"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality."
"Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality." story stories
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u53rn4m3
u53rn4m3 needing prompts ASAP
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
please comment all thoughts!
positive or negative!

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality."

2019

"Tell my why, ain't nothing but a heartache.

"Tell me why, ain't nothing but a heartache. Tell me why, ain't nothing but a mistake.

"Tell me why, ain't nothing but a heartache. Tell me why, ain't nothing but a mistake. Tell me why."

His words, again hit me.

His words, again hit me. He looked so happy, singing.

His words, again hit me. He looked so happy, singing. He was sooo good, his voice so near the varying voices in the Backstreet Boys.

And this was karaoke!

And this was karaoke! Like, oh my wow!

And this was karaoke! Like, oh my wow! Okay, back to this delicious voice.

Wait... he's done singing??

He's done singing?? He's off-stage?

He's done singing?? He's off-stage? He's, in front of me?

He's done singing?? He's off-stage? There's people screaming?

He's done singing?? He's off-stage? There's people screaming? The guards are calling 9-1-1?

He's done singing?? He's off-stage? There's people screaming? The guards are calling 9-1-1? I made a threat?

He's done singing?? He's off-stage? There's people screaming? The guards are calling 9-1-1? I made a threat? I shot him because he wouldn't sing the song again?

He's done singing?? He's off-stage? There's people screaming? The guards are calling 9-1-1? I made a threat? I shot him because he wouldn't sing the song again? I...

... woke up screaming.

"No, you are not going to that ball tonight, love," my darling husband said to me, before leaning towards me and sliding his left hand underneath my back.

"No, you are not going to that ball tonight, love," my darling husband said to me, before leaning towards me and sliding his left hand underneath my back. Then he slid his other hand underneath my thighs and picked me up bridal style.

"No, you are not going to that ball tonight, love," my darling husband said to me, before leaning towards me and sliding his left hand underneath my back. Then he slid his other hand underneath my thighs and picked me up bridal style. I looked up at him as he carried me to our car.

He opened the door, easily, slid me into the passenger seat, buckled me up, all with one hand, because I was holding onto his other hand.

When he closed the door, I watched him as he slid into the driver's seat, buckled up, then started driving....

When he closed the door, I watched him as he slid into the driver's seat, buckled up, then started driving.... ..................................Off....

When he closed the door, I watched him as he slid into the driver's seat, buckled up, then started driving.... ..................................Off.... Without me.

Wait... where am I?

Where am I? Who is that?

"Hey! Sir! You in the black cloak," I scream at the man in the black cloak walking away.

"Hey! Sir! You in the black cloak," I scream at the man in the black cloak walking away. He stops and asks, "Yes, miss?"

"Hey! Sir! You in the black cloak," I scream at the man in the black cloak walking away. He stops and asks, "Yes, miss?" "Sir, please, tell me where I am," I pause, looking around, noticing my arm was bleeding, I was holding my arm, realising he, my chaperone, had left.

"Why I am bleeding, what's going on, who are you, Sir," I screamed, my body shaking, not knowing who to trust.

"Why I am bleeding, what's going on, who are you, Sir," I screamed, my body shaking, not knowing who to trust. And that I was left with strangers.

"Ma'am. You are not bleeding. It is paint on your arm," he walked up to me, lifted his gloved hand, and swiped at the blood... paint... swiped it off.

"Ma'am. You are not bleeding. It is paint on your arm," he walked up to me, lifted his gloved hand, and swiped at the blood... paint... swiped it off. He kissed my cheek.

"Ma'am. You are not bleeding. It is paint on your arm," he walked up to me, lifted his gloved hand, and swiped at the blood... paint... swiped it off. He kissed my cheek. A warm sensation amoung the cold place.

"Ma'am. You are not bleeding. It is paint on your arm," he walked up to me, lifted his gloved hand, and swiped at the blood... paint... swiped it off. He kissed my cheek. A warm sensation amoung the cold place. Then he kissed my lips slowly.

It was slow, yet the sense of passion from him startled me from this roller coaster of dreams.

I smacked my head, hard, with a book.. what book was it?

I smacked my head, hard, with a book.. what book was it? A beautiful little "Hardy Boy" book, hmm.. Tom is amazing, what was the other's name?

George? Eh... no matter... that dream was weird.

I looked up, realising that that book did it's intended job, made me forget my dreams.

I sat up. Then I looked around my bed, noticing three men surrounding me.

I sat up. Then I looked around my bed, noticing three men surrounding me. The one to my right had a microphone in his hand.

I sat up. Then I looked around my bed, noticing three men surrounding me. The one to my right had a microphone in his hand. Upon seeing me seeing him, he started singing "I Want It That Way" by Backstreet Boys.

Good voice. Just doesn't cut how- oh wait... it's so soothing.. moving on to the next.. oh that voice!

Ugh.. the man at the bottom of my bed is dressed in a suit, hot looking.... a wedding ring that matches my own... wind blown hair.. tear streaks on his face, how peculiar.

Ugh.. the man at the bottom of my bed is dressed in a suit, hot looking.... a wedding ring that matches my own... wind blown hair.. tear streaks on his face, how peculiar.

Ugh.. the man at the bottom of my bed is dressed in a suit, hot looking.... a wedding ring that matches my own... wind blown hair.. tear streaks on his face, how peculiar. Black cloak, black gloves, face hidden from view.

A fourth man walked out from my closet.

A fourth man walked out from my closet. His walk, his suit, his face, his eyes, were that of a strong, determined, and mysterious businessman.

