He drew deep black squiggles in his notebook. No one could find out that he was infected, that he was now one of 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚. The squiggles grew larger and now resembled an all-consuming spiral. If someone found out, he was screwed. This was serious.

When I arrived in a park, the streetlights turned off, everything was dark. I walked towards the exit to search light, but a foot blocked my way and I fall. I wanted to get up, but a hands grabbed me by the neck

Jayla did as she was told. Jazz was her favorite music.

The cake was deliciously moist, fluffy, and sweet. In a word: perfect. Reggie hated every single bite. She chased the last bite with a cold glass of milk. Then she dabbed at her mouth with that perfect linen napkin. That was when she decided she was going to kill Lydia.

She felt a chill run up her spine. As it reached her neck, her hair felt like it stood on end. She had the feeling she was being watched. She turned her head, looking over her shoulder. Her eyes went wide and her chewing gum fell out of her mouth.

You woke up and realised that it wasn't your room and it scared you so much that you were paralysed while the fire was burning everything around you. You came out of there after several minutes frozen by panic. At the end of the corridor there was a person hiding in the flames...

How am I here? In this place. My tears are long gone, as too is my mental flipbook of faces, which I can no longer recall. I see an object, it looks familiar but what is it!? People are near me, I don't know who they are. I don't know how long I have been here. The walls are cold

Oh it's happening. It's definitely here. You look around outside at what would be your first shop. Fluffy, warm pastries paired best with a steaming cup of coffee. The thought had kept you smiling down to this very moment. For now, somethin to eat. Some donuts.

Seven thousand tonnes of snow. Bitter frost. I had to trek miles forwards for even a glimpse of light in this frozen over, barren wasteland.

The plane was crashing. I didn't know what to do.

“Where am I?” she asked aloud, not expecting an answer. She stood in a cave illuminated only blue green light shimmering on the walls near the entrance. A brightly backlit forest visible just beyond. “A fantasy land built from your subconscious,” replied a man’s voice.

I write this letter hoping that its confession will be apology enough. Although my fame has brought wealth & romance, it's also burdened me with guilt. You see, I never wrote a single one of my songs. Rather I stole ideas from the ghosts of Lou Reed & Burl Ives who haunt my home.

Her forehead touched the stone as she took a shaky breath. The flowers, clutched in her fists, begged for air as her knuckles turned white.

You become the person you pretend to be.

"Well, that's that," I said, letting the shovel fall to the ground. "What now?"

People trust me with their secrets—but they shouldn't.

There once was a girl. A girl who was just 16 years old. She was walking home alone, all she could her is her charm bracelet moving around as she kept picking up her phone. She heard only a couple cars driving by. She was a bit alarmed, she had the thoughts of someone watching...

She was telling me about research her lab at MIT is conducting that shows opening microwave doors during a cycle causes our brains to be bombarded with enough electrons that we’ll forget who we are and be compelled to run away. “Don’t worry. It’s cumulative,” she said.

“MEMORY LANE, All Trips Non-Refundable” read the sign on the door. I walked inside to find a clean white room with only a front desk, no chairs or ferns or any of the normal strip mall clutter. An old man appeared from a door just behind the front desk. “Welcome to

It was there and then, that I had lost the only person that I ever cared about, In that barn, near the door, with the cubblewood fence...

I never thought this day would come...a strange disease has spread throughout the entire world. People is being held in quarantine facilities to avoid exposure. Food and water are limited, even toilet paper, who would thought of that!

I'd been following the man for 3 days when he finally noticed.

I wake up to find myself in a forest, tied to a wooden chair. I struggle to get out. Then, ahead of me approaches a figure. In the gleam of the moonlight, it is clear that he is holding a knife.

"Well, that settles it," I said. "I am never doing that again!"

I felt a hand and my hair sprang from every nook and cranny of my body and when I turned around, my face went from pure fear to unbeatable disappointment. I laughed at the creature"

It turns out that the easiest part of life after death is the dying bit—after that, well, everything gets a little complicated.

The notes of the song flew from her mouth as if pulled by a string. The lights so bright, she was blind. The stage was alive, and the theater was swallowing her whole. There was only one way she was going to come through this performance with her life and her soul intact:

Once upon a time, in the fruit-filled jungles of Twibby-Dibby, there lived a giant snail known as...

The Case of the Want my Life Weirdo

If I’d actually believed it was possible, I never would have done it.