Young Adult

The Shape of What She Didn't Say
I. Catalog She did not tell him she found his laugh too loud for restaurants. She did not correct him when he introduced her as his girlfriend to his mother, though they had been on four dates and she had not agreed to this.
By Destiny S. Harris2 months ago in Fiction
Self-Recovery
I was supposed to know better. I have never believed in this stuff before… but before me I felt a resonance emanating from that clump of crystals. Seriously? Crystals? Even as hauntingly blue and purple as these. Even with the inexplicable way they gleamed, shimmery metallic off the edges.
By Gabriel Shames2 months ago in Fiction
Nosferotu Zavi. Content Warning.
~ Nosferotu Zavi ~ Backstory Blog ~ Nosferotu - one of the most rebellious of Lord Zavi's children - once he was eight years old, he was always sneaking out at night, many rumors claimed he never slept in their small castle.
By Mel E. Furnish2 months ago in Fiction
Marshall's Observations. Runner-Up in Craft Over Catharsis Challenge.
Marshall watched seagulls and crows playing in the wind among pink-tinted cloud beds that slowly turned gray as the sun hung at the sea's horizon. He used his iPhone to focus on the reflections in the water and snapped a photo. He liked the result; it showed a butterscotch sun sitting on the water below a pink cloud, with the ferry in the foreground.
By Andrea Corwin 2 months ago in Fiction
Joseph, Doom bringer. . Content Warning.
Joseph stirred awake in a dark stone cell. He felt an eerie sense of betrayal and anguish. His memory felt hazy, and his bones ached as he moved his sore, stiff joints. He raked his mind, trying to make sense of the strange situation he’d found himself in. Why was he here? What had he done?
By Olivia Stephenson2 months ago in Fiction
Yelling for the Sheep
You think you know the story of the old-country farmer, but there’s a whole other side lost to history. In the late eighteenth century, in a small village seventy miles outside of Valladolid, Spain, there was a young man named Ramon Marin. He had just inherited a small sheep farm from his father, Antonio, who passed away seven weeks ago. His mother, Alma, had died years before, soon after he came of age.
By Gabriel Shames2 months ago in Fiction
Myth No More
Wilmington, Delaware in winter always marveled the mind of Pollard Hedrich. Wrapped in brown skin that rivaled the inside of matchbooks, his mind had always been afire. He walked with his friend Tyrell Frankman, the color of charcoal, along a field with a clear path, snow surrounding them.
By Skyler Saunders2 months ago in Fiction
Moonharbor
I sit on the cliff that hangs off of Moonharbor counting the stars. My mom is working late again like usual, and my dad passed away when I was young. After he passed I felt separate from the world. Like someone who watches the world instead of being part of it. I spend days wishing someone would sit beside me, watching the stars, just like me and my father used to. I feel the wind brush my cheek, and play with my hair. The salt of the ocean falls on my tongue, as the dark night silences all emotions. I watch the waves hit the rocks, and admire the moonlight reflecting off the water. I feel a heaviness in my chest, like a stone sitting on my ribs making it hard to breath as I sit with the stars as my only company. I notice the moon is lower than usual, that's strange but we are not too different both lonely in the dark of the night.
By Christian Sanchez2 months ago in Fiction
Colored Shoes
I was once a guy who loved bright color shoes. Give me the lime greens, and the cherry reds and the hot pinks. I'd wear them outside, I'd wear them to sleep, I'd wear them to play sports and even in my dreams.
By Christian Sanchez2 months ago in Fiction
Fires of Adversity
Kathryn, Princess of Thuirene, rose early to enjoy the sunrise in peaceful solitude. As much solitude as a member of the royal family ever got, anyway. She’d have little enough of that in the coming days, that every moment without someone demanding her attention was a gift to be savoured.
By Natasja Rose2 months ago in Fiction
The Brightness
By the time Cara reached her locker, the light had already arrived. It was rising through the floor in a slow, deliberate sheet, a pale brightness that behaved less like illumination and more like weather. Not harsh. Not blinding. Just there, pressing gently upward, filling the hallway from the ground like something patient and inevitable. It softened the edges of everything it touched. Lockers. Shoes. The thin layer of dust that never quite disappeared, no matter how often the cleaners came through.
By Emilie Turner2 months ago in Fiction
“The Girl Who Broke Willowford”
It's currently the summer of 1955 my name is James Hale, I live in the small town of Willowford. I work at my local diner, taking the same customers every day, receiving the same meals and life is good. It feels like every week repeats but nobody questions it, that's just how life is in Willowford. There’s a comfort to the routine, a rhythm to the days that never changes. People wave the same way, smile the same way, live the same way. Maybe that’s why I’ve never questioned it — Willowford feels safe, even when it feels strange.
By Christian Sanchez2 months ago in Fiction