The Writer...A_Awan
Bio
16‑year‑old Ayesha, high school student and storyteller. Passionate about suspense, emotions, and life lessons...
Stories (119)
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Broken Promises:. AI-Generated.
Promises areFragile matters. they are constructed on trust, carried with the aid of hope, and sealed with perception. but whilst a promise is broken, it leaves in the back of extra than unhappiness—it leaves scars that linger lengthy after the words have diminished. that is the tale of a damaged promise, and the silence that observed.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Humans
The Train That never Arrived.. AI-Generated.
The platform became crowded that nighttime. families clutched luggage, youngsters clung to their dad and mom, and carriers shouted over the noise of the crowd. anyone changed into expecting the nine:15 teach — the one that changed into supposed to carry them to safety, to opportunity, to cherished ones a ways away. however the educate never came.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Fiction
The Last Phone Call:. AI-Generated.
The cellphone rang just after midnight. A shrill sound that cut through the silence of the house. Anna reached for it, half-asleep, looking ahead to a incorrect wide variety. instead, she heard her father’s voice. It become trembling, moved quickly, and packed with worry.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Fiction
The Silent Library:. AI-Generated.
The rain have been falling all evening, tapping in competition to the tall home home windows of the antique college library. maximum college college students had already left, their footsteps fading down the marble corridors, leaving most effective silence inside the returned of. but Daniel stayed. He become decided to finish his studies paper, and the library’s limitless cabinets promised solutions.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Confessions
Escaped at Midnight... AI-Generated.
The clock struck midnight while Amal tightened the straps of her worn backpack. The room become silent except for the faint hum of the generator outside. Her mom’s eyes glistened as she whispered, “It’s time.” Amal nodded, her coronary heart pounding like a drum. this night time was the night time she would go away the entirety at the back of — her domestic, her youth, her united states — looking for freedom.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Fiction
Blooming In The Dark:. AI-Generated.
The store seemed handiest at night time. By day, the street became normal—lined with bakeries, tailors, and a pharmacy that smelled faintly of antiseptic. but when the solar dipped underneath the horizon, a slim doorway among two shuttered shops discovered itself. A signal hung above it, painted in fading gold letters: Blooming inside the dark.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Fiction
The Neighbor Who Vanished Overnight:. AI-Generated.
I had lived on Maple Street for nearly a decade, long enough to know the rhythm of the neighborhood. The morning joggers, the evening dog walkers, the occasional barbecue smoke drifting from backyards — it was a place where routine felt safe, predictable.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Confessions
The Flight That Vanished Without a Trace:. AI-Generated.
It turned into speculated to be an normal flight. On March 8, 2014, Malaysia airlines Flight MH370 took off from Kuala Lumpur, sure for Beijing. On board had been 239 humans — passengers, team, households, pals. The night time turned into calm, the skies clear. however less than an hour after takeoff, the aircraft disappeared. No distress signal, no caution, no hint.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Humans
Awake After Twelve Years: The Woman Who Returned from Silence:. AI-Generated.
Janina’s eyes fluttered open on a quiet morning in a small Polish metropolis. Her mom, who had simply finished wiping her forehead, iced over. For twelve years, Janina had been in a coma — silent, nevertheless, and unreachable. however now, she became blinking.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Psyche
I Found My Sister’s Diary After She Left:. AI-Generated.
My sister left without pronouncing good-bye. No word. No textual content. No fight. just long past. It changed into a Tuesday morning once I observed. Her bedroom door turned into open — huge open, which become unusual. She continually kept it shut, like her own little sanctuary. interior, the bed become made, the closet half-empty, and her favorite hoodie missing from the hook behind the door.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Confessions
The Last Voice Mail My Father Left me:. AI-Generated.
I hadn’t spoken to my father in fourteen months. It wasn’t a fight, exactly. just a gradual unraveling. overlooked calls. Unanswered texts. A birthday forgotten. He was constantly remote, however after mom died, he have become a shadow. i ended trying. He stopped showing up.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Confessions
