When Life Sucks Novels & Stories

“First, you ruin my job by getting us fired. Then you ruin my new home by living here. What else can you ruin in my life?” “It’s no picnic for me having you here either, you idiot,” she told him, narrowing her eyes at him. “I didn’t ask for someone who goes around accusing me of things I didn’t do, moving in here and making my life miserable. And, just so you know, it wasn’t my article that got you fired. It was that your drummer and bassist couldn’t keep it in their pants! Roger, the club’s owner, didn’t appreciate his patrons being hit on by them!”

I'm the guy who can sit here, be part of their moment while wreaking hell halfway around the world, and not bat a lash. BECKY *** The pain is almost nonexistent, but my life feels like it's gone off the rails in the last few days. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that this isn't right, that I'm too far gone, but I can't seem to retrace my steps and get back on the right track. My mind is a blur and has stayed that way ever since I was picked up from the woods, and I think I might be going insane one moment and on top of the world the next.

When it was concern, I felt like it was pity, and I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. A soft sob parted my lips and I quickly turned the stove off, moving the saucepan from the still hot front burner to the back burner. “Mercy,” he called softly as I turned and dug my face into his chest. My watery voice broke as I said, “I suck! I totally fucking suck, Marcel. MIT thinks I suck. Harvard thinks I suck. I’m sucky. I. Suck.” As hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop the chuckle that erupted from the back of his throat, only making me feel worse.

Slowly, his laughter was laced with stifled sobs. I patted his head. "Hey now, no waterworks. I'm turning into an angel soon. I'll be getting wings and a halo! You should be throwing me a congratulatory party." His voice wavered, caught between a laugh and a sob. "What kind of angel goes through all this suffering..." "Doesn't matter. I wouldn't have it any other way." … [In the Next Life — April 12, 2024, 3:09 PM — I Wonder If Anyone Is Still Waiting For Me To Come Home For Dinner]

Forever. Fuck my life...

Bitter sigh! Why the hell I am I so unfortunate? Why is this shit called love so fucking unfair to me? Why does it seem like fate vowed to sentence me to misery? It seems like life has a vow to screw me until I lose my sanity! I was just getting to cloud nine, and my star was just about to shine, but now I have been ripped off my desperately anticipated glee. Life sucks! I snap to the driver poking her face at my door, yanking his hand away from my shoulder.

When they claimed it was all business, they truly meant it. A couple of weeks ago, I had lived a pretty normal life. And now, I was getting a glimpse of such a dark world. It was terrifying, but so intriguing too. I couldn’t help but be fascinated by it all. It made me feel alive in a whole different way. I wanted to know more. “Shit… that’s freaking awesome! I mean, it sucks for Cara, but still, it’s like we’re living in a movie!” I grinned in fascination.

"Money is always available if you're open to it." I roll my eyes to the ceiling and groan. "So you're one of those people. The ones who believe in the universe giving you what you need?" If that were true, the universe hates me because my life sucks. Unless I evolved in my sleep, I'm sure I still require food and water to live.

"Though as entertaining this is, the affairs of the still living are none of my concern. You'll have to speak to my opposite; Life." "So how do I find Life?" I asked, and Death shrugged, twirling his scythe as if it were a baton. "No clue. I deal with matters of death." "...you're of no help, you know that?" "I've upheld my deal, so I think I've helped way more than necessary. I'm just glad I didn't go fishing for your soul. Otherwise, I would've declined." My jaw drops at his comment, and he shrugs, fading away.

I would've done everything to save him. Now? I felt nothing. Like I was watching someone else's life play out. Maybe he saw it on my face, because he didn't stop. He rolled up his sleeve. Ugly scars ran along his arm. I recognized them instantly. They spelled my name—[Yara.] "I admit I failed you," he said, voice cracking. "But after you left, I was hurting too. That empty house—every night—I couldn't stop thinking about you. Every time I missed you, I carved your name into my arm.