Honestly, mi feel like mi too young fi have dem kinda man problem yer. Because all now mi cyaa leff di bwoy. Ah mussi tie him tie mi. I hear the driver's side door open and I flash open my eyes to see Micheal coming into the driver's seat. He doesn't say anything as he pulls out his phone to connect it to the car. Without warning he starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, adjusting his seatbelt as he turns onto the street. "Noelle, mi honestly nuh inna di bagga chatting right now, so it better if mi juss carry yuh back a yuh aunty yaad" his voice is low and I could hear his annoyance and anger in every word. "Mi nuh know why yuh so angry Micheal...but yea bring mi back ah mi yaad because mi nuh waan deh roun yuh right now" I say turning my head to look out the window, crossing my arms in the process. "Eeeh? A suh it aguh go?" he asks with an emotionless stare. "Bet" He starts to speed up the car, turning up the music on the stereo as he overtook the car in front of us. Fada God please don't mek this man run we off ah the road and kill we.

"Move from in front a mi," I say. But it comes out softer. Weaker. More honest than I intended. I'd be on the first plane out of here tomorrow. Nothing that we've said in the past twenty minutes would matter once I am on that plane. We are tied to each other, and our pasts don't have to intertwine any more than they already have. He doesn't move. I step sideways. He mirrors me, like he's tethered to the same gravity. "Kymani-" "Selah" My name in his mouth feels like a dare. A part of me wants it to feel like a promise. I shake the thought. After what feels like a standoff written in the marrow between us, he finally exhales and steps back. Barely. But enough. I don't waste it. I slip from his hold, my heartbeat pounding in my throat, in my ears, in the soles of my feet as I bolt toward the door. I leave him there. Leave the house. Leave the heat still burning between us. And I run. Fast, desperate, the same way I did the first time I left this place. The same way I survived. I don't look back. Not at him. Not at the house. Not at the version of myself that's still trembling inside those walls. Not anymore.

19 year old Ka'Moura moved from her small community in St. Thomas called 'Stony Hill', where she was suffering from poverty, to start a new life...a better on in the city...In the town rather. Wah dem say when a country girl move to the city? 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐧 Wanna know how her journey in the city goes? Read to find out. Highest Rankings🏆. #1 in teenauthour #1 in countrygirl #1 in jamaica #1 in youngwriterprize

Two enemies with a hatred that tastes like desire. What will happen? Read to find out!

"𝐼𝒻 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇, 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹'𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝓍" A Jamaican Story! Written in Standard English and Jamaican Patois Read to find out more!!!!!!

"Remember me?" - Shannakay williams

A 21-year-old midwifery student looking a name for herself, A sense of independence and love will she find love by dating a badman? READ TO FIND OUT!!

I saw him. I saw the big bad Jamaican don, only known as Mash Head. The only problem is that he saw me too. Shit. He procured the famous name Mash Head because it marked his style. Whoever fucked around him or his gang either got their head bashed in with a hammer or a gun shot point blank range. Fitting wasn't it? And I'm 100% sure that's how my body will be found. Fucking hell I should have stayed home and masturbated.

Want a man weh buss gun 😍 Ex man neva duh him job gud suh mi x him outta di bloodclaat picha (Don't mind my mistakes through out the book )

Two mad people..pt.2