A writer. A weird stranger. A lot of little conversations. An online understanding. Every night. 23:11.

Welcome to my world of hidden stories and untold words.

Madi's slumber party is suddenly terrorized by a harmless dare.

He began walking over to me. This is it. I'm dead. I saw his shoes come into my view as I was looking down, hair covering my face. "Look at me." He growled out. I started to cry, too afraid to look. He grasped my chin and lifted my face to meet his. I mentally gasped. It's the guy from last night. His eyes held surprise too, before anger erupted in them. I cowered back in fear of what he might do. "Who did this to your face?" He growled. I started to cry again and shake. "Him." I whispered and gave a small nod toward the guy who hit me.

Matilda is certainly one of the best communists in her city, but will she ever be recognized for her talents? For those wishing Rold Dahl was more communist, this book is for you!