Romans & histoires Short Stories Coming Of Age

“How about a new story little one? A story with no pitchforks and nobody dying seems better for a walk in the woods, don’t you think? We wouldn’t want you to have nightmares tonight.” “Oh Gran, I’m five and a half now. I can read and everything! I don’t have nightmares anymore. Especially not from stories. They’re just make-believe!” “Some stories are real little one. Today I’ll tell you a true story, about a shy young princess who gathered up all her courage and jumped in the river to float away and hide from a whole pack of werewolves!” “A whole pack of them?” “That’s right.” “Did she know how to swim?”

“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.

“Oh! Apologies. I didn’t add my last name earlier. Confusion.” Everyone laughed at Nicholas, but when he tucked on his jacket and cleared his throat, I understood it was his perfect method of conveying his message. “This is a short uninteresting story about me,” he continued. “Don’t bother taking out a pen,” everyone laughed again, and I felt so proud. Nicholas has developed so much. “I was a teenager from the countryside surrounded by too many ugly events,” he proceeded seriously. “I had a few good ones, yes. Like the two nice doctors, I mean, one nice doctor and one not-so-nice doctor that came into my ugly life.”

There I lay down on a branch and let my attack slide away. I'm not sure if i should like the special gift because i still remember one night when i was a couple of years younger a scream. I sneaked out at night because it was hot and i couldn't sleep so i wandered around and i came close to the priestess cabin and i could clearly hear him talking to a new girl who was brought in the day before she became 21 about how now she would receive his birthday gift to her because she baked a woman and than i heard him growling something about being so tight and the girl screamed her lungs out and started crying afterwards. I was so confused because I also heard other girls talking about their gift an

The shopkeeper, an elderly man with kind eyes, greeted her warmly. "Welcome, dear. You seem like someone with a story to tell. What brings you to our little haven?" he inquired, peering over his reading glasses. Marvis, feeling a sense of camaraderie, decided to share a glimpse of her journey. "I've recently started a new chapter in my life. Leaving behind a past that no longer served me." The shopkeeper, nodding knowingly, gestured to the shelves. "Ah, the power of stories. Sometimes, the ones we create for ourselves are the most transformative. Take your time exploring; you might find a tale that resonates with your own."

My heartbeat accelerates as I read through the rest of the letter. “You do not believe me? Let me tell you a little story. Do you remember when you were nineteen years old and so intent on changing your parent’s situation? You do? That is where it all began. Buckle up because what you’re about to read might change your life forever…”

One unforgettable summer had taught us how to stay. Some love stories begin with sparks. Ours began with years of waiting, quiet persistence, and one extraordinary summer that changed everything. And this time, we knew we were exactly where we were meant to be. The End.

A young boy, perhaps eight years old, stood nervously near the entrance. "Excuse me..." Cassian smiled kindly. "Can I help you?" The boy clutched a worn notebook against his chest. "My teacher said..." He hesitated. "...that libraries keep stories forever." "They try to." The boy stepped forward. "My grandmother told me stories every night." His smile faded. "She died last winter." Cassian's expression softened. "I'm sorry." The child held out the notebook. "I wrote down every story she ever told me." His voice trembled slightly.

“What’s it about?” Mom glanced at Dad before answering. “It’s about a young girl whose future is bright and full of possibilities. She’s curious and desperate to explore the world. She leaves her parents in tears and travels far away. Thirty-five years later, she finally returns… but her parents are old and frail. She breaks down crying, realizing she missed so many years of watching them grow old.” The story hit a little too close to home. I already knew where this was going. “Mom, I’m not going anywhere for thirty-five years,” I said softly, looking up at her. “It’s just for a few weeks.”