family

She Left Her Voice in the Cradle
The house was never silent, though no one had lived there in thirteen years. Wind passed through its broken panes like breathing through cracked lips, and on quiet nights, neighbors whispered that they could hear someone singing lullabies—faint, soft, and unbearably sad.
By E. hasanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Hollow Box (Part-9)
Episode 9 – “The Truth Beneath” Lara sits by the window, holding their mother’s journal. Lana flips through an old family album. A torn photo falls out — a younger version of their mother and father, smiling in front of the hospital.
By StoryTimeabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Voicemail
Part I: The Phone in the Drawer It had been seven years since her mother passed, but Elena still hadn’t cleaned out the bottom drawer of the old oak dresser. The one no one else dared touch. The one filled with birthday cards, scarves that still smelled like lavender, and a dusty flip phone that hadn't been charged since the funeral.
By Majidabout a year ago in Fiction
The Touch
I sat down on a small wooden stool, feeling relieved because I had found the sweet shop I had been looking for, and there were still some sweets left for sale. I had never thought it would take me the entire summer morning to reach the shop; it was such a remote place!
By Abdul Wahababout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Text She Sent Before She Disappeared
It was 2 AM when I woke up. I couldn't tell if it was a dream that startled me awake, or simply the cold. The room was unnervingly silent, save for the steady ticking of the clock.
By Adam Collinsabout a year ago in Fiction
I Adopted a Rescue Dog. It Barks in My Dead Wife’s Voice.
The Bark That Broke My Heart The shelter volunteer hesitated before handing me the leash. "Just so you know, he’s… special."
By Wiki Rjmabout a year ago in Fiction
🥀 The Last Light
The house has been vacant for a long time. The neighbors said it was haunted. You never believed it. You came to look for your sister, who disappeared in this town three months ago. The police found nothing, the search team gave up, and even her friends stopped talking about her.
By Lucianabout a year ago in Fiction
Her Choice
In a society that forgives men for everything, why is a woman condemned for following her heart? A woman, married and bound by vows, begins to think about another man. Maybe it's emotional neglect, loneliness, or just the aching desire to feel something real again. Whatever the reason, her mind drifts toward someone else. She falls for him, and eventually, she marries him. Despite the world whispering a thousand stories into her ears, she stays firm. She chooses him, and nothing else matters.
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
Unique Condition
Unique condition There lived a landlord in a village. The landlords name was Sujan Singh. A landlord named Tajbar Singh lived far away from Sujan Singhs village. Sujan Singh and Tajbar Singh were close friends. Tajbar Singh had a son. His name was Sudeep. The day Sudeep was born, Sujan Singh came to see Sudeep. Seeing Sudeep, Sujan Singh said to Tajbar Singh Friend If a girl is born in my house, I will give my daughter for your son. After some time, a daughter was born in Sujan Singhs house. He named the daughter Kabootri.
By Nikita Angelabout a year ago in Fiction
Before the Sky Went Quiet: Part II - The Goodbye
Chapter Seven The Last Clear Day She knew the second she opened her eyes. This was her last real day. No pain. No confusion.
By Tai Songabout a year ago in Fiction
Treating Bipolar Disorder Alongside Co-Occurring Substance Use to Break the Cycle
Living with bipolar disorder is a complex and often challenging experience, and when co-occurring substance use is added to the equation, the road to recovery can feel even more overwhelming. Addressing both conditions together is not just beneficial—it is essential. By treating the underlying mental health condition and substance use disorder simultaneously, individuals are far more likely to achieve long-term stability and improved quality of life.
By HWS Wellnessabout a year ago in Fiction
THE PRICE OF HOPE
The morning sun bathed the terraced hills of the village in golden light. Fields of ripening maize stretched across the slopes, and small houses made of stone and mud dotted the landscape. The village, isolated from the bustling cities of Nepal, was quiet except for the occasional chirp of birds and the soft breeze that swept through the valley. For as long as anyone could remember, this land had been a place of toil, of simple living, and, for many, of silent despair.
By Roshan Chauhanabout a year ago in Fiction