Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
A Black Book Lightly
It was becoming glaringly obvious that Adam was lost. A looming black sky stretched out into forever above. Below, the black crystalline terrain faintly glowed exposing thin channels and ridges running in every direction. Together, the land and sky drew a horizon of jagged peaks and plummeting valleys. A crunch beneath his boot sent fragments of the brittle rock skittering across the surface. He came to a halt. The last thing he remembered was opening his backpack, but he no longer remembered when that was. "Where am I?" he called out apprehensively.
By Greg Emswiler5 years ago in Psyche
What Lies Inside
There it was, the cursed cave. And to Hera’s surprise, the cliff that housed it was eerily captivating. From the entrance, it seemed like a harmless cavity and a decent place for her to take shelter from the pouring rain. She had heard tales about this cave because the ones who entered were never seen again. It was apparent that the locals were fearful of it. Still, she needed to escape the rain to avoid contracting a cold because that would prolong her journey to the village.
By Mariam Sheikh5 years ago in Psyche
How Can We Help Someone with Suicidal Thoughts?
This post is personal advice and not a professional opinion. Burnout has been worse this year for myself and others. Personally, I have self-harmed multiple times and tried to die by suicide twice and I know of four adults who have died by suicide recently. I believe we all know someone who has passed away or is suffering emotionally, besides those suffering from COVID-19.
By Eileen Davis5 years ago in Psyche
Escape Me
Outside the sealed door, a clock sings its noon lullaby. Inside the stone walls lies a body covered completely by a sheet, a bolted desk paired to a chained chair, and a flashing orange light perched in the north facing corner of the room. The light meticulously cascades the damp walls in a rotary pattern, examining every inch of its existence.
By Mason McCoy5 years ago in Psyche
The Chosen One
I reached up and touched the side of my nose and thick reddish purple blood began oozing and bubbling out again, mixed in with salty tears. The bathroom in the cheap hotel I was staying in for the night looked like a murder scene, blood had soaked into almost all the white towels that were now in a gruesome I knew that with the amount of blood I was losing that I should go to the hospital, but I was not ever going to do that again. The nurses and doctors digging into my life, looking at me with pity and whispering behind my back about what a complete coward I am. No way was I going back there. The ultimate humiliation. I held a cold cloth on my nose and winced, definitely a couple broken ribs this time. He was going to kill me. We both knew it. His rages were getting worse, he was losing more control day by day, minute by minute, I barely recognized the man I had been married to for 20 years.
By Suzanne Arden 5 years ago in Psyche
Within
Chapter 1: Unknown Journey The rain pelted the thin window panes as the night sky lit up behind the clouds. The dreadful downpour caused water to leak from the ceiling. The house was old, the type that if you were lost on a deserted road, you’d choose to keep walking instead of knocking on its door for help. Nonetheless, many had called it home, some for just a few days, and others years due to their inability to discover what lies within.
By Kali Miller-Haque5 years ago in Psyche
Yellow and Whites
She believed one of those little yellow and whites would change the tide for her as well her generations to come. If only she could win. If only those five white balls would descend with the right red one coming after. She would squirrel away single tips, change in a little mason jar, and would pick up every lost coin she stumbled upon. Because who knew? It only took a few dollars to change her story. She would buy from the grocery store, from the little convenient store on the corner, and even an app when only download guaranteed two free tickets. Right when she was on the precipice of giving up, of ridding herself of this silly dream, of this silly hope, she would hit. $2 here. $4 there. Once a $20 ticket yielded $17. A score that would drag her back down into the thick of it. She convinced herself it was innocent. Just a few bucks here, just a few bucks there. She didn’t smoke, she gave up drinking, so why couldn’t she have this one vice? One was normal and two were a problem, right? And if she won, it would all be worth it. An investment. Yes, an investment. But every loss stung. It felt as if though God, if there was one was disappointed as hell and Satan was dancing all around her. Or perhaps the other way around. Through the insistence of innocence, she could not quite shake off that damned burning sensation that would creep up her neck as she shoved those dollars into the machine, as she could not quite make eye contact with the gas station clerk every time she asked for her fix. That creeping shame to it all that she would chase away as she stuffed those small, square papers into her pocket. Yet, it always came back. All in time.
By Jess Mason5 years ago in Psyche
