"It's a lose-lose situation. Only one of them is a little less lose than the other one. Your call." Twelve kingdoms. Twelve powers. Twelve lives intertwined in a dark vortex of insanity. A dark twist on different fairy tales. [contains some graphic violence/torture]
Highest Rank: #48 Your memories fade fast. Mine, grow brighter by the day. I am excited for that time When the world is finally not dark in my eyes. For the same time you wait in fear Mumbling to yourself, 'the end is near'. For what if when I can finally see you You don't remember me at all?
❝ I don't know how it happened but -- everything around us fell crashing to the ground. We found ourselves in a world where we didn't belong; we shouted and screamed until our lungs were dry and our tears were black and blue, but no one heard us. No one saved us. No one dared to fix us. Now we only have each other and...
A dialogue short story about the things we wake up to that remind us there are still things in this life worth waking up for. ante meridiem - [adv. & adj.] "before noon;" Abbr: A.M. Or a.m. [credit to owner of image (not me)]
A collection of love letters from random people to related people, exhibiting all kinds of love. Love is everywhere, in all hearts. If you are reading this story on any other platform other than Wattpad you are very likely to be at risk of a malware attack. If you wish to read this story in it's original, safe, form...
One night in Emilia collins life changed her life forever. She wanted to get away from responsibilities with her cousin for one night but it took a completely different turn. It might have happened four years back but she still keeps wondering about it as there is a constant remainder. But her life comes crashing dow...
❝S h e who uses intimacy as a way of trying to forget.❞ All rights reserved. @ o p t i c a l i t y | 2019
The stage is set. The ballerina poised. It all comes down to timing. [Noelle's end of the year/New Year oneshot contest] [#222 - Short Story] 20.05.2016- Featured
"Sometimes happiness feels like a chore." A short story chronicling the relationships (and lack thereof) of Drew; in which nights and days are spent curled up in the tear-and-food-stained sheets, with and without the warmth of another living soul, because he has lived like this and he'll probably die like this -- whet...
❝ If love is blind then he won't mind if you feel the writing of braille on my heart, for what you feel is far more important than what is visible to the eye. ❞ *** Claret does not know what love is. Her parents are only names, family is just a concept, as is the word love. She understood prejudice, because she had...
Marnie Gray is your average 17 year old girl. Good grades, great friends... except one thing is missing. Love. And Marnie was a hopeless romantic, that is until letters are being sent to her door... Love letters to be exact.
Everything remembered must be forgotten. The gods are glorious, and then they are not -- history is an ongoing clock. It trudges on.
Where do a song go once it's over? The songs that touched you deep within, do they fade away from the lack of sound? Well, I believe, if you listen with your heart than your ears, then you can hear the story in the melody echoing inside you. I believe songs are about the relationship between words and music. To me son...
It was on his way to work, between the third and fourth railway stations, that he saw them. Everyday. Highest rank: #398 in Short Story (12/5/17)
He craved warmth. Not just the warmth that came from bare skin against bare skin. He craved the warmth that came from the blood that pumped through his victim's veins. He was a murderer. He could not be loved.
Coletânea de crônicas, fragmentos, rabiscos, incompletudes, rupturas... Fragmentário brinca com as linhas entre os contos e as crônicas. Ficção? Realidade? Sonhos? Delírios? Rabiscos ingênuos, mentiras, invenções. Como captar momentos efêmeros? Textos sobre se deixar despedaçar, mas também sobre se reconstruir. Segure...
❝She was too busy to realize that he did see everything in her − too busy to realize that he still does.❞ All rights reserved @ o p t i c a l i t y | 2017
They met on the Trivandrum Mail. They rediscovered love on the Trivandrum Mail. Fourteen years have passed - they have changed. But the Trivandrum Mail hasn't.
There in those city lights, there was no her and there was no him. There was just everything and nothing and the spaces in between, like flickering lights against a never-ending, black sky. There in those city lights, there was no love and there was no hate. There was just listening and talking and understanding every...
On depression, and recovery. ❝Perhaps this is our kingdom, perhaps our crowns are the green specks of light that fall into our hair. And perhaps this is our fantasy, and perhaps we have no crowns but collars, collars that bind us to our differences and drive away the threat of being alike. Or perhaps we have both cro...
Based on Troye Sivan's Blue Neighbourhood trilogy. ❝What if we just drove away?" he asked me, hands on the railing. "Leave this blue neighbourhood?" His curls were in artful disarray. I wanted to kiss him. "Where would we go?" I asked. Lately, he'd been talking about blue neighbourhoods a lot. According to him, a b...
Under the city lights, we find five teenagers drowning. An intellectual, a poet, a self-fulfilled prophecy, an ex-cheerleader, and a ghost.
