Novels by Anika

The night of the party finally arrived.The following days after orientation seemed to blend. Classes, library, games, back to the dorms.Things went on smoothly with the girls.I had chickened out last minute.I wasn't a party guy.Back in highschool, i'd feign sickness to skip all the unnecessary (fun) activities. Because I didn't like being in crowded places. But my mum once said I deserved to live to. And Ben would have called for my head if he had missed this because of me.So I manned up.Put on my best party outfit. A pair of Jeans and full length shirt of course.I had Chestnut coloured 3A hair, but I always dyed it pure black. But this time, I decided to go natural. With a bit of a different of-course.Ben advised me to go for modern mullet.Said it would "make Clara more I interested." I only tried it because I was tired of carrying the same hairstyle from highschool.It came out great, paired with my outfit shoes.I felt weird standing outside my dorm, waiting for the

6 years ago—The first time I met Jess was at the faculty orientation."Look... I told you it isn't important. I could've been sleeping in my room right now." Ben said, rolling his eyes.Ben was my friend.5'6. Brown eyes, golden curls. Had an accent.Your typical golden retriever boy.Except… he was a lazy ass."Just shut up and focus.""Yeah, if you promise to buy me dinner." He smiled coyly at me."Why would I bribe you to focus on your own education?" I sighed."It's not a bribe, it's just something to keep me happy.""I'm not your partner, you sick fucker. And neither am I your dad.""Yeah whatever. Still get me dinner, okay? I'm broke."I rolled my eyes, leaning back."Is this space free?"Brown eyes met mine.Curly ginger hair, rainbow sweatshirt, baggy pants. She looked British.While I was bickering with Ben, I hadn't noticed her walk up to us—and neither did Ben.She was pretty, I wouldn't lie.But I wasn't ready for girls yet."Sure, it's free." Ben replied, nudging me.I h

Night pressed hard against the windows.The office lights were low, but not soft. Just enough to show everything, not enough to hide anything.Cole stood by the window, shoulders tight, eyes fixed outside like he could disappear into the dark if he stared long enough. His breathing was steady, controlled—but there was something held back in it.Aaron watched him from behind the desk.Not sitting now.Standing.Waiting.“You’ve been pushing the system again,” Aaron said.Cole didn’t turn. “I’ve been following it.”A pause.Aaron gave a short laugh, quiet and sharp. “That’s not true.”Cole finally turned slightly. “Then what is it?”Aaron stepped away from the desk.Slow.Measured.“You test everything,” he said. “Rules. People. Limits. Like you’re waiting for one of them to break first.”Cole’s jaw tightened. “Maybe I just don’t trust blind control.”That made Aaron stop.The room felt smaller immediately.He walked closer.“You think I’m controlling you?” Aaron asked.Cole met his eye

The office was quiet. Too quiet for a place that held so much control over other people’s lives. The faint hum of the ceiling fan mixed with distant metal clanks from cell doors somewhere far down the block.Aaron leaned back in his chair, Cole’s file open in front of him.“Prescott…” he muttered, flipping a page slowly. His eyes scanned every line like he was trying to pull something out of it that wasn’t written there.David stood across from him, stiff. Hands behind his back.“You’ve been staring at that file for over an hour,” David said carefully. “It says the same thing every time you read it.”Aaron didn’t look up. “Then maybe it’s missing something.”“It’s complete.”Aaron’s lips twitched slightly. “Nothing is ever complete.”David shifted uncomfortably. “Sir… if you’re thinking of reopening—”“I didn’t ask what you think.” Aaron cut in, voice sharp but controlled.Silence fell again.Aaron flipped another page, then closed the file slowly. His fingers tapped against the cover

The men’s room was quiet.Too quiet.The kind of quiet that pressed against your ears, where even the drip of water from a loose tap sounded louder than it should.Aaron stood behind me.Watching.Not the usual way—no irritation, no bored authority.This one was different.There was no hiding it.Just… hunger.Raw. Unsettling.“What do you want this time, Aaron?” I asked, my voice low, steady—but not respectful. Not anymore.“I see you forget I’m your warden,” he said, stepping closer.Too close.The scent of whisky clung to his breath as it brushed my cheek. Warm. Sharp. Real.I inhaled slowly, trying to ground myself.“We could get caught,” I muttered, shifting back a step.“Did we do anything?” he replied, almost amused.Through the mirror, I caught a glimpse of him—his chest rising slowly, his uniform stretched tight across it, like it couldn’t quite contain him. I looked away quickly.This was dangerous.Not just the situation.Him.And the worst part?For a split second—just

The door to solitary closed with a clang which echoed through the cell. Forty-five days.. "Why don't you eat my ass for forty-five days. Bitch" I mumbled. My mind moved back to Gabriel's furious face... His expression when I didn't flinch as my hands were roughly cuffed. Not one single sign of pain. The familiar cell stood bare. Concrete. Steel. A thin cot bolted to the wall. A toilet in the corner with no privacy. Or dignity. The light flickered. As usual. But it never went off. Day one passed. Day two I counted the cracks in the wall. Day three, I was scraping the wall. Time passed. But I couldn't differentiate. There were no other people here. No breakfast. No lunch. No dinner. No distractions. Just silence. By day six, my knuckles were split open from punching the wall.... Not out of anger. Just to help feel alive. By day 11 everything felt blur. I lay on the cot staring at the ceiling, watching the flickering light. I couldn't sleep. Didn't want to let th