family
The Glass Kingdom
In the kingdom of Valdoria, everything was made of glass—beautiful, fragile, and shimmering with a thousand hues in the sunlight. The glass towers rose high, their gleaming surfaces reflecting the sky like mirrors. The people lived in delicate harmony, their lives balanced like a work of art, each action and thought as precious as the crystal that surrounded them.
By Timi mayowa2 years ago in Fiction
When Life Breaks You
She cried silently in her room, it's midnight already, but her bleeding heart won't let her sleep. She tried watching funny reels and scrolling through TikTok videos, but the shadow of sadness lingered. She even switched off her phone and shut her eyes as memories of what happened earlier clouded her head.
By Muhammad Waseem 2 years ago in Fiction
The Old River Road
The Old River Road: A Journey into Darkness Old River Road had always been a place of fear after nightfall. The rumors never stopped—whispers about kidnappings, strange disappearances, and something sinister lurking in the dark. The silence of the road was suffocating, like it swallowed up all sound. It was as if anyone brave—or foolish—enough to walk it would be at the mercy of something far worse than they could imagine. That evening, around 8 pm, Tommy and I were making our way home. Our friend Thomas had begged us to stay the night at his house, advising us to leave in the morning for our safety. "It’s safer," he had warned, but Tommy was quick to dismiss his advice, insisting that we’d be fine. We had walked that road countless times before. Still, as we stepped into the darkness, a sense of unease gnawed at me, one I couldn’t shake. The road stretched out in front of us, flanked by half-finished buildings and thick, looming bushes. I had walked this path many times, but tonight felt different. It wasn’t just the deepening night—it was the air. It felt too still, too heavy, as though the world itself was holding its breath. "Quiet, isn’t it?" Tommy’s voice broke through the silence, but there was a sharpness in it I hadn’t heard before. I nodded, though I didn’t say anything. We kept walking, our footsteps echoing in the stillness. The further we went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became, as if the road itself was alive, squeezing tighter with each step. Suddenly, from the bushes, a faint rustling sound broke through the silence. My heart skipped a beat. "Did you hear that?" I asked, glancing nervously at Tommy. He smirked, a strange and unsettling grin. "Relax," he said with a calmness that felt too forced. "It’s just the wind." But I wasn’t so sure. Something was off tonight—something more dangerous than the tales of the road could explain. My eyes flickered toward the dark windows of the unfinished buildings. They seemed to be watching, waiting. "Maybe Thomas was right," I muttered under my breath. Tommy chuckled lowly. "He’s always overreacting," he said, his smile widening. But there was something colder about that smile, something unsettling. A chill ran down my spine. I quickened my pace, eager to get home, but the rustling returned, louder this time, closer, like someone—or something—was watching us. I froze. "Tommy, did you hear that?" He stopped, but instead of looking concerned, his face turned dark. His eyes glinted with an expression I couldn’t quite place. "It’s time you knew the truth," he said in a low voice, almost a whisper. "What do you mean?" My heart raced, dread creeping up my throat. Tommy turned fully to face me now, his earlier smirk replaced by something far colder, far more calculated. "This road isn’t dangerous because of the rumors, or the kidnappings, or the disappearances," he said slowly. "It’s dangerous because I made it that way." I stared at him, speechless. "What are you talking about?" "I control this road," he said, his voice chillingly calm. "The disappearances, the fear, the stories—they all started with me. This road is my domain. My playground." I stumbled backward, my mind struggling to comprehend his words. "That’s impossible." "Oh, but it’s not," Tommy said, taking a step closer. His eyes gleamed with something dark. "You’ve passed through here many times, but tonight is different. Tonight, you’re not just passing through." Panic surged within me. "What do you mean? Why—?" Before I could finish, the air around us seemed to change. It grew colder, darker. Shadows crawled out from the bushes, twisting unnaturally, as if they were responding to Tommy’s every word. My breath caught in my throat. "You see," Tommy continued, his voice smooth and steady, "the road answers to me. It takes whatever I want it to take and lets go of whatever I choose. It’s been mine for years. I’m the reason no one comes here after dark." I took another step back, my legs trembling beneath me. "Why are you telling me this?" Tommy’s smile was icy, and it sent a wave of terror through me. "Because tonight, I’m done hiding. And, unfortunately for you, you’re not leaving." The shadows around us pulsed with his words, closing in like a living, breathing entity. I stumbled backward, but it was too late. The darkness closed in on me, and the last thing I saw was Tommy’s cold, victorious smile. He had been the real danger all along. The road had never just been a road. It was Tommy’s. And tonight, it had claimed me too.
By Muhammad Waseem 2 years ago in Fiction
The Tide Pilots' Voyage: Where Water Meets Sky
The morning was shrouded in a heavy mist, the kind that clung to the waves and blurred the horizon into a seamless canvas of gray. Captain Elias Reed stood at the helm of the Horizon Caller, his seasoned hands gripping the wheel as the tide whispered against the ship's hull. This was not an ordinary journey; it was the flight of the Tide Pilots—a select group of sailors tasked with navigating treacherous waters where the tides and winds ruled supreme. Today, their mission was to guide an untested vessel, the Waveborn Star, through the perilous Straits of Solara, a channel infamous for its unpredictable currents and volatile winds.
By Kevin Richard 2 years ago in Fiction
The Silent Struggles of a Teacher’s Heart
In the quiet, unassuming town of Mardan, surrounded by gentle hills and fields of golden wheat, there lived a family woven together by the fabric of struggle and hope. The air was filled with the scent of fresh grass and aged wood as the sun set, casting a warm glow over the weathered house at the town's edge. This was the home of the Khan family—Zubair, the detached English teacher, his wife Samina, a dedicated schoolteacher, and their five children: three daughters and two sons.
By Sazia Afreen Sumi2 years ago in Fiction
Changes Taking Place
I waited with Mario and Anya in the car while Fig checked on Georgio who was still recovering in his hospital room. It was a quick visit, just so Fig could let Uncle Georgio know that she loved him and wasn't going to abandon him during this tough time. Though she was afraid, she knew that she'd rather sign up as his caretaker then have to think about what his life might be like at a nursing home. He still couldn't speak well enough for a conversation about how to repair the house, so she didn't bring it up yet.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman2 years ago in Fiction
Queen's Gambit
“The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished,” was a common adage among the village elders. Words that meant the kids nowadays didn’t grow up like kids back then. Rather, that is what the youth of the village thought until the warm, spring morning it actually started to run backwards.
By Callum Summers2 years ago in Fiction
