Young Adult
The Forest of the Forgotten
They had barely made it fifty yards from the clearing when Amnity stumbled, her canvas backpack suddenly feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds. The Glowing Imp Root pulsed inside its glass container, and with each throb, the forest around them seemed to... shift.
By Parsley Rose 5 months ago in Fiction
Convertibles
A simple walk provided maximum clarity to Hurley Knotting. Standing at six foot six with a brown complexion, he rounded his Wilmington, Delaware neighborhood. Asked if he ever played ball, he left that up to his daughter who would be graduating next year from college. She played ball. Well. It’s what landed her a scholarship. But she wanted nothing from the league. Beatrice Paige Knotting wished to help out her dad’s business. He became overwhelmed with joy when he discovered this.
By Skyler Saunders5 months ago in Fiction
Behind the velvet curtains
“No, please come in, I insist,” said Ziv, a man in his late forties, who ran his family’s enormous castle with many rooms. He lived with his maid, who felt like his mother. Rea, a Mexican actress, visited the movie set to get to know the place she was working in. She was fascinated by the long golden walls, the spacious halls, the red velvet curtains, and the pictures hung that had people who looked ethereal. Still, one shot stopped her; it was the picture of a child who had short red wavy hair, sharp but shiny eyes, and defined lips that looked as if they were drawn. His hundredth plea broke her reverie. Rea accepted Ziv’s invitation and decided to have coffee with him. They had a friendly chat, introducing themselves to each other until…
By Sham Al ahmar5 months ago in Fiction
Dragon Corps. Content Warning.
Chapter Three School passed by in a blur for Cory. He drifted from class to class, not really paying attention to what was going on, and thankfully none of the teachers bothered him. He was relieved when his final period came, because not only did it signal that school was almost over, but it was his favorite class. Cory walked in and headed towards the broken-down ’67 Chevy in the middle of the garage that served as their classroom until he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and forcibly spin him around.
By Christine St. Martin5 months ago in Fiction
The First Threads
Preface ❧ Before the keeping of time, before even the stars had learned their names, there was weaving. This tale is said to be among the oldest remembered by leaf and river, whispered by silence, carried by wind, and guarded by stone. It is not the song of gods nor of men, but the weaving that gave birth to both. Preserved in the hush of branches and the glimmer of stars, it is given here as it was first spoken:
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales5 months ago in Fiction
Unwritten on Their Graves. Content Warning.
In a cramped California apartment, eighteen-year-old Leo lived with his mother and two younger siblings, twelve year old Jasmine and eight year old Marcus. Their mother, a woman of quiet grit, had been left to raise them alone, scraping by on the meager wages of a diner job.Life had dealt her a harsh hand, and the family’s fragile balance was further shattered by Marcus’s battle with anemia. The medical bills drained what little they had, while the constant worry gnawed at them all. Leo watched his mother fight each day with unyielding determination, and though his heart burned to ease her burden, he was just a high school senior, too young, too powerless, yet aching to do more. To ease his mother’s burden, Leo had taken a part-time job at a local diner, slipping into an apron right after school while his classmates rushed off to sports or friends. Whether it was scrubbing greasy grills, bussing tables, or running orders, he did it all without complaint.The pay was barely enough to make a dent in their mounting expenses, yet Leo clung to it with quiet determination. Every shift was not only a reminder of his struggle, but also of his dream, a dream to rise above these barriers, and build a better life not just for himself, but for the people he loved most. One evening, as his mother returned from another long shift, Leo pulled her aside. His SAT results had arrived, good enough for college. Her tired face lit up with pride as she embraced him, certain her sacrifices were paying off. But Leo’s voice wavered as he confessed the catch: his scores weren’t high enough for a full scholarship, and he refused to drag the family deeper into debt. She pressed his shoulders, assuring him they would find a way and that he should focus on his future. Still, even as she smiled, Leo couldn’t ignore the worry lingering in her weary eyes. As graduation crept closer, Leo’s excitement was overshadowed by a growing weight of anxiety. The future loomed uncertain, with college slipping further from reach.
By Munawar Sheikh5 months ago in Fiction
The Cog-Boy of Aethel. AI-Generated.
The Alchemical Academy rose from Aethel's academic district like a Gothic cathedral made of metal and glass. Spires twisted skyward, crowned with aether-collectors that fed the building's vast experimental laboratories. Students in brass-buttoned coats hurried across courtyards where fountains danced with liquid mercury and crystalline trees grew in perfect geometric spirals.
By Shane D. Spear5 months ago in Fiction
The Shadow Painter
The Shadow Painter The first time Elara discovered her gift, she was only nine years old. She had been sitting cross-legged in her grandmother’s attic, where dust floated in beams of late-afternoon light and the smell of turpentine lingered. Her grandmother, once a painter of modest renown, had left behind dozens of cracked canvases and jars of half-dried paint. Most children would have found the place eerie, but to Elara, it was a sanctuary.
By Numan writes5 months ago in Fiction
Under Three Moons - Chapter 2 - The Story of Fyonai
Tomerys brooded in the back of the night school classroom. Her rune tiles lay neglected upon her desk. Alchemical Runes was never her best subject. She could never remember what symbols correlated to each element. The rest of the class was setting up their ritual stars, placing the proper occult items and runes in the spires.
By CT Idlehouse5 months ago in Fiction
Guardians And Angels | Chapter Five | Part 20
One My father stood at my bedroom door buzzing Hard as Fuck. That Friday night, when he decided to walk into my bedroom, I was still at the dance with mirror ball lights spinning across my freckles not knowing back home the robot cicadas from the fucking Jungle were screaming at him again.
By Christopher Dubbs5 months ago in Fiction
The Hidden Library
The Hidden Library Max had always loved books. His room was stacked from floor to ceiling with novels, short stories, and dusty encyclopedias he’d inherited from his grandparents. But nothing in his collection compared to the thrill of the local library—the scent of old pages, the quiet hum of readers, and the promise that somewhere, in the middle of those shelves, a story might reach out and grab him.
By Numan writes5 months ago in Fiction
