Addiction Novels & Stories

The last thing I need right now is this diminutive kid copping an attitude and getting in between me and my end goals. It makes my stomach churn to see the wheels turning inside his mind. He's considering how he can leverage his sweet sister for his own selfish gain. I try to remind myself that gambling addiction is an illness just like alcoholism or drug abuse, but it doesn't hit home because I don't believe in allowing personal weakness.

"It can also be linked to mental illness." "Are there any physical signs that someone could be obsessed?" he pressed. "Like the strange, rapid and loud thumping of the heart. The loss in concentration. Sleepless nights. Clinginess. Hallucinations," he rushed every word. My throat tightened. "I... I really don't know." He let out a heavy breath. "What is addiction?" he dropped another question. "I think addiction is a state where one is so immersed into doing something. More like a habit, totally pushing every other thing aside."

"That my point dear husband...you will get yourself killed if you continue like this!" He left his grip and turned his back on her. "It's not something I usually do Elle.... it's like an addiction which I hate with all my being. I hate being dependent on them whenever I am in stress...I hate it but can't help it" "Since when?" "I was addicted to it for a year or so when I was a teenager. Then I left it....and now a few days back....I was so stressed ...I don't know...I just...."

and on the most important day, because of his past lifestyle and FUCKING MARSH, he had missed it. Nic considered himself a sane and rational man. And under any other circumstances, he would have found a cool place in his mind...some place he could go to make the rational next step. It was that process that usually allowed him to win. It was one of the reasons he was so successful. But at this moment...no such place existed. All he felt was an intense firestorm coursing through his skin, his blood...his entire body. He fucking lost it. "GODDAMN IT!!! Motherfucker!!!" Nic yelled, as he slammed his cot into anything that could break over and over again. Everything was a blur, but he refused to

There were different cliques all paired up in school. Among the boys,we had the most popular Frank Kingston of course,the popular, wealthy, spoilt kid that everyone wanted to be friends with. I still remembered how he humiliated me in fifth grade and said I would end up being poor just like my mother, pompous, spoilt bastard.I became angry anytime I remembered what he did to me in fifth grade. I was angry for many reasons. I was angry because he insulted me and I was angry at myself because I had a huge crush on him. Well, who wouldn't. I was fat and ugly but I had feelings too and I wasn't blind not to notice that Frank Kingston was a tall handsome human with blonde, short hair and brown ey

An addiction. She was nothing but an addiction. Yet an intense addiction that has made its way in his blood, coursing through his veins and now there was no turning around. He had reached to the dead end of that addiction that despite wanting, he can't give up on that addiction. Reaching a point that he had accepted he was obsessed with her. That he has fallen into the depth of that obsession. Fallen completely. Insanely. Passionately. Desperately. And lastly, hopelessly.

"I know you have been stalking me. How long has it been going on like that? To meet your grandfather, you stoop this low, like paying those homeless people there to kill me? What? Did you plan to meet him in the morgue or graveyard?" Her back stiffened as Bash used that word. Graveyard. It triggered a memory that she had to shake away from her mind. "It's your...mental breakdown talking. It's okay. I can feel you." She lowered her gaze, not wanting Bash to see her red-rimmed eyes. Trying hard to keep her emotions at bay, she ranted, "That is normal after what happened to you in that street. People there can be violent because of poverty, unemployment, and addiction

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