Series
Level Eight Ongoing: Hydrophobia
"Have you decided which option to go with?" Mr. Anonymous spoke out. Our reactions amused him, and I could imagine him smirking mischievously as he looked down at us, even if I couldn't put a face to his voice. That evil, devilish touch to his lips — I just knew it had to be there.
By Shyne Kamahalan4 years ago in Fiction
Searching For Sisi
Mini, a tomboyish teenager of fifteen, worked diligently, grooming her grey, Welsh pony cross mare Princess, who was tethered by halter and lead to the side of the detached garage at the bottom of a gravel driveway. Side by side, her younger sister Kate, age eight, brushed her own black Shetland pony, Prince.
By Maureen Kellar-Kirby4 years ago in Fiction
The Final Countdown
"Mars," His voice shouted out to me from a while back, but his footsteps were getting more paced, closing the large gap that was originally between us. He used the name he always called me when we were enemies when we met in high school, but a name that I started to like when I fell for him. That's not the case in the present. The name grew the same heat of anger inside from the older days, but more intense. I didn't want to listen, but I didn't have any options.
By Shyne Kamahalan4 years ago in Fiction
The Jade Ring
"Where the heck is the staircase?" I muttered under my breath, but as I should've remembered, in the dream world, there's no such thing as volume, and thus no such thing as secrets. I had every intention for it to come out calm and as a small irritation that only I would know about, but it boomed loudly across the area, enough to shake it. The thunder at the start of the storm; the one that's the most shocking, that's exactly what this was.
By Shyne Kamahalan4 years ago in Fiction
Level Three Ongoing: Necrophobia
I cradled the abandoned kitten in my arms. In fear she trembled, but she enjoyed the warmth there that she wasn't getting anywhere else, making her decision controversial. I saw myself in her, when it came to living in my own home, in a land that's so foreign and so new. We're a lot more similar than she could ever realize, little did she know.
By Shyne Kamahalan4 years ago in Fiction
Level Three: Necrophobia
"I'm so happy it's not deep enough I'd need to give you stitches, but I'm so sorry, Ell," Blake lightly grazed my chin with the tip of his finger, forcing me to look upward, "like hella sorry," he said for emphasis, nearing in a bit closer. "Like super duper fricking sorry."
By Shyne Kamahalan4 years ago in Fiction
Origins of the Queen of the Sea
Sofia colored contently at the table, immersed in her work with a gentle smile on her face. Serena assisted by working on one of Sofia’s backgrounds for her story. Sofia had made great progress on her story since the first day. Serena wasn’t sure how long Sofia planned on making her story, but the cast was rather large. The background scenes were growing in number, too. No matter what it ended up being, Sofia’s story would be fun without a doubt.
By Jessica C.4 years ago in Fiction
I Think I’m Ready!
For the past Seventeen years I have been seeing the same therapist. I know, that makes me sound demented right. But in my defense, I have only gone to see her four or five times a year. My father recommended I start seeing a therapist after my mom passed. I am a certified daddy’s girl, but when my mom died, I was only seventeen and I took it pretty hard. Cathy, my mom, was diagnosed with breast cancer, a month later she got really sick, then a week later she was dead.
By Veronica Pollard4 years ago in Fiction
Where Do I Go from Here?
Ok, I’m not crazy, but I certainly feel pretty ridiculous right now. It’s eight-fifty A.M. and I’m sitting here in the lobby of a shrink’s office, Dr. Belinda Wildwood, LMHC, to be exact. Thankfully I’m the only one here because I couldn’t stand for anyone else to be sitting here judging me right now, I’m doing enough of that myself.
By Veronica Pollard4 years ago in Fiction
Hidden In Plain Sight: Chapter 8
Artemis waved out the front window as the headlights of her mothers Subaru backed out of her driveway. Still slightly shell shocked from today’s turn of events, she sat down on the couch next to Biscuits to try to do some processing. She scratched his shoulder and Biscuits rolled onto his back so Artemis could scratch his belly. She, Artemis Verlone, was an actual enrolled student at McClaren College. She would get to write her own name on the papers she wrote now and see what the professors actually thought of them. When there were exams scheduled for the next class, instead of skipping, she would stay up late and study her notes meticulously so she could attack the tests armed with everything she had learned sneaking into classes for the last few years. Buzzing with excitement, she went and poured herself a glass of wine to try and help her settle down. Meeting with the President and answering his questions would be awkward, especially since she had some questions of her own for him now. Angela had explained the situation a bit over burnt pie and Merlot, but Artemis still had questions that needed to be answered. Why had she been accepted now? Her string of misdemeanors when she was in high school had crushed any chance of her attending McClaren after graduation. What has changed? Was Smith some love sick puppy trying to suck up to her mother? Had he pushed the envelope to get Artemis into McClaren with a scholarship to score brownie points with Angela? Was the whole thing a ploy to get her out of hiding so they could arrest her for breaking into buildings and living in this flat? She took a sip of wine and sat back down next to Biscuits, anxiety slowly seeping into her enthusiasm.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
