HAADI

Joined November 2025

349 stories

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Dark Side Of Our Society

Stories (349)

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The Calculus of Joy. AI-Generated.
We are taught to chase happiness as if it were a butterfly—a fleeting, beautiful thing to be captured in a net. We are told it lies in the next promotion, the bigger house, the perfect partner, the viral post. But the truly happy people I’ve met are not chasing anything. They are building, tending, and noticing.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families
The Canon of a Thousand Lanterns. AI-Generated.
The boy was a prodigy, a flame that consumed knowledge faster than it could be provided. By ten, he had memorized the Qur'an. By fourteen, he had surpassed his teachers in logic, mathematics, and physics. His name was Abu Ali al-Husayn ibn Abdullah ibn Sina, but the world would come to know him as Avicenna. His mind was a vast, empty palace, and he was determined to fill every room.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Universe in a Mind. AI-Generated.
doctors called it a prison. A slowly hardening shell of flesh that would eventually entomb him completely. At twenty-one, Stephen Hawking was given two years to live. The diagnosis of ALS was The a death sentence, a systematic dismantling of every voluntary muscle in his body. He would lose his ability to walk, to speak, to even feed himself. The world saw a body in revolt, a tragic figure collapsing in on itself.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Taste of Remembering. AI-Generated.
In the 23rd century, sustenance was a science, not an experience. People consumed Nutri-Paks—neat, flavorless bars engineered to deliver the exact daily requirement of proteins, carbohydrates, and vitamins. Food, with its mess, its inefficiency, and its emotional baggage, had been deemed obsolete. "Sustenance is for the body, not the soul," was the official motto of the Aethel Corporation, which provided for all. The very word "food" was becoming archaic.
By HAADI2 months ago in Humans
The Blood-Dimmed Tide. AI-Generated.
The Hannigan family didn't have a history. They had a bloodline. It was a thing discussed in hushed tones at funerals, a dark, coiling root system buried deep beneath the respectable surface of their lives. They were doctors, lawyers, and architects now, but the family crest—unofficial and unspoken—was a closed fist.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families
The Boy Who Calculated Shadows. AI-Generated.
In the concrete maze of the Meridian Heights projects, eight-year-old Elias was a ghost. He was small for his age, with eyes that seemed to absorb the world rather than just see it. His mother worked two shifts, and his world was a symphony of lack—the hollow echo in the cupboard, the chill from the window that wouldn’t seal, the constant, low-grade hum of anxiety. But inside Elias’s head, there was a universe of perfect, beautiful order.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Secret City of Shoulders. AI-Generated.
When I took the job at “Sundown Gardens,” I thought I knew what to expect. I was a nursing student, eager to practice my skills. I saw the residents as a checklist of needs: medication, mobility, nutrition. They were patients, their lives reduced to a slow, gentle decline towards an inevitable end. I had no idea I was walking into a secret workshop for the soul.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families
The Last Gamer Standing: A 24-Hour PUBG Odyssey. AI-Generated.
The idea was born in the dim glow of a Discord server, a challenge whispered among digital comrades: who had the grit, the skill, the sheer endurance to be the "Last Gamer Standing"? For 17-year-old Leo, it wasn’t just a challenge; it was a calling. He would play PUBG for 24 hours straight, a marathon stream to prove his worth in the only arena that felt like it mattered.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Hungry Dog Who Waited. AI-Generated.
The town market was always loud—vendors shouting prices, children running between stalls, and the smell of roasted peanuts drifting through the air.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Man Who Sold the River . AI-Generated.
Councilman Alistair Finch was a good man. He believed this with the same fervent certainty with which he believed the sun would rise. He had entered public service two decades ago with a genuine fire in his belly, a desire to mend potholes, fund libraries, and keep the parks green for the children of Cedar Brook. He was a good man who, over the years, had become very good at telling himself very convenient stories.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
A Mother’s Heartbeat. AI-Generated.
There are many kinds of love in the world, but none as fierce, gentle, and enduring as the love of a mother for her child.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families
The Symmetry of Seven. AI-Generated.
Detective Miles Kaito hated the word "senseless." Every murder, no matter how brutal, made a twisted kind of sense to the perpetrator. But the case landing on his desk on a rain-slicked Tuesday morning was testing his conviction. The victim, a celebrated cardiac surgeon named Dr. Alistair Finch, had been found in his greenhouse. He wasn't stabbed, shot, or bludgeoned. He had been meticulously, almost surgically, poisoned by a rare oleander toxin administered through a single prick on his thumb. The scene was spotless, devoid of struggle, of rage, of anything that felt… human.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education