He looked at me, and I knew instantly that he had experienced heartbreak and needed some ...... companionship..

He looked at me, and I knew instantly that he had experienced heartbreak and needed some ...... companionship.. "Ma'am," goodness! That dang deep voice.. ..

He looked at me, and I knew instantly that he had experienced heartbreak and needed some ...... companionship.. so, "Ma'am. Stop interrupting. I know that was supposed to be a thought, but sometimes thinking with your jaw on the floor doesn't help."

"Sorry, sir," I reply quietly, looking at the floor.

"Sorry, sir," I reply quietly, looking at the floor. "No apologies needed, ma'am. Look up at me," his voice was so full of command, of something that hinted at danger.

"Sorry, sir," I reply quietly, looking at the floor. "No apologies needed, ma'am. Look up at me," his voice was so full of command, of something that hinted at danger. "Ma'am. I know you are a writer. But that does not mean that you need to speak the details of this conversat-"

"But Sir! Saying it helps me to-" "I know. Help you remember. Now shut up before I hit you."

"But Sir! Saying it helps me to-" "I know. Help you remember. Now shut up before I hit you." I cowered to the back of my bed, wishing he would just leave.

"But Sir! Saying it helps me to-" "I know. Help you remember. Now shut up before I hit you." I cowered to the back of my bed, wishing he would just leave. Wishing he would say what he needed to before I lost it. He had changed his original words... that was easy to know via his facial expression changing

"Look, it's just a threat, okay," he said softly, exhaling sharply out of his mouth.

"Look, it's just a threat, okay," he said softly, exhaling sharply out of his mouth. No response.

"Look, it's just a threat, okay," he said softly, exhaling sharply out of his mouth. No response. "Okay, good. No response is what I needed." He sounded stressed.

"Anyways, your memories can be re-made again. Your dreams this past night were the beginning of your past memories. The first man you give a hug to is the one whom you wish to re-create these memories with," he finished his instructions sounding less stressed.

I looked at him and said, "What happens if I want to remember those memories, as they are?

"What happens if I want to remember those memories, as they are? Yes, I want to remember shooting the karaoke singer, yes I want to remember being thrown out of a vehicle at seventy miles per hour, yes, I want to remember the stranger raping me.

"What happens if I want to remember those memories, as they are? Yes, I want to remember shooting the karaoke singer, yes I want to remember being thrown out of a vehicle at seventy miles per hour, yes, I want to remember the stranger raping me. What happens if I want to remember that as, it. Is?"

What happens if I want to remember that as, it. Is," I asked him, feeling those memories, the wreckage the words each of those people said to me as they left. Asking why I chose them to shoot.

Asking why I chose them to shoot. Asking why I was such a screw up, to not tell them my past. Saying I had gotten my righteous reward, and that I felt good to them.

The fourth man knew my thoughts and sent the men in my memories away, then wrapping me in his arms.

The fourth man knew my thoughts and sent the men in my memories away, then wrapping me in his arms. He told me all would be okay.

Then I woke up, having to write.

Then I woke up, having to write. Knowing this wasn't a dream, but something someone was going through.

I wrote and wrote and wrote.

I wrote and wrote and wrote. I wrote more and more and more.

I wrote and wrote and wrote. I wrote more and more and more. I posted and posted and posted.

I wrote and wrote and wrote. I wrote more and more and more. I posted and posted and posted. Every single person thought it a good story.

Only one was affected.

Only one was affected. That one, met me in real life.

Only one was affected. That one, met me in real life. After stalking me for years.

Only one was affected. That one, met me in real life. After stalking me for years. They told me, that this story, this story was their story.

Now it is 2022.

This person and I are close friends.

This person and I are close friends. And more people have experienced this story or a different one with the same affect.

Loneliness. PTSD. Fear. Self-harm. Depression. Suicide. Being known as a murderer.

Loneliness. PTSD. Fear. Self-harm. Depression. Suicide. Being known as a murderer. All some of many side-affects of having this as a part of their story.

Loneliness. PTSD. Fear. Self-harm. Depression. Suicide. Being known as a murderer. All some of many side-affects of having this as a part of their story. The more emotional side, no one knows.

The more emotional side, no one knows. For few ever survive long enough to love, truly love, again.

The more emotional side, no one knows. For few ever survive long enough to love, truly love, again. None survive long enough to be truly loved, again.

Maybe you, average woman in the shadows, will show someone like this what true love is, again?

Maybe you, average woman in the shadows, will show someone like this what true love is, again? Or maybe you, the one who experienced this story, that thinks they're worthless, can start a chain reaction of caring even when going through this?

Who knows.... anyone and everyone might become a part of the chain reaction... just starts with you.

Or maybe this next person waking up to the three people that changed them in the past, waking up to them in the present. With the fourth person walking out of the closet.

Maybe they'll wake up and realise, "Hey, I can start a chain reaction."

Or they'll just wake up and become someone else's bad memory...

Surely someone knows?

Surely someone knows? Of course, someone knows!

Someone few trust, believe, or know, they know...

This Person you have to know before they make themselves known to you....

Think of it as the Grand Stalker stalking you while you are stalking them...

Then you have a relationship.

Then you have a relationship...

Then you have a relationship.... Cause you both meet each other at some point, eventually...

If you don't search for this person, PLEASE TRY TO START YOUR OWN BOMB OF COMPASSION

"Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen "I Want It That Way" by The Backstreet Boys "I'm Not Ashamed" movie, referencing chain reaction

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