Horror
Every Day Is Theirs: A Heart’s Tribute to Our Parents Beyond One Day
✍️ By: Umair Ali Shah Yousafzai --- 🌸 Introduction: The Problem with “One Day” In an age where love has been reduced to emojis and celebrations are confined to trending hashtags, it’s become common to see people dedicate just one day a year to their parents — usually in the form of a well-edited photo, a generic social media caption, or a short video clip. "Happy Parents’ Day!" they declare, and with that, consider their duty fulfilled. But can one day capture the essence of lifelong sacrifice? Can a Facebook status outweigh a mother’s sleepless nights? Can an Instagram reel compensate for a father’s decades of toil? The answer — spoken by the heart — is a resounding no. Parents are not a seasonal celebration. They are the soul of our lives. They do not deserve a day; they deserve our every day, our every breath, our every success, our every prayer. --- 🕊️ A Love Beyond Comprehension Parental love is not poetic — it is prophetic. The mother’s womb becomes a sanctuary before we even open our eyes. Her body breaks to give us life. Her nights shatter so our dreams can form. Her meals go cold so ours stay warm. She becomes our shadow, our comfort, our shield. And the father? He becomes the silent mountain who absorbs the storm before it reaches us. He ages behind the curtain so we can grow on stage. His shoes wear thin so ours stay new. His pockets empty so our dreams can fill. His hands become rough while ours remain soft. Such love cannot be compared. It cannot be counted, priced, or postponed. It is as eternal as the sky — silent but all-encompassing. --- 🏠 From Cradle to Grave: They Gave Us Everything The truth is simple and painful: the very people who gave us everything, we give them the least. They carried us when we were weak. They taught us to walk, to speak, to eat. They encouraged our smallest achievements and bore our greatest failures. They forgave our rebellion, our rudeness, our rejection. They kept loving even when we didn’t love back. And what did they ask for in return? Nothing — except a little time. A little respect. A little remembrance. And yet, many of us fail even in that. --- 📅 One Day is Not Enough — It’s Almost Insulting Designating one day for parents is, in many ways, an insult wrapped in sentimentality. It suggests that gratitude can be scheduled, that love can be timed, that sacrifice can be acknowledged only when it's convenient. Do parents love only once a year? Do they support us only on Sundays? Do they pray for us only during exam season? No. Their love is relentless, their loyalty unconditional, their prayers eternal. Then how dare we give them just a day? --- 🕯️ Real-Life Reflections: Forgotten Candles of Our Lives Visit an old age home and you will see forgotten candles flickering dimly, waiting for someone to relight their flames. Mothers who once carried their children now carry loneliness. Fathers who once stood tall now sit silently by windows, hoping someone might knock on the door. "I gave him everything," says one mother, staring into her fading memories. "And now he sends money, but not himself." What do we owe them? Not riches. Not luxury. We owe them presence. We owe them honor. We owe them time. And if we fail to pay that debt in life, we will spend the rest of our lives repaying it in guilt. --- 🌙 The Islamic Perspective: A Duty, Not a Favor In Islam, honoring one's parents is not optional. It is second only to worshipping Allah. The Qur’an places “being good to parents” immediately after “worship none but Allah” (Surah Al-Isra, 17:23). > “And lower to them the wing of humility out of mercy and say: ‘My Lord, have mercy upon them as they brought me up [when I was] small.’” — (Qur’an 17:24)
By Umair Ali Shah 7 months ago in Chapters
The Neon Predator: A Futuristic Serial Killer Thriller Unraveled
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By Muhammad Ahmar 8 months ago in Chapters
Her County: Finale
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 The mouth of the wooden cathedral gaped as the thick, dark oak doors parted, pulled aside of their own accord as I stood upon the threshold. I looked from the hollow, dark depths of the entrance hall, swallowing what little moonlight was cast upon my back, to the heights of the edifice, bulging and buckling under its own mighty weight, with three large and open circular shutters. Unsure, I turned around to Meabh and the others, still by the fire, watching me. Their unblinking eyes stirred a twinge of unease in my chest, but they didn't appear apprehensive, nor glowering. It was more out of fascination, as though I was about to do something extraordinary. I returned to the opening, reminding myself what was at stake, and stepped into the shallow, dim island of light.
By Conor Matthews8 months ago in Chapters
The Santa Fe Tape.
