Mr Potato Head

A senseless tragedy struck Alanis Roswell, wiping out her greatest dream: having a family. Alanis will never know how it feels to hold her own baby. So, her career became her main focus, giving it her all. Everything went well until she met Brody McLean. He was so charming, so easy to fall in love with. But when he told her about his dream of becoming a father, Lanie decided to push him away. Brody McLean was gorgeous, rich, successful. But he wanted to find the right woman and start a family. Was Alanis Roswell the woman he was looking for?

It's Kleo's 17th birth and her closest friends have all decided to treat her for the day. While at a lounge, her mom(a nurse) surprises her with a single phone call telling her to come home early which was a shock due to how busy the nurse schedule is but when mother calls you just have to listen. Never been behind the wheel before and getting praised for her driving skills it was unanimously decided as a joke that kleo should drive which as it turns out was a bad idea to begin with. A truck hits her car and puts her into a coma and is rushed to the hospital. On the other hand there's Avan and Avan's mom has cancer. She has a year to live but as fate would have it her room is just right beside Kleo's room. Avan always used to see kleo's room full of visitors but never the girl they were there to see, however, he notices that it's empty today, the day the doctors announce his mother's remaining life span... Dejected, sad and angry he storms out of the room and happens to be around when Kleo's room was left opened, sneaking a peak to notice the beautiful girl that is unconscious.

Vicky Andrez has many problems, anxiety being the leading cause. It makes him start his first year in college late. There, he meets his first love and high school crush, Anderson Matheos. Only now, Anderson is dating Vicky's roommate Jesse. His bad habits are coming back. The fixation he had on Anderson and his brother, Archer. Vicky is torn between maintaining his very good friendship with Jesse or trying to rekindle his love with Anderson who's not only possessive but overall toxic.

To celebrate Halloween, our company booked an immersive “rural horror” escape room. My boss said whoever could make it to the end without screaming would get a ten-thousand-dollar reward. As a seasoned horror movie fan, I was instantly tempted. The core character in the escape room was a scarecrow wearing an oversized pumpkin head. I admired how well the props were made, but the chainsaw noise was too loud, so I slipped into a hidden compartment, put on my headphones, and scrolled through reels. The next day, I woke up to a strong metallic stench mixed with the sickly-sweet smell of rotting pumpkin. The police told me our boss had canceled the booking at the last minute, and the actor originally assigned to play the character had gotten food poisoning. That pumpkin-headed figure wasn’t one of their staff.

Being a mute used to be simple before all the craziness started. I just can't talk and that's who I am. Mum has learned to accept that and I guess so have I. Everything was just fine in my high school in Shanghai. I had finally made it to year twelve and even though I was in China, I was actually being treated as a human being despite my disability. Things were definitely not perfect but I would give anything to go back to that, like it was before. I heard my first voice that year, right at the beginning of year 12. I didn’t really have any real friends, but I was used to it and before the voices started, I was fine with that. But it all changed when I first heard them. The voices inside their heads started then and my life was never the same. They weren't just thinking about school or they girls or guys they were into, no they were thinking about doing things, doing horrible things to each other and I was the only one that knew how messed up they really were.

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.