happy. I've let it all out.

she whispered, her voice low and raw. I rested my chin on her lap, ears drooping as she stared off at nothing. I couldn’t understand what had happened—why they were pulled apart, why the girl with the kind eyes and warm lap wasn’t with us now—but I knew what sadness smelled like. Makayla smelled like heartbreak. Not the loud kind. Not the kind with tears or yelling. The quiet kind. The heavy kind. The type that lingered in your chest like smoke long after the fire had gone out.

Previously, What more reason do I have to try living? You were my Ikigai and still you are. Everything was bearable just because of you. Now that my heart bleeds in the cold lone night, and you are not here to get me through it all, make it all so hard. What am I supposed to do now? Why is my life only filled with winter and darkness? Why does it have to be me? Why only me? Why doesn't the heavens want me to be happy? Knowing he doesn't want me, knowing he broke my heart I can't stop myself from loving him. I still love him. I still love him and I hate myself for that. I am so scared to die. Scared of not being able to see his face after I die.

Matteo gave me a sad smile. “Yeah, this time” he said without elaborating. “He told me he had trouble with alcohol and drugs when he was with Lisa” “Well he’s had trouble with alcohol since he was with Lisa, he had relapses every so often. He had been good since you guys got together, but this was obviously a big trigger for him.” Matteo explained. “It’s all my fault. I should have snapped out of it sooner” “No, Harper, it’s not your fault. How Gabriel choses to deal with his stress is his own fault. You are not to blame for this, do you hear me?” Matteo asked.

"No. No, I don't believe what you're saying! That's not true. Hayden De Vera is well-aware of what happened to Caitlyn and Salvador before. He wouldn't dare to repeat the same mistake his cousin had once committed!" "Oh so, it seems like you don't really know all of your cousins that much!" Greg said angrily then grabbed her arm violently. "You know about it and you love hurting us because our families are your enemies, and in any way, you always want to get even so you play dirty tricks on us!"

Just truth. “You chose the wrong side,” Elias said. Tristan bared his teeth. “So did you.” And then— The last piece of Nihareth ripped free. Tristan’s body collapsed, falling through the air, limp and lifeless. Lucian’s scream echoed from below. “ELIAS—!” Elias caught Tristan before he hit the ground. But Tristan’s eyes were already empty. A tragic enemy to the end. A wasted soul. A cruel ending. Elias exhaled slowly, softly placing Tristan down in the shattered earth.

Tristan’s shoulders sagged in sheer exhaustion, his body trembling violently as his heart shattered into a million pieces. The grief in Tristan's stomach churned with a burning, suffocating heat, feeling as though it were filled with molten lava. Just then, two older individuals rushed past them, running frantically toward the doctor inside the room. With tears streaming uncontrollably down their faces, it was tragically obvious to everyone watching that they were Nathan’s devastated parents.

It faded and flared unevenly, as if life itself were hesitant to claim him, as if the world were holding its breath. Soren gasped, the air jagged in his lungs, his fingers pressing against the wound that was no longer flesh but fractured radiance. It pulsed beneath his palm, hot and cold all at once, singing against his skin with the soundless agony of dying stars. Across from him, Travian — god of the Seventh Order, the immortal whose name had once commanded legions of angels and men alike — dropped to his knees. His divine glow, once a perfect halo, wavered and dimmed like a dying sun sinking beneath a crimson horizon. It was not weakness, but something rarer, heavier, and unnameable: grie