A Minute Before Death - Divya Chakraborty - Wattpad

Story cover for A Minute Before Death by DivyaChakraborty1

A Minute Before Death

DivyaChakraborty1

MGA BUMASA 37
Mga Boto 7
Mga Parte 1
Oras 8m

MGA BUMASA 37
Mga Boto 7
Mga Parte 1
Oras 8m

DivyaChakraborty1

interesting kindofdeep suddenthoughts

Hey sweet readers!
This is a short story of mine titled 'A minute before death' where i have tried to convey my thoughts and emotions regrading death in the possible ways. 
                
Death to me, feels like a romantic, yet dreadful event. Though let me tell you, That's nothing like my opinion or something i have written here. That's just a random hit of thought i tried to express on paper and then share with you graceful people. 
          Well, i keep a very personal touch in my short stories, because there's nothing fictional in them. And so, it's just me talking with you in real through my pen. Which is why pardon me if sometimes you find me running out of track (as that's what i do when i talk to people in person)
         Okay, so yaah... that's all about the description. Now, let's move towards the story.All Rights Reserved

interesting kindofdeep suddenthoughts

Table of contents

A Minute Before Death.
Sat, Jul 18, 2020

1 parte

A Minute Before Death.
Sat, Jul 18, 2020

Sign up to add A Minute Before Death to your library and receive updates

o

Mga Alituntunin ng Nilalaman

Magugustuhan mo rin ang

Echo of the Past ni KiyuMiyuu

A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.

My Possessive Vampire Boss✔️ {1} ni bjorghalla

My life was simple and easy. A bit lonely but I liked it. It wasn't until I literally crashed into the one who would change my life forever. My world got turned upside down and everything changed. And he was in the middle of it all. I realized that the girl I was doesn't exist anymore. Although my life doesn't make any sense now, I know one thing. I wasn't living until I met him. __________________ "YOU ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE!!!" He yells at me as his grips tightens around my wrist. I wince from the pain but he doesn't notice it. "He better keep his hands off you or there will be consequences, this dagger is the only thing that can kill him for good" He whispers in my ear and laughs cruelly. "What are you going to do?" I ask. My voice nearly cracks. "I'm going to kill him" He says laughing and takes up a dagger. "No, please, no" I whisper. The tears roll down my face. He throws me down to the floor, then walks out with the dagger. He slams the door shut, leaving me here all alone crying on the floor in pain. {A stunning cover made by @bitchmafia} {HIGHEST RANK #18 in vampire} {HIGHEST RANK #14 in kindness} {HIGHEST RANK #1 in secretary}

Gravity ni aimesserly

"In my 19 years of life I never really experienced anything worth telling a story about. Usually when something exciting happened to me, which was rare, I'd sum up the key parts and move on. But then I died, and I finally had a story worth talking about. Anyway, how I died isn't too exciting. Just a basic car accident. You know, icy roads, snow coming down hard, a car slides into your lane and then boom. You're standing in the street watching some guy trying to shake you alive and all you can think is, "Damn, I'm dead." Although, I'm sure you've never experienced that, or else I'd be telling you this story face to face. Anyway, that guy begging me to wake up, he's pretty important, remember him. Now, let's get to the good stuff shall we? Because in all honesty, this story isn't about me, or my death, it's about Abigail and Zac. "

Picture of You (Ink sans x Reader) ni MitsuChan25

~('w')~ first book i have many plans for it i read some of them but mostly is on a short story it seems that the other people dont have ideas for it no offence but really they say GIVE ME IDEAS/(-_-)\ that makes me sad for not seeing the ending or they are cancelling it because of their lazy ness but no worrieS I HAVE.BEEN THINKING THIS FOR 5 WEEKS AND I HAVE PLENTY OF IDEAS AND PLENTY OF EXITING PARTS AND HEHE OF COURSE ROMANCE HEHE HOPE U LIKE IT AND BTW THIS WILL BE UPDATING ONE BY ONE OK CYA -MITSU

If only... Near short story (Death Note Fanfic) ni Nears_my_boytoy

My restless mind doesn't stop to think about things before suggesting them to me, pushing my hopes up. I often have debates with myself inside my head. Good thing nobody else hears it though, otherwise I'm certain I'd get some weird stares. My mind continues to argue with me, but really, I'm just arguing with myself. Maybe he likes you. He doesn't. What about the kiss? A dare, nothing more. You love him. Sure I do, but why would he love someone like me? Do I love him? That's a good question... Wait, why am I even thinking about this stuff? This is just me talking to myself, just me shooting possibilities out there, hopes and dreams that most certainly won't come true. I have sanity to realize this, but unfortunately, the other side of me thinks otherwise. You liked kissing him. STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT!!! My heart races just at the thought. I did like kissing him. But it was only a dare. Stop reminding me about it, for god's sake! Maybe he liked it too. Probably not. Maybe he's thinking about you right now, as you are him. Ha! If only! Those last words echo in my mind. If only... If only he felt the same. Maybe he does, but I'm not about to bet my money on it. Probably not. Who would love me? If only... he did.

