The 9x Fawdi

Joined July 2025

221 stories

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Dark Science Of Society — welcome to The 9x Fawdi’s world.

Stories (221)

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The Price of the Ticket. AI-Generated.
My name is Maeve O'Connell, and I am seventeen years old. The world I knew is a ghost, receding into the mist behind the ship Liberty. It is a ghost of green fields turned black with blight, of the empty, rattling cough from the cottage next door, of my mother’s hand, cold in mine for the last time.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in History
The Ink of Liberty. AI-Generated.
The dawn of April 19th tasted of cold metal and fear. I, Eliza Carter, sixteen years old, stood at the window of my father’s house, which stood stubbornly by the Concord Road. The air, usually filled with the scent of baking bread and damp earth, was now charged with a silence that felt like a held breath.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in History
Ode to the Mango
It hangs upon the emerald bough, A captured sunset, even now. A teardrop shape of gold and red, A king of fruits, it must be said.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Poets
The Night's Gentle Hand
The day was loud and bright and long, Filled with a busy, hurried song. But now the sun has gone to rest, And night does what she does the best.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Poets
The Botanist of Forgotten Feelings
I am a botanist of feelings, Tending a most peculiar garden. I do not grow the common blooms, Of rage or joy, so free and pardon.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Poets
Harvested Moments with Granny
The best things in her house weren't stored in jars, Or kept in boxes on the highest shelves. They weren't the fragile, dusty things behind the glass,
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Poets
The Dust of a Ghost. AI-Generated.
They say everyone has a breaking point. Mine wasn't a loud, dramatic snap. It was a slow, quiet crumble, like plaster turning to dust. And it ended with me standing in Arthur Finch's study, the cold weight of his bronze bookend in my hand, and his body at my feet.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Criminal
The Cartography of Her
Her love arrived not as a storm, But as the changing of a norm. It was the dawn I hadn't known, A seed of peace that she had sown.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Poets
The Architecture of a Lie
The first lie is a tiny seed, So small you barely feel the deed. You plant it deep inside your mind, A harmless fiction, gentle, kind.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Poets
The Truth About Marriage Nobody Posts on Instagram . AI-Generated.
We’ve all seen the highlight reel: the dazzling proposal, the picturesque wedding, the matching pajamas on Christmas morning. Social media sells marriage as a destination, a final achievement of coupled bliss. But the truth, the deep and enduring magic of it, is found not in the highlight reel, but in the gritty, unphotogenic, daily choosing of each other.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Marriage
The Dark Side of Social Media Nobody Wants to Talk About. AI-Generated.
We talk about screen time. We talk about echo chambers and fake news. But we tiptoe around the deeper, more insidious damage. The conversation focuses on what social media does to our time, not what it’s doing to our souls. The dark side isn't just in the content; it's in the very architecture of these platforms, and how they are systematically altering our psychology, our relationships, and our perception of reality.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Education
The Night's Unwritten Letter
The sun has tucked itself in bed, Its warm, bright stories done and read. But now another page is turned, A lesson that the night has learned.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Poets