Rebecca Lynn Ivey
Bio
I wield words to weave tales across genres, but my heart belongs to the shadows.
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Achievements (1)
Stories (308/0)
The Seasoning of Resilience
Grandma Millie wouldn't let life's hardships steal her sparkle. Her hands, etched with the lines of a life well-lived, always held the warmth of a thousand summers. She'd endured more than anyone I knew, yet her smile remained as unyielding as the ancient oak in her backyard.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Families
From Witch to Storyteller
The sun was an intruder in my world. Its harsh glare forced me to squint, its warmth felt like an unwelcome touch. While the midday sun drove others outdoors, it pushed me inwards, seeking solace in the cool embrace of shadows. It was in the twilight hours that I thrived in. In the deepening blue, the world softened, the edges blurred. The whispers of the wind became clear, the rustle of leaves like secrets shared. I wandered my sprawling garden, a tapestry of fragrant darkness, my bare feet silent on the damp earth.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Motivation
Beyond the Wall
This story is a fictionalized account, aimed to provide a compassionate perspective on the complex realities of the Texas immigration crisis. Please note that this is a fictional story, but it's inspired by the complexities of the real-world situation: Regardless of origin, ethnicity, or language, every human being deserves the right to feel safe, to pursue their dreams, and to live a life filled with opportunity. Our fundamental right to freedom, security, and the pursuit of happiness shouldn't be dictated by our birthplace, the color of our skin, or the words we speak. We all share the same basic desires for safety and a better future, no matter where we're from or what we look like. We deserve the chance to chase those dreams and create a life of meaning. - Rebecca Ivey (author)
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Humans
The Echoes of the Midnight Caller
In the shadow of the abandoned Ferris wheel, the rusted skeleton reaching towards a perpetually grey sky, lived the legend of "The Midnight Caller." Whispered amongst teenagers, it was a story dismissed by adults as mere folly. Anyone who called a specific number at precisely midnight, it was said, would hear a chilling message from beyond the grave.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Horror
Weathering The Storms
Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside me. My hand clutched the positive pregnancy test, the two pink lines mocking me with the promise of a future that now felt impossibly bleak. I'd always dreamed of children, but not now, not with my husband deployed overseas. The joy of motherhood felt tainted by the fear of facing it alone.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Families
The Lullaby Legacy
The rain hammered a relentless rhythm on the hospice roof, mimicking the frantic beat of my heart. Beside me, tucked under threadbare blankets, lay my grandfather, Leo. His once vibrant green eyes were dimmed, his normally robust frame frail and still. Yet, his weathered hand remained clasped in mine, a testament to a love story etched in wrinkles and worn thin by time.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Families
Whispers of the Scarlet Hibiscus.
Imagine love as a vibrant tapestry of flowers, woven with threads of every color and texture. Each bloom represents a unique form of love, each bringing its own beauty and strength to the whole. There are blooms of deep crimson, rich with passionate love, woven alongside blooms of serene blue, symbolizing the tranquility of long-lasting companionship. Blooms of playful yellow intertwine with colors of gentle grey, representing the joy of youthful love and the quiet comfort of mature affection.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Humans
Humanity's Firewall - Fractured Reality
The news was abuzz with the unveiling of "Neosense," a neural implant promising augmented reality beyond imagination. Images of people experiencing vibrant worlds overlaid on their senses, tasting virtual food, feeling the caress of a digital breeze, flooded every screen. I, however, remained skeptical.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Futurism
Beyond Silence
Jim wasn't haunted by ghosts or ghouls. He wasn't chased by shadowy figures or tormented by whispers in the dark. Jim was haunted by silence. It wasn't the absence of sound, but the absence of a specific sound, a melody that had once filled his life with joy and purpose. It was the melody his wife, Sarah, used to hum while she painted.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Motivation
From Acceptance to Radiance
I clutched a chipped teacup, its cracks mirroring the fractures in my own heart. The steam danced, ephemeral wisps against the backdrop of a world that felt heavy and unforgiving. Self-love, a concept that seemed as distant as the stars, flickered tantalizingly on the edge of my awareness.
By Rebecca Lynn Ivey2 months ago in Confessions