The steady rumble of an engine eased her awake, but the harsh vibrations of her body against an unforgiving surface jolted her back to reality. Anna’s eyes shot open to darkness. Panic spread through her veins like wildfire. Anna struggled to move, her limbs burning. A quick jerk forced her head against the floor, knocking a memory loose. An image of a man standing in the dim lighting of the parking garage flashed before her. Anna didn’t recognize the man. He was wearing a black ski mask, but his icy blue eyes pierced through her, even now in her mind.
About the Creator
Alyssa Musso
A scientist by trade, but a creative at heart. One novel in progress with too many other ideas taking up space in my head. Some of those ideas end up here.
Instagram: @alyssa.n.mussowrites
My website! https://www.alyssamusso.com/
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More stories from Alyssa Musso and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Floating
I am floating. I am floating, but not on the surface. I am floating, weightlessly suspended in the depths of the frigid ocean. The darkness surrounds me, envelops my soul. It is where I will be kept for eternity. Entombed forever in the waters of this beautiful earth. Rays of light from the heavens above shimmer around me. Wisps of my hair flow effortlessly in the current.
By Alyssa Musso3 years ago in Fiction
What Nobody Warns You About Growing Up
Nobody warns you that growing up doesn’t happen all at once. There’s no clear moment when childhood ends and adulthood begins. It sneaks up on you quietly, disguised as routine, responsibility, and small decisions that suddenly feel heavy. When we’re young, we imagine growing up as freedom. We think it means staying up late, earning money, making our own choices, and living life on our terms. Adults look powerful from the outside—confident, certain, and in control. What nobody tells you is that most adults are still figuring things out, just like you were, only with higher stakes. One of the first shocks of growing up is realizing that no one is coming to save you. As a child, there is always someone to fix things—parents, teachers, elders. A bad grade can be explained. A mistake can be forgiven easily. But as you grow older, the safety net thins. Mistakes start costing time, money, relationships, and sometimes self-respect. You learn that accountability isn’t just a word; it’s a weight you carry every day. Nobody warns you about how lonely growing up can feel. Even when surrounded by people, there’s a quiet distance that forms. Friends you once spoke to every day slowly drift away. Not because of anger or betrayal, but because life pulls everyone in different directions. Jobs, families, priorities—all rearrange your circle without asking for permission. You stop expecting people to stay forever and start appreciating those who do. Another thing no one talks about is how often you’ll doubt yourself. As a child, you dream without limits. You want to be everything at once—successful, admired, fearless. Growing up introduces comparison. You see others moving faster, earning more, achieving milestones you haven’t reached yet. Social media makes it worse, turning life into a scoreboard you never agreed to play on. You learn that confidence isn’t permanent; it’s something you rebuild again and again. Growing up also teaches you that hard work doesn’t always pay off immediately. You can do everything right and still feel stuck. Effort doesn’t guarantee results, and patience becomes one of the hardest lessons. Nobody warns you how exhausting it is to keep going when motivation fades and only discipline remains. Yet this is where growth actually happens—in the moments when quitting feels easier than continuing. Then there’s the emotional part no one prepares you for. You start seeing your parents as human beings, not just authority figures. You notice their fears, regrets, and limitations. Sometimes you understand them more; sometimes it hurts to realize they didn’t have all the answers either. Growing up often means forgiving people—not because they apologized, but because holding on to resentment is too heavy. You’re also not warned about how your definition of success changes. It stops being about applause and starts becoming about peace. A quiet mind. A stable income. A few people who genuinely care about you. You learn that happiness isn’t loud or dramatic; it’s often found in ordinary moments—coming home tired but safe, laughing at something small, sleeping without anxiety. One of the hardest truths of growing up is learning to let go. Let go of versions of yourself that no longer fit. Let go of people who can’t grow with you. Let go of timelines you once believed were fixed. This letting go feels like loss, even when it’s necessary. Nobody warns you that growth and grief often walk together. Yet, despite all this, growing up gives you something valuable—clarity. You begin to understand your boundaries. You learn when to say no without explaining yourself. You start choosing what matters instead of chasing everything. Strength stops looking like loud confidence and starts looking like quiet resilience. What nobody warns you about growing up is that it will break you in small ways—and rebuild you stronger in others. You’ll lose some innocence but gain wisdom. You’ll trade certainty for understanding. And even on days when you miss the simplicity of who you once were, you’ll realize you’re proud of who you’re becoming. Growing up isn’t about having everything figured out. It’s about learning how to keep going, even when you don’t. And maybe that’s the lesson no one warns you about—adulthood isn’t a destination. It’s a continuous act of becoming.
By Hanif Ullah 5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
I was immersed in these few words, this shows talent
Very intense, love the setting and the suspense! Well done!
Eeek! This is such an intense micro!! 👏👏 great job!
Does she know him or he a stranger. Intriguing and scary