Vicki Lawana Trusselli
Bio
Welcome to My Portal
I am a storyteller. This is where memory meets mysticism, music, multi-media, video, paranormal, rebellion, art, and life.
I nursing, business, & journalism in college. I worked in the film & music industry in LA, CA.
Stories (333)
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The Boy Who Lost His Soul. Content Warning.
THE SEER’S RETRIEVAL: Archive 2025 "What follows is a work of Speculative Truth. Born from the analog grain of 1985 and developed in the high-definition suite of 2025, this story is a Sci-Fi frequency shift a narrative map of one mother’s journey to reclaim a lineage that the 'Hard Reality' tried to delete.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 months ago in Fiction
Upside-down Mouse
“The Broken Finger Story is not just about pain it is the comic checkpoint that softened the gloom. What started as a rupture turned into sovereign wit, reframing doom into laughter. I have now recorded it in my personal archive as a ceremony, a reminder that even pauses can ignite new passion.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 months ago in Poets
Breaking Curses of Dark Entities. Content Warning.
This flame is mine to ignite, not theirs to erase. Every curse becomes fuel, every attempt at destruction becomes witness. I stand sovereign truth over lies, care over cruelty, cadence over silence. This archive is not theirs to burn; it is mine to keep alive.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 months ago in Poets
Finding Baby Sofia. Content Warning.
Vicki created, edited, wrote this story. Vicki Lawana Trusselli The Cry They Tried to Erase This is not just a video. It is a living archive, a protest suite, a cadence of care. Baby Sofia lies on the cracked concrete floor, wrapped in pink, crying against silence. The images, the captions, the cries, and the soundtrack together form a witness that refuses erasure.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 months ago in Poets
The Old Woman and the Upside-Down World
The Old Woman and the Upside-Down World She woke late, her body heavy with illness, the kind that even makes breathing feel like labor. The holiday had passed quietly, but its ache arrived late, creeping into her morning like a shadow.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 months ago in Poets
The Gathering/The Raid
The Gathering/The Raid Workers of Pathways Part Two The concrete of the hospital steps was already seeping cold through the knees of her scrubs. The nurse had not moved since she found the bundle. She just held it held her, Baby Sofia, though she did not have a name yet tight against the warmth of her chest, shielding her from the institutional chill.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 months ago in Poets
