Psychological

The Baby in the Break Room
At 9:00 a.m., the siren sang its polite two notes—ding, ding—and the building returned its practiced silence. Mara set her mug on the corner of her desk where the ring stain had been carefully outlined with a thin strip of tape. She’d done it on her first day, back when she thought it mattered.
By Flower InBloom9 months ago in Fiction
The Last Memory: Chapters 3
Chapter Three The day had grown long and though the conversation with Pam was a nice change of pace after being alone in the cabin, Trenton was ready to go to bed. She had plans to go out and get a job the following day so she could start saving up money for her own place, and the excitement of that alone made her ready to rest up before the big day.
By Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue9 months ago in Fiction
The Calm Before Nothing
I woke with a headache in the middle of the night in 1981, the kind that seemed to have hands and knew exactly where to press. It was a hot summer, the kind that made the curtains hang like tired flags and the air taste faintly of metal. For four weeks the thermometer had refused to sink below thirty-five degrees Celsius, even in the shade. The sky had been a relentless blue bowl without cracks.
By Dagmar Goeschick9 months ago in Fiction
The Weight of the Sky
The ceiling in the Miller household had lowered by another four inches overnight. Arthur noticed it the moment he sat up in bed. His hair, usually a defiant silver tuft, brushed against the textured drywall. He didn't mention it. He simply tilted his head at a forty-five-degree angle and shuffled toward the ensuite bathroom, already accustomed to the necessary contortions.
By Marce9 months ago in Fiction
So the World Ended... Now What? A Beginner’s Guide to Apocalyptic Survival. AI-Generated.
Let’s be honest. If you’re reading this, you’ve probably noticed things have gone sideways. Maybe it was a virus, a grid-down scenario, or something a little less... scientific. The world we knew is on pause, and the new world is chaotic, dangerous, and confusing.
By bob singh9 months ago in Fiction
The Letters In His Desk - pt. 3. Content Warning.
First period moves the way most mornings at school do—steady, predictable, almost boring in a way that usually feels comforting. Personal Finance with Mr. Frank is all about numbers that make sense and plans that stretch cleanly into the future. He writes amortization formulas across the board in tidy columns, sleeves rolled to his forearms, explaining interest accrual like it’s a story with a guaranteed ending. Marcus sits one row behind Ethan, angled just enough to keep him in view without making it obvious. He doesn’t talk. He doesn’t joke. He just stays there, solid and quiet. Ethan answers when called on, voice even, expression controlled. If there’s pressure building behind his eyes, it doesn’t show. His notes are neat. His posture is straight. Once, Marcus taps his sneaker lightly against the back of Ethan’s chair. A small check-in. Ethan taps back without turning around. I’m good. It’s the kind of silent conversation they’ve perfected.
By Ria9 months ago in Fiction
The Letters In His Desk - pt. 2. Content Warning.
Ethan stands at the bathroom mirror already dressed in dark jeans and a fitted gray pullover, the collar slightly uneven where he pulled it on too quickly and never fixed it. The fluorescent light above the sink hums softly, washing the small bathroom in a pale glare that makes everything look sharper and a little more tired than it really is. He tilts his chin up and drags the razor carefully along the uneven line of hair at the base of his neck, moving slowly and deliberately as if precision alone will keep him from messing it up. A thin streak of shaving cream clings just beneath his jaw, and he leans closer to the glass, narrowing his eyes at his reflection. He presses a little too hard and feels the faint sting of it, quickly adjusting his grip with a quiet breath through his nose. The scrape of the blade against his skin sounds louder in the morning stillness, and he focuses on that instead of the thoughts trying to crowd in.
By Ria9 months ago in Fiction
Guardian Angel
The world spun, as if in a fishbowl; the clouds raced across vast cerulean waves. A man’s striped shirt warped into a hotel towel, stretched with sweat seeping through the fibers. His crown receded into the sky, flying white follicles that resembled a seagull’s wing. The sun rose beneath, overtaking the aberrant trees: pines and conifers, oaks and mulberries, sprouting from her eyelids.
By Thomas Bryant9 months ago in Fiction
Framed. Runner-Up in Something Is Beginning, I Think Challenge.
"Girl, I know you’re a little extra sometimes, but when did you get this done?" Nara asked, walking into the kitchen where I was elbow-deep in a cardboard box, looking for some cutlery.
By Cristal S.9 months ago in Fiction
“The Library of Unlived Lives”
There is a library most people never hear of, hidden between shifting streets and alleyways that seem to appear only when you need them. They say it contains every book ever written about lives that could have been—the ones you never lived, the choices you never made, the paths you turned away from. Few have seen it and returned unchanged. I found it by accident, or perhaps by design.
By Waqid Ali 9 months ago in Fiction
If only we'd listened between the lines. Runner-Up in Everyone Is Acting Normally Challenge. Content Warning.
[August 5, 2046] Tomorrow is my first day at the new school. Ma is crying as they drop me off at my dormitory with my trunk. I know I'll never see them again after this, but it's what happens to every girl my age. Maybe the papers in the parcel will explain why she's so upset?
By Chrissy MKM9 months ago in Fiction
Failsafe: W.O.L.F
The atmosphere of Kepler-442c had turned against them on Day 0. It wasn’t dramatic. No firestorms. No lightning. Just numbers.
By Kaori Knight 9 months ago in Fiction