Love
Greybridge
My name is Alden Rook. I am 17 years old and I’ve lived in Greybridge for all my life. My mom raised me all by herself along with me and my 2 siblings, and somehow made this strange city home. I'm dating a lovely girl named Mara Ellison. We’ve been dating for about 3 years now and I love her and wanna spend all my days with her. This city though isn’t a normal city, there’s rules, rules that nobody can explain but you just know like its a law. Everyone learns these rules when they turn 18, like they’re embedded in your mind. Nobody questions it, it's just how life is in Greybridge. Nobody in my family has ever been outside of Greybridge, you get the food inside the city, you go to the doctor inside the city, never outside. I’ve always wondered about what it would be like to leave this city, for something new, stretch my arms out like a falcon and fly away. I try to brush all these thoughts out of my brain, as I bike my way to Mara’s house. I turn 18 tomorrow and we planned on going to the movies and maybe grabbing a bite after, so I was ready for a fun night. I arrive at her house, as she’s sitting on the front doorstep waiting for me with her special outfit on. It’s got a certain glow that reflects off of her making her seem like an angel from heaven. “You look beautiful tonight Mara”, I tell her as she jumps into my arms with a crushing hug. Her brown eyes stare at me back and she utters a calm thank you. She hops on the back of my bike as we ride to the theater hoping to catch that new movie, before all the tickets are sold. We arrive, get our tickets, the very last two left: Lucky us, and get a drink and popcorn to share. She’s going off about how excited she is about the movie and all I can do is sit and admire her. Her dark black hair like ink flowing in the hair matched with her brown eyes light as milk chocolate. Matched with a smile that lights up this city with the energy it needs, she's perfect. We take our seats down in the theater and enjoy the movie. She's dead silent and laser focused on every scene, every character and by the end she’s going off about how good it was and all her favorite parts. I do have to agree the movie was pretty good, and I had a really fun time with her in my arms while watching. We biked down to our favorite restaurant, a little small owned business, where our first date was. We sit side by side instead of across from each other, and order our food, she gets the burger with fries and I get a cheese steak sub, my favorite from here. As we eat and enjoy the food, she tilts her head on my shoulder, her black hair spilling everywhere, and I feel at home. I feel like I could sit here all night with her and never get tired of it. Though eventually the night ends, and we go our separate ways, I drop her off leaving her with a kiss on the lips and bike home. On the way home I hear a scream, not a scared scream, a scream that echoes like your life is in danger. I rush out looking for the source and realize I rushed too far, I’ve stepped outside of the border.
By Christian Sanchez12 days ago in Fiction
Its Been One Year
It's been one year since you left me for good, one year of heartbreak. I still live here in the house by the beach, the beach you always loved going to. I remember you used to grab my hand, while we ran along this beach as the world faded around us. You were a master with the waves making it seem you had them under your control. I haven't been back to your beach since the day you left me for good, though today I ponder going back. After some time of thinking I put on my black sandals, and put on your favorite shirt of mine, the one you said made me special. As I walk out the door onto the steps down to the beach, the memories come flooding in. Every day, every night, every special moment on this beach comes back to me. I slowly pick up the sand, twist it through my fingers as it falls back to the earth. It’s still as warm and soft as it was the first day we came here though it seems it lost its golden color the day you left me for good. I lie down making the earth my bed and sit there for what seems like hours not caring what happens next, just daydreaming you were back. That's when I saw a golden necklace in the distance, it wouldn't have been enough to get me up from my bed. But this necklace was shining a special kind of gold, I just had to see it. As I get up and dust sand off my shorts and T shirt, I realize what this necklace truly is. It's the one I gave you, the day before you left me for good. It's still got our photograph embedded inside the middle, our agreed favorite one, with the words I love you like you love the waves. I can’t believe I'm holding this in my hands, this feels like some unseen dream but this is real. It's here golden as ever just like the day I first got it for you. They said your stuff was lost, though maybe you left them to the sea, the same sea I once believed you could control.
By Christian Sanchez12 days ago in Fiction
What A Clown. Top Story - January 2026.
I heard of the jokester in town. My staff was afraid to share the tales, for they knew the stories infuriated me and punishment was my expertise. I inflicted many types, and excelled at using sharp objects and heated “instruments.”
By Andrea Corwin 12 days ago in Fiction
1.The spell that turned land to darkness. Content Warning.
The spell that was supposed to save the land from the darkness killed it instead, and the sun was gone forever. At least that was what they told me when they blamed me for the death of the land. They wanted to hang me and leave me there, but the one I least expected to save me arrived at the last possible moment. The one everyone spoke of but didn’t know existed – the myth that was only spoken of in shadows.
By Minou J. Linde12 days ago in Fiction
2. The spell that turned land to darkness. Content Warning.
Blake. His name, a whisper in my mind. A single word that seemed to rattle the very essence of my beating heart. My bones turned fluid, and I could barely stand, could barely breathe. The air felt drier somehow. I needed to escape this place, but the rope bit into my skin, marring my wrists and making me bleed. I could almost taste the iron on my tongue.
By Minou J. Linde12 days ago in Fiction
The Room Holds
They always get one detail wrong. Sometimes it’s the color of your coat, sometimes the way you used to say my name, sometimes the order of events. I correct them gently, the way you would correct a child or a stranger, without urgency. It matters that I do it immediately. If I hesitate–if I allow the mistake to stand–something thins. The room, the air, you. I have learned not to wait.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales13 days ago in Fiction
