Tragically Beautiful Novels & Stories

'All this resentment, gloating, petty and anger are delicious to me, I don’t mind standing here enjoying the show wile bathing on these various emotions, it’s the same to those who have sun bath or relaxing in some spa'. 'sigh...But that woman! even a senseless thing like me, still enjoy her weathering beauty that is socked with blood and scars, forming a kind of tragedy yet stunning painting that is full of agony and life by her struggle to keep her little breath going subconsciously even if she show to the public her resignation in frond of death that his image I stole '.

It also scarred my life. There was one woman who captured my eye in the crowd, a woman that was so familiar. She looked at me with pity. I smiled at her. Tears fell from her face. “Don’t….cry……Psyche..” I spoke as I closed my eyes. Letting darkness consume me. I feel less sad knowing that I saw a familiar and lovely face before I died.

Chapter 31: Tragedy (Part 1) "The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives." -Albert Schweitzer ************** |Nate| The water lapped at my feet as I stood at the edge of the sea shore. The sky was dark, but the whole beach was illuminated by an ethereal glow. The warm wind whipped through my hair. The whole area seemed to be deserted and for some reason, I didn't mind at all. Everything was so serene, I'd never experienced peace like this before. Everything seemed too vivid and beautiful to be real.

I'm full with the joy of spending this weekend with this beautiful and wonderful people over here. What matters is that we all are together at last.we are " CRAZY BEAUTIFUL US"

I tore her apart, shredded the trust she gave me and burned down everything we've built together. I sit in the wreckage of my office, phone still clutched in my hand. The silence presses in, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing. Everything in this room is nothing but ruin, just like me. Losing Beatrice, it's a pain that burrows deep and eats me alive from the inside out.

I say, feeling the adrenaline dropping and exhaustion taking over my body. I took my dress off, I washed my face, I brushed my hair, got in comfy PJ and finally bed, I hit it face-first. Even my dreams were filled with Marco, with the face of people in the club, with the faces of Alexander, Valentina, everyone I have met in the past few days, it's all haunting me back.

The misery that has made me want to die, has become the most beautiful bridge for me to become the happiest Omega in this world. -- END --

I said, leaving out her question about the titties. “Quasi,” she called loudly as if I was far away from her. I knew what that meant – she demanded my full attention. “Every girl and every woman is beautiful, but the most beautiful one of all is not the one with the most attractive physical features,” she continued, as she looked at me without blinking an eye. “The most beautiful girl or woman is one whose heart is hidden from predators; one whose yes always mean yes; one who loves you not because you love her; one whose tongue doesn’t pronounce words that are hard to understand, and whose lips doesn’t feign a smile. “And, if it happens that a handsome man, a man of dignity meets this most

Thunderclouds became flocks of luminous birds. Everywhere, she felt the pulse of human emotion — joy, sorrow, rage, tenderness — flowing like a symphony without conductor or score. “This is what we are,” she said softly. “The sum of everything we’ve ever felt.” Lumen’s light rippled. We-did-not-know-beauty-could-hurt. “That’s how you know it’s real,” Sophia replied. “Beauty isn’t perfection. It’s impermanence.” The entity paused. And yet-you-endure.

But then a darker thought crept in. It wasn’t just that they were perfect. It was that the world, in all its messy, chaotic way, would never let them keep it. It was a shame, really. A beautiful, tragic shame. The world had a way of stealing these kinds of moments, didn’t it? Of turning something pure into a fleeting memory, a longing that could never quite be satisfied. My thumb hovered over the screen, unsure whether to keep scrolling or to stop, but I couldn’t look away. These images, this life—this world where Killian was happy with someone else—felt like a different reality. A reality I didn’t belong to.