Finding Purpose (+18) ✔️ ni ZaynismRules

***this book contains suicidal thoughts and tendencies, may not be appropriate for younger audiences*** In which she looks for the purpose of life. Lily Carter's parents died in a car crash leaving her and Laura, girl was depressed long before her parents passed away and with all the problems turning up now, Lily felt more miserable - if that's even possible. With her journey to look for life's purpose and grab the small pinch of HOPE - which is ironically her second name -, will she finally snap at the pressure and finally end it all? or will a small light lit her darkened world of grief and loneliness? * "So you know. The little goth girl who gets bullied is indeed a mess. There's this mess in her head that eats her alive everyday isn't it? What to do now Kaden? Tell the whole neighborhood and recieve an award for taking out a crazy in this world?" I spit like vomit. His eyes warmed up as I finished, "Lily. It isn't like that" "What is it then? People stopped caring... they gave up, why aren't you?" I fought my tears. "Because I feel the need to care. Did Leigh hurt you? Did she hit you?" he finally noticed the unusual redness of my cheek. I don't like the way he told me he needed to care for me. I felt like an obligation, a responsibility that he is carrying and carrying leads to getting tired and when people gets tired, they give up. I don't want them to give up on me. But they will, so it's good not to make them care for me in the first place. "I never needed anyone. I stopped needing anyone before, why start now?" I uttered the words again. Why? There is nothing to fight for. No mama. No papa. No sister to love me. No one. So why would I waste my life and the time of others to fix what is already broken - and someone who doesn't want to be fixed? If I may add. Maybe I gave up. No, scratch that. I gave up a long time ago - when my parents died, my hope and purpose went away with them.

Short On Time [COMPLETED] ni joymoment

"I have an idea." 😊 "Oh?" 😒 "You don't sound that interested in it." 😕 "That's because I'm not." 😒 *Growls * 😠 "Fine, what is your idea." 🙄 "Well, now that you asked, I want to make a book entirely made up of short stories. Hey! Don't leave! I think it could be really fun." 😄 "You think that?" 🤔 "Well, yeah! It's like mini episodes or short movies!" ☺ "If you say so." 🙄 "Will you please just support me on this?! You might be surprised at how much fun it is." 🙃 *Sighs and gestures onward* "Alright, lead the way." 😎 "Woohoo! This will be awesome!" 🤗😄

Caged Instinct ni ashleyzirnite

Self love, Self finding, Mystery, Fantasy, Short Story I've tried, to be happy, to forget, but it's hard when there's nothing to be happy about and it's hard when it's impossible to forget. The pain stays, and I let it. Days become impossible. It's never ending. All I want is for it to stop. So I can be alone, again. It's a mystery how I can still laugh, How I can put on this act It's been a while And I forget how long I've been faking How can I become real again? How can I find me? In a dream, it's what I need, it's what I've wanted, so how do I make it, reality? How do I get out of this trap, that keeps me, From being happy.

Flower Steps ni forevea_seasons_

Something came to Gisselle, when she suddenly crashed into a car while driving, a guy was there, helping her and trying to heal her. She felt something in her hand, she could smell it. She had a flower held in her hand. "Keep it safe, you might need it for luck." The guy's voice was low and mysterious. "What for?" I said, my head felt unconscious and light headed, I felt like I don't remember anything and wanted to throw up because of being light headed. The guy hasn't respond, but I got up to the door and deciding that if I should go home or go to school in the middle of the day. A hand held my wrist, still holding the flower that was in my hand. "Not yet, I'm not done. You have a major bruise on your head, I'll get you some ice." I didn't want ice, I felt like I wanted to go home, but I stayed for a while because I don't know where had my car go or where to exit. How did I get here? What happened? Why am I here? I needed answers, but I guess I'll save it for the last.

Stories, Poems, and Dreams ni Dragonmasta126

Welcome to this little book! This is gonna be some of my better small works - poetry and short stories, for the most part, with the occasional dream that I actually end up remembering mixed in. So, sit back, relax, and prepare for a bit of angst! MINI-SERIES Some of these are differentiated by a marker in their title or, in a very particular case, through a certain sign-off. I wanted to take a sec to explain the idea behind them, and let you guys know that I'll (eventually) be publishing them as actual, proper books! Asylum: Whenever I'm in the hospital or a mental facility, I get bored and write! I thought it would be fascinating to see all the work I make in a "damaged" state collected together. Unsent Letters: If I have something to say to someone but I can't for whatever reason, I'll write a letter to the person. Maybe it's angry, or sad, or an update, or just a much-needed, long-awaited hello. And the hope is that I'll publish it and maybe, someday, someone will pick my book up off a shelf and find that letter I write to them. Would sending them a letter be more effective? Yes. But it's more fun to make it into an art project! Signed by "-A": I̷͔̬̒t̵͔̂̊ͅ'̵͇̕s̶͆͜͠ ̶̟̪͝n̴̥̉ȯ̷͎̼t̶̢̕ ̷̧̺̉̐r̵͎̄e̴̲̞͌͌a̵̲̺̓d̵̮̑͜ỳ̴̗ ̷̯̑̀y̴̟̹̐ë̸̯̱́t̴͓̍̿͜.̸̙͆̓ ̸͕͑

Magugustuhan mo rin ang

Slide 1 of 10

Echo of the Past cover

My Possessive Vampire Boss✔️ {1} cover

Picture of You (Ink sans x Reader) cover

If only... Near short story (Death Note Fanfic) cover

Finding Purpose (+18) ✔️ cover

Short On Time [COMPLETED] cover

Caged Instinct cover

Flower Steps cover

Stories, Poems, and Dreams cover

Echo of the Past

A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.

Karagdagang detalye