Scream Laughing

I broke my leg in a car accident last week and had been stuck at home recovering, unable to go anywhere. Just as I was starting to go stir-crazy, a couple moved into the house next door—the one that had been empty for ages. I pressed my ear to the wall, catching every sound of them making love, and even recorded quite a bit. Still, I never expected something so sinister to happen. The man next door sounded exactly like my dead husband! I moved my phone closer to the wall and listened carefully. Suddenly, a scream exploded through the wall. “Lindy, you’ll die for this!” My scalp went numb. My husband was mute. The only time he ever spoke in his life… was the night I forced his head into a bucket of water. How did the man next door know my husband’s last words before he died?

DUA AGHA KHAN. Dua agha Khan is a 28 year old woman trying to make her way through the judging gazes of people around her, being mute and divorced in a Desi society, she was gifted with criticism, harassment and Unhealed trauma. Her passion was writing began when she lost her voice admist the hustle of her haunting past and she had never felt more lucky to have become one of the finest writer out there. Escaping an abusive marriage was a hard task that almost cost her, her life. Surviving as a mute girl in the society she is met with yet problem of being arranged for a second marriage. It wasn’t something that she wanted, it wasn’t something that she would’ve probably looked forward to but it was happening. Not having the courage to say no she’soff to another ride of what seemed like an endless tunnel of darkness for her. RAZA SHOAIB Raza Shoaib is a 32 year old man with a serious personality. He doesn’t like getting involved in much and like to stay in his own boundaries. After having his fiancée cheat on him and run away a day before their wedding the image of loyal women had been ruined in his mind. He wasn’t looking forward to get settled and was happy living the life of an infamous playboy when his father arranges his marriage with the daughter of his Best friend. The girl he never approved of, having his father constantly on his tail with sharp glares and words he says yes to the proposal but with an intention to bring hell upon the woman’s life.

When Eloise Garpin, my daughter, comes back from kindergarten, she tells me that her teacher, Karen Linsell, has given her class a weird assignment. Apparently, everyone is to record their mothers' menstrual week. But what makes things weirder is that whenever I'm on my period, John Garpin, my husband who's often busy with work, keeps offering to pick Eloise up from kindergarten. One day, I come across a post on a social media app. "What should I do? I've fallen in love with my student's rich father! Oh dear, I really like him so much! You have no idea that his taut and slim waist looks so seductive! Every time I see him, I can't help but moan!" Someone begins admonishing her out of fury the moment they see the post. "What the hell? Are you itching to become a mistress? You really are shameless! Goodness, you're so disgusting! I can't believe you call yourself a teacher!" Unexpectedly, the original poster doesn't care about the comment at all. She even posts a photo featuring the aftermath of her carnal fun with the man. "So what if I am? Anyway, we regularly sleep together every month whenever he picks his daughter up during his wife's period. This is so thrilling!" I'm stunned when I see the million-dollar custom watch strapped to the man's wrist in the photo. And today… happens to be the first day of my period.

The story can be seen to be a bit horror based if you are to talk about the genre but still you will find a lot of comical reliefs once you give the story a try

Having grown up together, Selena Campbell and Frederick Lancaster were childhood sweethearts known as the perfect golden couple. To support him, she planned every step with painstaking care and calculated each move to perfection. She eliminated every obstacle in his path and paved the way for him to become the only Warbringer in Aurensia. Selena thought their love would eventually lead to marriage. But one day, a plain-looking young woman suddenly walked into Frederick’s life. At first, he said, "A mountain girl like her? She's beneath you, hardly even worth a second glance." Later, he said, "She's simple-minded and naive. Don't bother with her, Lena." But Selena slowly came to realise that the way Frederick looked at her was growing colder by the day. And when he looked at that young woman, there was a spark in his eyes—like he'd come alive again, full of the passion and recklessness of youth. One day, Frederick turned to her with a weary look and said, "Selena, how's our picture-perfect life treating you? Because honestly... I think I'm getting a little tired of it." That very night, Selena tore up the betrothal contract and left without a backward glance. "You won't survive without me!" Frederick roared furiously. But Selena smiled softly. "No. You're nothing without me, Your Highness."

After the Ritualist declared that Amber would not live past 18, I, a perfectly healthy girl, became the Misfortune Vessel. When Amber broke a leg, my left leg was crippled. When Amber tried to kill herself with shards of glass, the tendons in my hand were severed. I could no longer hold a pen. From childhood to the present, every wound meant for Amber landed on my body. She never stopped testing how far she could go. Skydiving from two miles up. Chasing sharks in deep water. Survival expeditions to the extreme North. Every choice courted death. I cried. I screamed that it hurt. My brothers refused to allow it. "Enough already. It's just a small injury. How could it hurt that much? You're too delicate." "If it hurts, then endure it." So I endured until the day I turned 18. That was when the Shared-Sense System found me. I enabled family sharing, and every single one of them went insane.

When I went to buy a new house, all I found was crumpled newspaper where my savings should've been. I almost called the cops—until I found out Tony Jarrett, my own husband, had blown seven years of my hard-earned cash on a shiny new motorcycle. For Pauline Schmidt. His ex. I asked why. He just shrugged. "She's a single mom. Life's tough. This way, she won't have to walk so much." I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down. Made him at least get an IOU from her. While I was busy sourcing stuff for the factory, a flood warning hit our town. And Tony? Out buying toy cars with Pauline and her kid. Our son was home alone, trying to stay above water. I was back. Like life hit rewind and dropped me into that exact day. The day he gave her the motorcycle. I saw them—laughing, tight, like their own little picture-perfect family. But I didn't cry this time. Didn't beg. Just turned and walked off.

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.

**** cover page not mine **** R rated read at your own risk After having a very hot one-night stand with a stranger, Christodia found out that the stranger is no other than the Kwame Agyapong, the heartless CEO and he now wants to own her by hook or crook. "Get the hell off me", I yelled. "And go where, baby? I want a recap of last time." And without warning he entered me fully. I scream "Yeah, scream baby, welcome to hell."

Lucia had never believed in rebirth. She had read about it a few times in books tucked away on her shelf, but she never imagined it could be real. Yet, here she was—reborn. This time, she swore she wouldn’t let kindness be her downfall. She would make them pay. Her so-called best friend and husband had used her, drained her of everything, and left her with nothing. They manipulated her, deceived her, and when they had no more use for her, they poisoned her—leaving her to suffer in agony for over a year. What a vile couple. On the night of her death—her own birthday—they stood before her, laughing as they confessed their betrayal. They had taken everything from her, and now, they wanted her to know the full extent of their cruelty. Her husband and best friend, her supposed confidants, had been lovers all along. Worse, they had killed her true mate. Lucia had wept until there were no more tears left to shed. Too weak to fight, too broken to scream, she watched as they reveled in their wickedness, even making out right in front of her as she lay dying. That night, amidst a raging storm, Lucia took her last breath. But when she opened her eyes again, morning light streamed through the window. "Is this heaven?" she whispered, confused. A familiar voice answered. "Lucia, you’re awake! Let me get the doctor!" Brittany exclaimed before rushing out of the room. In that instant, Lucia knew the truth. She had been reborn. And this time, she would make them pay—for everything they did to her and her family.