book reviews
Book reviews for horror fans; weather a sleepless night with literary accounts of hauntings, possessions, zombies, vampires and beyond.
Living in the In-Between: What My ADHD Feels Like
I didn’t wake up one morning and think, Today is the day I realize my brain works differently. It happened in pieces. Small, quiet realizations that stacked on top of each other like unread notifications. It started with an alarm. Not because I didn’t hear it. Not because I slept through it. I heard it. I looked at it. I thought about getting up. Then I stared at the ceiling wondering if cereal or eggs would take longer. Then I wondered if I still had eggs. Then I remembered I never washed the pan from yesterday. Then I checked my phone “for a second” and somehow twenty minutes disappeared. My body stayed in bed. My mind went on ten different field trips. That’s when I started to suspect something wasn’t just laziness. I tell myself every day: Today I will be productive. Not in a grand, inspirational way. Just simple goals. Shower. Answer two emails. Eat real food. Fold laundry. Four tasks. That’s it. Yet somehow, I start by organizing my sock drawer. Why? Because I went to grab a shirt. Noticed socks on the floor. Sat down to pick them up. Found a pen. Wondered where that pen came from. Started looking for its matching notebook. Ended up sitting on the floor scrolling through my phone. Still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Still hungry. Still no emails answered. But wow… my socks look amazing. People say, “Just focus.” I wish they knew how funny that sounds. I want to focus. I crave focus. My brain, however, treats focus like a cat treats commands. Sometimes it listens. Sometimes it stares at me and knocks everything off the table. There are moments when my brain becomes a laser. I write for three hours without blinking. I clean my entire kitchen in one burst. I solve problems quickly. I feel unstoppable. Then suddenly… it’s gone. Like someone unplugged my motivation without warning. I don’t know when it will come back. I don’t know how to turn it on. I just sit there, frozen between wanting to move and not moving at all. It feels like being stuck at a green light while everyone behind you honks. Grocery stores are my personal obstacle course. I walk in with a list. Milk. Bread. Rice. That’s all. Ten minutes later I’m holding candles, gum, a notebook, and a plant I absolutely do not need. Why do I own so many notebooks? Because I believe each one will magically turn me into a new, organized person. It never does. I leave the store with everything except bread. Every. Single. Time. Conversations are another adventure. I try so hard to listen. I really do. But my brain starts building side quests. Someone says, “Yesterday I went to the mall.” My brain says: Oh yeah, I need socks. Did I pay my phone bill? I should drink more water. I wonder if penguins have knees. Suddenly they ask, “What do you think?” I panic-smile. “Yeah… totally.” I have no idea what they just said. Growing up, I thought I was broken. Teachers wrote: “Smart but careless.” “Needs to try harder.” “Daydreams too much.” I believed them. I thought everyone else had a manual for life that I somehow lost. Why could others sit and study for hours? Why could others remember homework? Why did simple things feel heavy? No one explained that my brain wasn’t lazy. It was wired differently. ADHD isn’t just distraction. It’s emotional, too. I feel things loudly. Excitement becomes obsession. Small rejection feels enormous. Criticism echoes for days. At the same time, I can forget entire conversations. Not because I don’t care. Because my brain misfiles information like a messy computer. People assume forgetting equals not caring. That hurts. I care deeply. Sometimes too deeply. The day I learned about ADHD, something shifted. Not everything became easy. But everything made sense. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t broken. I was different. Different with strengths. Different with challenges. Different with a brain that moves fast and zigzags. Now I build my life differently. I write things down immediately. I use alarms for everything. I break tasks into tiny pieces. Not: “Clean the house.” But: Pick up clothes. Wipe table. Wash three dishes. Three dishes is better than zero. Progress doesn’t have to be perfect. Some days are still hard. Some days I scroll instead of start. Some days I forget important things. Some days I feel behind everyone else. But I remind myself: I am running a different race. And I am still running. Living with ADHD feels like living in the in-between. Between chaos and creativity. Between exhaustion and inspiration. Between struggling and shining. It’s messy. It’s frustrating. It’s also full of imagination, curiosity, empathy, and ideas. So many ideas. I’m learning to stop asking: “What’s wrong with me?” And start asking: “How does my brain work best?” That question changes everything. I am not a failure. I am not broken. I am a human with a fast, noisy, beautiful mind. And I’m still figuring it out. One unfinished to-do list at a time.
By Behind the Curtain4 days ago in Horror
The Burari Deaths: A Tale of Horror
Imagine living in a tight-knit neighborhood where everyone knows everyone. In this community lives a family of 11. Then, one bizarre morning, you wake up and they’re just... gone. Vanished into thin air. You and the neighbors decide to check on them, only to stumble upon the strangest and most terrifying story you’ve ever heard.
By Hossam Gamal6 days ago in Horror
The Echo in the Floorboards
The house on Miller Street didn't look haunted. It didn’t have sagging shutters or a bleeding foundation. It was a crisp, mid-century modern ranch with floor-to-ceiling windows and honey-colored oak floors. Elias bought it because it felt "transparent." After a messy divorce and a cramped apartment, he wanted a life where nothing could hide.
By Asghar ali awan7 days ago in Horror
Nothing Felt Wrong at First — That’s What Made It Terrifying
Short introduction Come Closer is a psychological horror novel about possession, but not in the dramatic, spinning-head, holy-water kind of way. It’s quiet, modern, and very close to real life. The book follows a woman named Amanda as something slowly starts going wrong with her thoughts, her behavior, and her sense of self. It’s short, simple, and written in a very direct voice — which is exactly why it works.
By Rosalina Jane13 days ago in Horror
The Haar: A Fog That Hides More Than You Want to See
Short introduction The Haar is a short horror novel set in a quiet Scottish coastal town. It mixes folklore, grief, body horror, and revenge in a way that feels both strange and oddly emotional. On the surface, it looks like a creature feature. But once you start reading, you realize it’s really about loneliness, loss, and what happens when someone finally decides they’ve had enough of being stepped on.
By Rosalina Jane15 days ago in Horror
Hell Without Fire: Why A Short Stay in Hell Quietly Ruined My Peace
Short introduction A Short Stay in Hell by Steven L. Peck is a very short novel, almost novella-length, but don’t let that fool you. It’s one of those books you finish quickly and then keep thinking about for way longer than you want to. It falls under horror, but not the usual kind. There are no monsters, no gore, no shocking twists. Instead, it deals with eternity, punishment, and what happens when hope is stretched way past its breaking point. It’s quiet, simple, and somehow deeply unsettling.
By Rosalina Jane15 days ago in Horror
Someone Has Been Watching Me My Whole Life
The first time I saw him, he was standing beside my mother’s grave. Clad in a black coat, with no umbrella and an emotionless face, he stood perfectly still. Rain soaked his hair, yet he didn’t move, only gazing at her name carved into the stone. When he caught me watching, he looked up and smiled.
By Rosalina Jane15 days ago in Horror
The Screams Beneath the Floorboards. AI-Generated.
Old houses make noise. They creak, groan, and sigh as if remembering things they were never meant to keep. That’s what I told myself when I first heard it—a faint sound beneath my feet, barely louder than the wind slipping through cracked windows.
By David John18 days ago in Horror
