Muhammad Sabeel
Bio
I write not for silence, but for the echo—where mystery lingers, hearts awaken, and every story dares to leave a mark
Stories (306)
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The Library Only Opens for the Brokenhearted—And I Had the Key
Prologue: The Book That Wasn’t There Yesterday I first found it on a night I wasn’t supposed to be out. My face was still wet from crying, my hands shaking from what I’d just done—what he had just said. A breakup isn’t always an explosion. Sometimes it’s a slow collapsing of the world. And mine had caved in quietly at a park bench beneath a sky that didn’t care.
By Muhammad Sabeel7 months ago in Horror
The Room I Rented Came with One Rule: Never Look in the Mirror After Midnight
It was supposed to be temporary. After a rough breakup, a dead-end job, and a bank account that looked more like a cruel joke, I needed a fresh start. Somewhere cheap, quiet, and far from anyone who knew my name. So when I stumbled upon an ad online for a fully furnished room at an unbelievable price, I barely blinked.
By Muhammad Sabeel7 months ago in Fiction
The Book That Made Me Forgive My Inner Child
I used to believe that survival was the same as living. That moving forward—day after day, year after year—meant I had healed. But I hadn’t. I had merely become good at pretending. Pretending that the past was over. That I had grown beyond the tears of a child who only wanted to be heard. That I was strong.
By Muhammad Sabeel7 months ago in BookClub
When Trauma Isn’t a Chapter—It’s the Whole Book
The Call to Adventure I don’t remember the exact moment my silence began. Maybe it was when I was six and my father left without saying goodbye. Or maybe it was later, when I realized my mother cried every night but smiled every morning like nothing was broken. Or maybe it was just me—quiet by nature, invisible by choice.
By Muhammad Sabeel7 months ago in Interview
Growing Up with a Parent in Prison
When I was seven, my dad stopped coming home. There was no explanation that made sense at the time. One day he was there, sitting on the worn couch with his usual cup of tea and half-smile, and the next, he was just... gone.
By Muhammad Sabeel7 months ago in Families
The Secret Life of a Freelance Writer: What No One Tells You
It starts with a laptop. And a lot of silence. At first glance, the freelance writing life seems romantic. You imagine sunlit cafés, flexible hours, and writing words that change lives—or at least earn applause. But no one tells you about the quiet panic between assignments. Or the self-doubt that shows up more reliably than direct deposit.
By Muhammad Sabeel7 months ago in Futurism
My Brother's Addiction Led Him to Prison
I still remember the night my mother stopped saying his name. It was subtle—like the way you stop looking at a closed door you know won’t open. She used to say, “Where’s Alex?” with a touch of worry, like any mother would. But that night, after our neighbor found him passed out behind the dumpster of the gas station, needle still in his arm, she just said, “We can’t keep doing this,” and walked back inside.
By Muhammad Sabeel7 months ago in Criminal
I Was Catfished by Someone on the FBI's Most Wanted List
The FBI agents sitting in my living room looked exactly like you'd expect FBI agents to look—serious suits, serious expressions, and the kind of serious notebooks that make you wonder if your entire life is about to become evidence in a federal case.
By Muhammad Sabeel7 months ago in Criminal
The Courage to Start Over at 40
I was standing in my corner office on the 32nd floor, watching the city blur through rain-streaked windows, when the realization hit me like a physical blow: I had built a life that looked perfect on paper but felt completely hollow inside.
By Muhammad Sabeel7 months ago in Motivation
