Psychological

The Burden
Walking alone through the dark streets, with no destination and no reason—just moving. The day begins the same way it always does now: not with purpose, but with a quiet question—what should I drink today?
By Honey Batthabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
April Fool's Ode
Rules are meant to be followed. Rules are meant to be broken. This was the schizophrenic world in which Ode had found himself.
By Katherine D. Grahamabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
If It Looks Like Shite.
"If it looks like shite, it probably is." I saw what I've seen so many times, like a bad trip. Someone taking a jug of something that looked off. Not right. But they took it all the same. Drank it down like it was mother's milk.
By Paul Stewartabout 24 hours ago in Fiction
The Walk
You can do this. You can totally do this. You made it this far. Her own steps, echoing on the encased pebbles that made up the sidewalk, were making her uneasy. Lisa clutched her hands around the stroller's handle. Her knuckles flashed white.
By Sasha Desideria day ago in Fiction
Trust, Undone
I trusted her with everything—passwords, plans, parts of myself I hid from everyone else. She learned it all, then used it when leaving paid better than loving. I didn’t chase. I sat, realizing betrayal doesn’t start with them—it starts the moment you hand someone knife.
By Aarsh Malika day ago in Fiction
She Blocked Him Everywhere… Except in His Dreams
Her profile disappeared from his screen. Their chats—years of late-night conversations, inside jokes, voice notes, and shared secrets—vanished as if they had never existed. Even the little heart emojis they exchanged seemed erased from memory. He stared at his phone that night, willing it to be a mistake. It wasn’t.
By Tawseef Aziza day ago in Fiction
Born of Water: A Life Returning Home.
They say the body knows before the mind does. They say that it all happens before birth. In the water between the softness of skin and the heartbeat of sustenance.
By River and Celia in Underland a day ago in Fiction
After the Third Step
They count without saying it. No one announces the numbers. No one marks them aloud. But the counting is there, built into the rhythm of movement, into the way people cross thresholds, approach objects, complete small, ordinary actions.
By Alain SUPPINIa day ago in Fiction
THE INVENTORY OF THE VOID:
The Great House of Carl sat atop the highest hill in the valley, a sprawling labyrinth of gilded mahogany, reinforced steel, and glass that reflected the sun so fiercely it blinded the peasants in the flats below. For generations, the Carl family didn't just live in the valley; they were the valley. They owned the stream, the air rights above the orchards, and the very shadows cast by the mountains.
By Meko James a day ago in Fiction
The Things We Do Not Do
By the time the kettle clicked off for the third time that morning, the room had already established itself as it always did. Quietly, ceremonially, as though everyone who entered had agreed to something long before arriving.
By Teena Quinn 2 days ago in Fiction
The Voice Inside the Walls
When Imran moved into the apartment, everything seemed perfect. Affordable rent. Quiet neighborhood. Clean rooms. It felt like a fresh start.
By Salman Writes2 days ago in Fiction
You Learn the Shape of Silence
The first time Mara left food on her plate, no one said anything. That was how she knew. Dinner had already ended. Chairs pushed in. Dishes stacked. The sound of the tap running in the kitchen, steady and indifferent. Everyone else had finished.
By Miss. Anonymous🌻2 days ago in Fiction