Who Really Am I Novels & Stories

I protested. She shook her head. "You cannot be who you are not." "Then who am I?" I pleaded, my voice trembling. I needed to know. Why can't someone just tell me. She leaned closer, her breath warm on my face. "Remember who you are. No one can tell you except you dear." she whispered.

I find myself standing at the brink of an abyss. Ready to drop in and let the darkness consume me. Do I want to find myself here? Well, at this very moment, I can say that I honestly want to. Yet, I remind myself who I am. I am Colton Cruz.

“You don’t have to be ready. Nobody ever is. But you’re not alone. I’ll help you figure this out. We’ll take it one step at a time.” His words sounded reassuring—like a promise—but I knew better. Promises didn’t fix the storm raging inside me. I had to face it myself. I had to understand what I was, and what I was capable of. I’d just glimpsed the edge of that power, and I knew deep down it was only the beginning. I closed my eyes momentarily, trying to summon some clarity. “Who am I now?” I asked myself. Am I still the same woman I was an hour ago? Or have I changed—permanently—into something else?

Maybe I was the one killing them. Maybe I still am. “Are you sure this is who I am?” I whisper, surprising myself. Eva slows, glancing at me, but doesn’t answer right away. “I think that’s something only you can answer,” she finally says. “But I believe the truth is trying to reach you. Let it.” I don’t know how.

“This isn’t real.” His lips twitched. “You want to believe that. You need to. Because if it’s real—” His voice sank quieter, almost a whisper. “Then what are you?” I froze. Because that was the question gnawing at the edges of my mind. What was I? I was breathing shallow, frantic gasps. I didn’t want to know. I just didn’t want to be anything other than who I’d been. A wolf. A warrior. A mother.

"Some months back I was human or I thought I was, then I found out I was a wolf. " I paused. "And now You're yhere telling me I'm a witch. " I shook my head. "What am I exactly? At what point does my identity just pick something and stay there? Because I'd really love to know who I am. I'd really love to know who my mother was. " My voice came out quieter than I meant it to. "And why nobody seems to want to give me a straight answer about any of it. " The words ran out and I sat in the quiet it left behind and just breathed.

I just didn't want to rely on it and wanted to earn respect with my own hands. And he had so easily believed Grace's lies. He'd destroyed my trust with his own hands. He'd even watched me get hurt and done nothing. As I was helped toward the door, I passed right by Ethan without sparing him a glance. My eyes were hollow, and only the searing pain in my hand and the cold emptiness in my chest kept me moving forward. I knew this surgery wasn't just about saving Mr. Sullivan. It was about saving myself. As an Omega werewolf healer, my hands were my dignity. I couldn't let them be destroyed.

Maybe it had taken the only version of herself she had ever known how to be, and everything since then had been an attempt—hers and other people’s—to fill the empty space. Elena sat on the edge of the bed. The exhaustion rose again, thicker now, pressing behind her eyes. She covered her face with both hands and let the silence of the room hold her for a while. “I just want to know who I am.” Her voice broke on the last word. No answer came. Only the ordinary quiet of a rented room in a city that did not care who she had been or who she might become. She stayed like that until the worst of the pressure eased, then lowered her hands and looked again at the document still resting beside her.

None of it made any sense to me. "Who am I?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. They were a raw question that came from deep inside me, from the place where all my pain and confusion lived. If everything I knew was a lie, who was I? Neomi's voice was soft but sorrowful as her eyes softened and she stepped toward me. Although you are Camila Bravona, you are more than that. In all of this, you are more than just a victim. You underestimate your strength. Camila, your true family isn't the Bravonas. They are not who you believed them to be.

I loved the way it was making me feel. "What are you afraid to lose?" He asked in soft tone which made me think of all the time I was afraid to lose something- which held little value. "Myself " I answered in a whisper. In order to shield my life from other. I happen to accept their judgement without caring for my own. "My Identity? Who am I?" I asked with uncertainty. My life has been so confusing lately that I had to question my own existence. There was a brief pause in that moment, it felt like the entire space was processing my thought and it made no sense.