Traumatic Stories Novels & Stories

“Imagining Stanley, hearing footsteps and feeling like someone is watching me.“I don’t know if I’m losing my mind.” She leaned back slightly. “Trauma can trick the mind into reliving danger, even when you’re safe. You’ve gone through emotional abuse, physical abuse, attempted kidnapping, losing your sister, an attack at your wedding, betrayal… and now grief. Anyone in your shoes would feel like their senses are lying to them.”

I was locked up here for the crime I never did, Tracy narrated Tears wet her body as she narrated the story, "I always thought I had the saddest story, but hearing about yours today, make me realize how much strong you are, Rissa said as they cried together, "I want you to be brave like me", I don't want to hear your story, I want you to have faith, be strong and everything will be okay, Tracy said tabbing her back gently, "With tears in their eyes, they lay on the floor, staring at the worn-out celling and slept off all wishing tomorrow to be good, THE BROWN PARADISE "Clifford Walked out of the bathroom with his towel tied around his waist leaving his full chest and abs opened,

Jennifer: Shrug emoji. I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As

I wanted to leave because I had my first sex with a guy in the woods and people saw me and they probably think that I am a slut now. I wanted to leave because the only man that I have ever loved and trusted my whole life just fucked the living day light out of me. He went in from not only my vagina, but my anus making sure that he gave me tears in my two holes, and now I could barely walk or pee or even squat. I wanted to leave because I wanted to be with to be the only human who has never lied or tried to manipulate me, mother. I wiped the years strolling down my face with the back of my hands, biting my lower lips very hard so I would stop myself from crying.

I groaned when water splashed on my body. We are at the house of my best friend, Linda, celebrating her birthday. Unlike any other people who celebrate their birthdays together with many of their colleagues, Linda wanted to do it with only me and her parents Lisa and David. Lisa has been a cripple for 6 months now. She got into an accident and unfortunately, that happened to her. David is upstairs taking care of his wife at the moment. “You know what. Every night I always dream for my mother’s fast recovery. Even though she tries to hide it, I could see in her eyes how much it affected her, not only physically but emotionally and morally.”

Third Person's POV Atticus tried to pretend he was listening as Tristan told one of the many stories of his teenage life for what seemed like the 100th time. Atticus heard these stories so many times, he knows them by heart. But as much as it annoys Atticus to hear these stories over and over again, he can't bring himself to quiet his Beta or remind him how many times he's heard these stories. These are stories of people Tristan will never see again. Experiences that he can only remember, instead of having new ones with people who were once family, friends, and fellow pack members. So instead he keeps quiet, nodding his head and letting his friend reminisce and remember the good times he had

“Especially me.” He shifts, running a hand through his silvery hair before meeting my gaze with quiet intensity. “There are legends… stories passed down through generations in our pack. Rare cases where trauma — deep, soul-shattering trauma — can cause a wolf to go dormant. Hidden. Caged within the human half.” He pauses, letting the weight of that sink in.

"I can't. I know what I saw. I know what I carried." "What you believe you saw," he said, not mean, just certain, and the certainty was worse because it meant he wasn't trying to twist me—he really thought I was wrong. "The mind under trauma is a fragile thing. It makes up stories to protect itself. It's my job to peel those layers back and find the truth underneath, no matter how hard it may be." He let the silence sit, and the recorder picked up my breathing, the sound of it loud in my own ears.

I started a conversation, not about the boy, but about the creature, testing the waters. “I had only heard stories,” I had said, wiping down the bar near him. “They say they’re unnatural, a mix of lion, goat, and serpent.” He had flinched, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, but I had seen it. “They’re worse than the stories,” he had said, his voice low and rough. “They’re chaos. They don’t have a strategy. They don’t have a purpose. They... destroy.” Through careful conversation, I had begun to piece together just how deeply those creatures were tied to his trauma. “You’ve faced one before,” I had said, not as a question, but as a statement.

Who knows what traumatizing pain that Henry and Jared must have been through to have experienced such toxic events at their early stage in life. “I was found by the riverside too. That was what the older people in Moon pack told me when I began to question them about my background and life story. It was humiliating for some time until I learnt to deal with it like that. It was an inevitable fact that have become a part of my story. I and Jared story is a mix of complicated series that I don’t believe that things can straighten up between us.” I tell them my mind.