Psychological

"100 before I die"- The journal of M. Content Warning.
Entry #1086 – Sunday, 6:45 AM I slept like a saint. Woke up to silence. No crows this time, just that hollow nothingness that settles over the house after a clean kill. I sat in the kitchen with my tea, watching the steam curl like breath from a dying mouth.
By E. hasan8 months ago in Fiction
Why We Romanticize Pain — and How to Stop
There’s something strangely beautiful about heartbreak in poetry. About the rain-streaked window, the sad songs on repeat, the aching diary entries written at 3 a.m.
By Irfan Ali8 months ago in Fiction
The Thought That Wasn’t Yours
It started with a whisper in her head. "Push him." It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t even angry. Just casual. Like a suggestion. A background nudge.
By F. M. Rayaan8 months ago in Fiction
The Diary of the Person Who Will Ruin You
It started with a storm. The kind of storm that makes the air hum like an old television and makes you question if something's about to go terribly wrong. Eli didn't like storms, but he liked staying inside even less. He’d always been the kind of person who walked until his thoughts quieted down.
By F. M. Rayaan8 months ago in Fiction
The People Who Were Never Born
Dr. Ethan Clarke had never believed in alternate realities. A man grounded in logic, physics, and the unyielding laws of nature. But on one quiet November evening, in the stillness of his lab in Boston, everything he believed about the universe shattered.
By F. M. Rayaan8 months ago in Fiction
The Month of June
Tomorrow is the start of the month of June, and the start of what will soon begin as one of the hottest months temperature wise and who knows even rainfall if certain weather forecasters are right.
By Mark Graham8 months ago in Fiction
My Husband Divorced Me...
Sarah’s world plunged into darkness. Her husband, Asad, the man who had once promised her eternal love, suddenly divorced her one morning without warning. His words were cold, final:
By Usama8 months ago in Fiction
The Man Comes Around
The second name on the list was David Armistice. His own name. - There was nothing remarkable about David Armistice. Except a gash beneath his left eye—a parting gift from some bar owner he brawled with.
By Paul Stewart8 months ago in Fiction
The black door to my living room
When I first moved into the old house on Ferelith Lane, I didn’t notice anything strange. It was a quiet, crooked little home, settled among yellowed trees that whispered more than rustled. The realtor had spoken too quickly and never looked me in the eyes. I assumed the price was low because of the location or the cracked foundation or the way the walls occasionally wept cold from unseen pores.
By E. hasan8 months ago in Fiction
Mind Zero
In the neon-black night of New Avalon, no one was truly alone. The Grid made sure of it. Thoughts streamed, schedules aligned, even dreams were synchronized across nodes. Every mind—tagged, tracked, tidied.
By F. M. Rayaan8 months ago in Fiction
Option B
They told us the rule was ancient. That when we turned eighteen, the Machine would present us with three doors. And we would choose. Warrior. Seer. Healer.
By F. M. Rayaan8 months ago in Fiction
The Weight of Maybe
There is a girl who sees too much. Not in the way oracles usually do—those proud-eyed prophets who stand tall on mountaintops, declaring the future like thunder. No, Syla’s curse is quieter. More suffocating.
By F. M. Rayaan8 months ago in Fiction