Story cover for Found by luluzic
Found
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    Parts 12
  • WpHistory
    Time 1 hour, 1 minute
  • WpView
    Reads 608
  • WpVote
    Votes 20
  • WpPart
    Parts 12
  • WpHistory
    Time 1 hour, 1 minute
Complete, First published May 04, 2015
The world is a cruel place. For some people, they love to live in this happy, forgiving, earth. But, the others who aren't so lucky, want to do anything and everything to escape it's unjust ways. To live in another world, a world of peace, of kindness. They say that the best people are the ones who get hurt the most. I am one of them. I hate the way that everyone is so happy in this earth, the way that they can live a good and cheerful life, when I am stuck with the dark depths of depression. In my world, I lacked happiness, friendship, and love. But, something changed.
No, someone changed 
everything. He changed the way I looked at the world. He changed the way I wake up in the morning.
And he gave me those three things that I lacked the most.
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Is it too late to say Sorry? by iambellissima_nishaz
38 parts Complete Mature
"The fuck you are leaving me." His roar cracked through the hall like lightning. Ara didn't blink. She stood there, calm as death, done to her core. No tears. No tremble. Just a weary exhale as she turned her back on him - the one thing he never thought she'd do. Before she could take a step, his hand shot out, gripping her arm like he was holding on to life itself. "Where are you going, Ara!" His command shook the pack. But she wasn't his to command. Not anymore. Ara ripped her arm free with a force that made even his wolf recoil. "Don't. Touch. Me." Her aura slammed into him, cold and merciless. "You think I'll stand here and watch you mate and breed her?" she hissed, every word a dagger. His throat bobbed. "She meant nothing." She laughed - sharp, broken, brutal. "Yeah? That's why you were fucking her in your office? Couldn't even hide the scent of your betrayal." "Ara, it was a mistake-" She stepped closer, eyes blazing. "Your mistakes come in episodes, Alpha. Season one, season two, season three. You don't make mistakes. You make choices." He swallowed hard. "I don't need her. I need you." "Lies," she spat. "Every damn sentence you breathe is a lie. I can't even look at you without feeling sick." He flinched like her words physically hit him. "That female behind you?" she pointed, not bothering to glance. "Perfect for you. Go mark her. Breed her. Hell, fuck her for all I care." Her voice cracked - but she kept going, blade steady even when bleeding. "I don't need you. Not anymore." His knees crashed to the floor. The mighty Alpha. On the ground. For her. "Ara... I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry." His voice broke like he finally understood what loss tasted like. She stared at him with a sad, devastating smile. "Isn't it too late for that, Mate?" One tear escaped - and she crushed it away with her thumb. Then she turned. Walked. Didn't look back. But he didn't chase her. Because he knew. He didn't just lose her. He wrecked her.
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I sit amidst the dingy shadows, enveloped by the stench of neglect. A week - or is it an eternity? - has passed since Declan's departure, leaving me shackled to this wretched existence. The darkness seems to suffocate me, an unrelenting shroud that wraps around my soul. My mind reels with the weight of my conscience, the crushing burden of what-ifs. If only I had listened, if only I had been wiser, if only... The torment of my thoughts rivals the agony etched on my body. Each bruise tells a story of regret, every wound a testament to my folly. Time lost all meaning in this bleak confinement. Days blend into nights, hours dissolve into an endless expanse of nothingness. I've lost count of the moments I've spent wallowing in self-loathing, my heart heavy with the weight of sorrow. My eyes, once bright and full of life, now hang limp, swollen from the deluge of tears. The Sahara desert would envy the ocean I've cried, yet the ache within me remains unquenched. The radiance that once defined me has faded, extinguished by the crushing blow of my own mistakes. In this desolate room, I'm forced to confront the shadows of my past. The silence is deafening, punctuated only by the haunting whispers of my conscience. Madness creeps in, its icy tendrils snaking through my mind, threatening to consume me whole. My reflection would be unrecognizable to those who once knew me. Sunken cheeks, hollow eyes, and skin stretched taut over brittle bones. My body, once strong and resilient, now trembles with each faint heartbeat. The frailty of my form mirrors the fragility of my spirit.
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Bright lights, the beat of the music beneath my feet. Distant chatter, quite whispers. The feeling of joy, loss, heartbreak, and loneliness surround me. Buried in a crowd, drowning under the gazes of people who look through you. I am but of glass, a mirror if you will, willing to be seen through, but not seen. Screaming in a room full of people when no one can hear you, let alone see you. Hidden breaths, rising, falling. Isn't that funny, falling? Laughing would be easier than standing here in the crowded place, filled with people, faces, judging every moment the other makes. I could tell you the peace I get standing alone in a room filled with people who only see you as a mirror for who they don't want to be. I could cry tears of blood, and non would ever so much bat an eye in my direction, but I love it. The feeling of being unseen as to appose being seen for the matieral object I once was. Silent, unmoving, unwilling. I am but an idea, glass, shatterable, broken beyond compare. But strong, resistance flows through me. Willing me to be the best I can be, but can I? Who says I make sense, who says I am even me, am I? That's a question I spent years wondering. Who would I be without these scars that tether my skin, marking each even, like a calender. To mend the feelings people have isn't a easy thing, but to break is easy, always easy. How easy it is to forget, to run. I can feel the ground beneath my feet, feel the soil in-between the crooks of my toes, I could describe to you the smell of the rain. Pinpoint the center of the earth, but as I stand here, again amongst the crowd of people stand in this room. I am lost again, an idea, but for what purpose? If I could run, navigate my way through this crowd, I would seek refuge somewhere dark and cold, where I could take off this cloak and be one with who I am, or want to be.
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"I do. I do believe you." He cuts me off. "I'm sorry for accusing you I just, I don't know. At the time I thought it made sense." "Don't apologise. I deserved your outburst guilty or not. I deserved a lot more than that." I excuse honestly. "Why do you have to make this so hard?" He groans. "Sorry?" I ask. "You. You're making this difficult." "I didn't mean-" "That right there. Quit being a gentleman. You are making it so hard to hate you right now." "I-" I get cut off by his lips on mine. His hands hold onto either side of my face as he roughly kisses me. I close my eyes and let him lead. He falls into my lap and I wrap my hand around him and hold his hips.