Psychological

Schadenfreude. Content Warning.
Lazy eyes and a noose in my backpack, with no one but myself to use it on. There’s not much that goes well these days like what my sister did to me, trying to talk to her proved to be arduous.
By Caitlin Charltonabout a year ago in Fiction
Movies That Can Make You Cry.
The Power of Tears: Top Movies That Can Make You Cry There’s something undeniably cathartic about a good cry. Whether it’s the release of pent-up emotions or the way we connect to stories that mirror our own experiences, movies that make us cry serve as an emotional reset button. For many, the act of tearing up or outright sobbing in front of the screen is more than just a sign of a moving narrative; it’s a testament to the magic of cinema. In this blog, I’ll take you through a carefully curated list of films that evoke deep emotions and can make even the toughest among us shed a tear.
By Absorbing Storiesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Mystery of Adam Hunter
Their shoes weren't quiet. They squeaked against the spotless floors as the rubber soles slipped slightly against the drab, spotted, white, white ceramic tiles. It's early in the morning. Between the rattling of the medical cart's worn-out wheel and their less-than-quiet approach, nurses Johnson and Howell woke up most of A-Wing.
By Jason Ray Morton about a year ago in Fiction
The Final Letter
The old manor was surrounded by deserted fields as the sun had set. The shadows were long and dark. Dust and recollections of a time when the house had been a hive of life, laughing, and love permeated the disintegrating walls.
By MD. RAFIQUL ISLAM MURAD about a year ago in Fiction
The Winding Path of Memory
It was a Thursday. I’m almost certain it was Thursday, though it could have been Wednesday. It doesn’t really matter, I suppose. The sky was overcast, heavy with clouds that seemed to sink down toward the ground, and the wind was sharp. The leaves were crunching under my boots as I walked, though I remember they pinched my toes that day. New boots would’ve been nice, but I hadn’t found the time.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
Book Review For Verity
"Verity" by Colleen Hoover is a dark psychological thriller that explores the boundary between truth and fiction, as well as the psychological complexities of love, guilt, and manipulation. The novel is told from the perspective of Lowen Ashleigh, a struggling writer hired to complete the bestselling book series of Verity Crawford, a famous author who has been incapacitated after an accident. The story intertwines Lowen's present-day experiences in the Crawford household with the disturbing manuscript she uncovers, which reveals chilling secrets about Verity's life and her relationship with her family.
By Bobby Pattersonabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Party
The day I met Emma started like any other, but then again, my days always start the same way: a repetitive cycle of mundanity marred by the occasional oddity. This time, however, the oddity was Emma herself. I remember vividly how she appeared in the café like a burst of sunlight through a thick, gray fog.
By Eladeo Mallettabout a year ago in Fiction
The Stranger in the Mirror
In the quiet, sunlit town of Ravenwood, people went about their lives with a predictable calm. The streets were lined with charming cottages, and the rhythms of daily life were gentle. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone, and secrets were rare. But beneath the surface of this idyllic existence lay a mystery that would unravel the life of one unsuspecting resident.
By Oluseyi Sogaoluabout a year ago in Fiction
Liam's Ascent
In a small, weather-beaten town nestled between rolling hills and dense forests, lived a boy named Liam. The town, with its cracked sidewalks and rusting fences, seemed to be perpetually shrouded in a haze of gray. The people there spoke in murmurs, their voices blending with the wind that whispered through the empty streets.
By Someoneabout a year ago in Fiction
Hydra and Ruudi
Knowledge is the shrouded firefly in the abyss of the night. Her boots trace the mist of her name in the kneaded soil. Following her shape of her steps. Hoping but a breath from her. Hoping that her tongue doesn't pierce her like the arrow that wounded Hydra's heart from the raging village. An enflamed Imam, privy to the secret meetings in the Wu'thu room, his daughter Ruudi, took too long to perform. Hydra like then was tracing her valleys in the sand and found zum-zum. Except now, she is tracing her footsteps to forgotten whispers under the stars. Their hungry lips breaking fast with a blissful kiss. Distant memories. She remembered when her mother and her went to Ruudi's arranged engagement to a doctor and noble. "Look up Ruudi! Show your face!" family said as Hydra watched them shift and adjust her like a ragdoll. Casual pats on the very senior fiancé's back congratulating him. This, Hydra could not bare. Fury burned a hole in her chest. Seasoning in the longing to sever him from nape to member. Food came and music filled the room with shoulder shaking aunties and chest bumping uncles. All complicit. Ruudi approached a now leaving Hydra in the sea of families. "Dance with me."
By Set Zekabout a year ago in Fiction
The Profound Silence: A Moment of Reflection in a Noisy World. AI-Generated.
In a world buzzing with constant noise and conversations, the moment of silence stood out like an oasis in the middle of a desert. It was different from any other moment, carrying within it a strange stillness. The winds ceased their blowing, the sea calmed as if it were a perfect mirror, and even the usual birdsong faded away, as if nature itself agreed to be silent.
By Tamer salehabout a year ago in Fiction
The Light Not Forgotten
My evening walk is later than usual today. I like to watch the bats swooping down after their meals, which reminds me that I haven’t had anything today. Nobody is out tonight, and the autumn air is redolent of vanilla and decay. As I walk along the sidewalk, the blades of dying grass are humming and whispering. This reassures me all is well these many years. I have never missed a day.
By Barb Dukemanabout a year ago in Fiction