Psychological
Toxic People, Hidden Harm
Toxic People: Do You Know Who You Are? There's the person who may have everything going on, but they are rotting at you at the core. And the long-term effects of a toxic person can feel as harmful as poison. You may not notice this at first, but it will be drained on you, causing mental fatigue. At some moment, you will see this one that is the cause of the weight.
By Rohitha Lanka9 months ago in Fiction
A Cafeteria
Now my school did not have an outside cafeteria, but we did have an area if we wanted to go out just for some fresh air. School cafeterias places of so-called mystery meat and other culinary somewhat disasters in the name of healthy, nutritious eating. No wonder I was mainly a brown-bag person.
By Mark Graham9 months ago in Fiction
Mama ain’t raise no snitch
Mama Ain’t Raise No Snitch When loyalty runs deeper than freedom, silence becomes the ultimate test. The hallway outside the interrogation room was quiet, too quiet for a police precinct that claimed to be fighting crime around the clock. Dre sat at the metal table under a buzzing fluorescent light, eyes locked on the one-way mirror. He knew they were watching him—waiting for him to crack. But Dre had one thing drilled into his soul since childhood: You don’t talk to cops. Ever.
By Rick Brown9 months ago in Fiction
The Bone Collector’s Daughter – II: Whispers from the Crypt. Content Warning.
Part 1: The Bone Collector’s Daughter – I: The Inheritance of Shadows III: Whispers from the Crypt The days bled together after the prince’s offer. Vera wandered Blackthorn Hall like a ghost herself, her fingers trailing over the relics of her father’s obsession. The skulls seemed to watch her now, their hollow gazes heavy with secrets.
By The Lost Books - "Libri Perditi"9 months ago in Fiction
Beneath the Raven’s Wings
The Raven’s Kiss The first time I saw her, she was standing at the edge of the Wood, where the mist curled like phantom fingers around the ancient oaks. Her gown was the color of a moonless night, her lips darker than spilled wine. She did not speak—only smiled, and in that smile, I felt the weight of centuries.
By The Lost Books - "Libri Perditi"9 months ago in Fiction
The Night Everything Changed
A short story by a 16-year-old girl Mom....Mom... please open the door....[That's what my mother said to my foster mother. Since Kiriamma is alone at home, I will go to Kiriamma's house to sleep at night....(In this story, I am Sudu)..]
By Rohitha Lanka9 months ago in Fiction









