♋️ 24 | they/them 📚 Writer | Creator | Visionary 🌍 Building immersive worlds ✍️ Sharing writing tips and insights 💬 Always up for discussing storytelling and creativity!
♋️ 24 | they/them 📚 Writer | Creator | Visionary 🌍 Building immersive worlds ✍️ Sharing writing tips and insights 💬 Always up for discussing storytelling and creativity!
I found the journal on a rainy afternoon, hidden in the far corner of the attic. I wasn’t looking for it—just rifling through the old boxes that had been collecting dust for as long as I could remember. My mother’s things, remnants of a past she’d never really shared. The journal was tucked beneath a stack of yellowed papers; its leather cover was cracked and worn. I hesitated before picking it up...
If silence had a scent, Ethan thought it would be something like this—a strange mix of cold metal and stale air that hit him as soon as he crossed the threshold into the house. The door groaned as it swung open, the hinges long forgotten like they were too tired to protest his entry. Inside, the air felt heavy, thick with the stillness that weighed on your chest, making you hyper-aware of every so...
The sun was setting behind the jagged peaks of the distant mountains, casting long shadows over the small, dilapidated town that clung to the edge of the wilderness. The streets were empty, save for the occasional stray cat slinking through the alleys, and the air was thick with the scent of rain yet to fall.
Nadia stood at the crossroads, her hand gripping the worn leather strap of her satchel. ...
i am made entirely of flaws, stitched together by good intentions.
a patchwork of scars and faded dreams
each seam a testament to survival,
each tear a memory of battles lost and won.
my fabric is worn, edges frayed,
but it's held together by threads of kindness,
stitched with moments of trying, failing, and trying again.
the pattern is chaotic, but there’s beauty in the disorder.
don'...
When I was six, my mom used to let me sit in the front seat, even though I was way too young for it. We’d be speeding down the LA freeway, windows all the way down, the wind whipping through the car, mixing with the roar of traffic. The city blurred past in a haze of concrete and smog, and then that song came on—the one that goes, _“Live fast, die young, bad girls do it well.”_ I didn’t understand...
My city on fire, and I suppose it’s my fault. But you need to understand—it wasn’t supposed to end like this. I had a plan, a way out, and it all went up in flames, literally. There’s no one left who’ll believe me, and that’s fine, I guess. There’s just me and this burning city, and maybe it’s better this way.
You’re probably thinking, “How could you? Why would you?” And believe me, I’ve asked my...
On Halloween night, the townsfolk warned against venturing into the old graveyard, where the Midnight Bride waited. Long ago, she was abandoned at the altar, her despair twisting her into something no longer human. Those brave or foolish enough to seek her out found themselves lured by her haunting beauty, her veil hiding the hollow void where her face should be.
She whispered promises of eternal...
In the house where the walls whisper secrets,
Where the laughter of siblings echoes like a hymn,
Three souls danced to the rhythm of their truth,
But the fourth, the golden child, the shining gem,
Bore the crown of love, unearned, unasked,
A hero in the eyes of a father blinded by tradition.
They say a father’s love is unconditional,
But in our home, it came with conditions,
We were the artis...
Hush now, my darling, the day’s at its end,
Moonlight and starlight, your dreams to befriend.
Close your sweet eyes, let worries take flight,
Safe in my arms through the calm of the night.
Stars twinkle softly, a lullaby bright,
Guarding your slumber till morning’s first light.
Rest now, my darling, in peace you will be,
Cradled by whispers from the old willow tree.
Night breezes carry a melody ...