Myself Stories Novels & Stories

This journey of writing has been a voyage of self-discovery, where I have learned as much about myself as I have about the craft of storytelling. I believe that stories are the threads that weave our shared human experience. They have the power to transcend cultural, geographical, and temporal boundaries, reminding us of our common humanity. Whether through the written word, oral tradition, or digital mediums, stories connect us, inspire us, and challenge us to grow. It is my hope that my words will find a resonance with readers, that they will evoke emotions, provoke thoughts, and spark conversations.

’ Himanshu mumbles timidly. For more than half of my life, I have been a good storyteller. I like writing. I do. But I only scribble to let out my frustration. Those are random thoughts. Just like that...dripping with anger, agony, happiness, and desperation. I wrote because I was bored and did not want to let the whole country scrutinise it. I am sure my skills are way ahead of some stupid Luna out there. Hell Yeah! ‘Explain yourself.’ Sierra demands, folding her hands to her chest intimidatingly.

I click it on before his light clears the basement. Victory. Something I'm doing is getting through to him. It could be my stories or my submission. I laugh at the thought. I don't have a submissive bone in my body; it's a complete sham. Not the stories, though. Those are true and it's comforting to finally say them out loud.

“I believe in you but what’s important is do you believe in yourself?” “I do.” “That’s what matters. As long as you believe in yourself, everyone’s opinions don’t matter.” “Do you think so?” “I know so.” “I have written a lot of short stories which i haven’t shown to anyone.” “Really?” “Yes.” “I would love to read them.” “I’m excited about the new story i thought of.” “What is it about?” “It’s about the most notorious crime family in Zambia.” “That sounds interesting.” “I don’t know where the idea came from but each and every day, it grows stronger,” Ludo smiled.

I dust over the bed and lay on it. This is not the type of arrival I wanted, I wanted to feel at home again, to be welcomed with no worries but no, it is the other way around. Mama letting out her insecurities about Hassan, khairat is busy with her upcoming examination and Hussain is no where to be found. The door creaked ajar as a broad figure entered inside, the person's face came into light and it was Hussain. I quickly ran into his embrace, without caring if he stinks or he is sweating." Babe, I thought something happened. You stayed long and I was worried" I muttered into his chest.

YOU CAN CONTACT ME THROUGH INSTAGRAM AND IN FUTURE I MIGHT POST SOME PICTURES TOO RELATED TO STORY. MUCH LOVE -AUTHOR (devil_ish.angel)

A life spent looking backwards misses all the beauty that lies in front of it. Your parents aren’t perfect. You might have realize this. But you’re pretty darn smart. So, like I said before, we have to forgive ourselves or the coulda, woulda, shoulda, fear and anxiety will creep into a crack of our weaknesses, and overcome us. Please know we’re not perfect, and we will never claim to be. Our personal journeys have stories to tell. THAT’S for sure. When it comes time for stories, though, talk to me first… because chances are your father’s are going to be inappropriate. HA!

Tossing the covers off my lower body, I lift my body off my bed into my chair, settling myself correctly, unlock the brakes before wheeling myself into my bathroom to perform my morning routines. I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Jace Martin, I'm a 17 years old senior in high school. I'm the second oldest child of my parents five children. My parents are not together any longer, they went their separate ways when my mom walked out of our lives when my youngest sister Amelia was only 4 years old.

What Inspired Me To Make This Story? Once I saw that so many celebrities and people in general were speaking out against sexual abuse, I want to dedicate a story to them. I didn't write to be like a savior or exploit the situation. I wanted to write this story, because I was sexually abused as a child. I won't go into the full details, because it's too disturbing and traumatic for me to share. But I wanted to give a voice to people who were too afraid to speak out. Also I didn't want to focus the story on myself, because that would have been selfish and not honorable to everyone else who experienced much worse.

I also tried to write simple success stories of female entrepreneurs, but I realized it's better to interview them personally to ask how they have conquered their trials in life, personally and in business. The only thing that I haven't tried writing about is myself, my own story, my own battles. I think my story is not bad and a bit inspiring. I just don't think Melanie would be one of the people who would feel inspired by it. Since I'm running out of time and ideas, I decided to write about myself.