Tanner Moss wasn’t just another content creator. At 24, he was already a digital phenomenon—known for his charisma, offbeat humor, and magnetic presence that kept fans refreshing their feeds for his next viral hit. With over five million followers across platforms and brand deals stacked in his inbox, Tanner had mastered the influencer algorithm.
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A Killer in the Cloud: Unmasking the Deadly Data Breach Virus
Chapter 1: The First Whisper of Death The rain tapped a restless rhythm against the windows of Marcus Reed’s Portland office on the morning of May 26, 2025. At 38, Marcus was a cybersecurity analyst with a reputation for spotting the unseeable—patterns in the digital chaos that others missed. His desk was a fortress of monitors, coffee stains, and scribbled notes, the air thick with the hum of servers. At 10:47 a.m., a notification broke his focus: an alert from HorizonTech, a cloud giant he’d been auditing since a data breach two weeks prior. The message was curt—employee Sarah Kline, 34, found dead at home. Cause: cardiac arrest. No history of heart issues.
By Muhammad Ahmar 8 months ago in Chapters
The App That Kills: Unveiling SerenityNow’s Deadly Meditation Mystery. AI-Generated.
Chapter 1: The Whispering Trend The first whispers about SerenityNow began in late April 2025, a soft hum on the edges of social media that swelled into a roar by mid-May. It was the kind of app that seemed to materialize out of nowhere, a sleek meditation tool promising peace in a world drowning in chaos. Its interface was minimalist—soft lotus icon, muted greens, and a voice that felt like a warm hand on your shoulder. Within weeks, it had snagged 20 million downloads, its users flooding X with testimonials: “Slept like a baby!” “Best $4.99 I’ve ever spent!” Nina Patel, a 30-year-old investigative journalist with the San Francisco Chronicle, scrolled through the posts on a foggy morning, her coffee growing cold on her desk. The city outside her window buzzed with the usual hum of traffic, but something about those glowing reviews felt off, like a melody played just a hair out of tune.
By Muhammad Ahmar 8 months ago in Chapters
The Crypto Kidnap: A Blockchain Ransom Thriller Unveiled. AI-Generated.
Chapter 1: The Silent Demand At 9:17 p.m. on May 25, 2025, in a luxurious penthouse overlooking Los Angeles, billionaire tech mogul Daniel Voss received a notification on his encrypted phone. His 22-year-old daughter, Emily Voss, was missing. No ransom call came—just a blockchain smart contract posted on a dark web forum, its terms chilling: transfer 10,000 Bitcoin (worth $600 million) to a wallet address by midnight, or Emily dies. A live video feed showed her bound in a dimly lit room, a timer counting down from five hours.
By Muhammad Ahmar 8 months ago in Chapters
"Room Number 313: The Man Who Never Slept Alone"
I never believed in the supernatural. I used to laugh off ghost stories and black magic tales as leftover folklore. That was until 2019, when I spent one night—just one—in Room 313 of a guesthouse in northern India. That night changed everything I thought I knew about fear, reality, and the human soul.
By Farhan Rafid8 months ago in Chapters
The Mysterious Disappearance of 5 Influencers on a Private Island. AI-Generated.
Chapter 1: The Invitation The email arrived in their inboxes at midnight, sleek and irresistible. Five influencers—each with millions of followers on X, Instagram, and TikTok—were invited to an exclusive retreat on Isla Esmeralda, a private island off the Bahamas. The pitch was perfect: a week of luxury, sponsored by a mysterious tech startup called Lumora. Free content for their feeds, all expenses paid, and a chance to “redefine influence.” The catch? No one had heard of Lumora.
By Muhammad Ahmar 8 months ago in Chapters
Her County: Part 4
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 I had been running for some time before exhaustion overcame me. Every time I whipped around, looking behind me to the blackened woods, my eyes were haunted by the lingering imprint of those wide, hollow pupils, etched into my mind. I slowed, coming to an overgrowth, falling onto my hands and knees, laboriously heaving straining breaths. My elbows buckled with each inhale, quaking threateningly with every hot sigh, like some retching animal. My eyes stung as I forced them open, quickly realising every blink brought back that horrid face, hiding in the darkness of my eyelids. The jagged and harsh menagerie of splintered twigs, damp moss, and dirt sprinkled rocks were a hazy blur in my sight.
By Conor Matthews8 months ago in Chapters
