Three children realize they're trapped in the basement of a crazy woman who claims to be their mother, and forces them to call her "Mommy". __________________ created February 4th, 2017 IMPORTANT NOTICE - if you're reading this story on a site that is not www.wattpad.com then you could be at risk of a malware attack. Furthermore, please go to this link: www.wattpad.com/user/z0mbies, and report to me where you are reading this story. Thank you. WARNING: This story contains distressing material. Reader discretion advised. The characters in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

This is a lyrical poetic weird story that combines the rough sadness of this life with the colors and the shades. Cyan the main character raised by his parents red (the mom) and blue (the dad) . Goodluck of getting out healthy enough and pray for cyan❤️

All friendships are weird...right? With accidental thigh grabs, unintentional kisses, and late-night rooftop conversations, Alexis's friendship with Axel definitely takes the cake. But it wasn't always this way. They rekindled their friendship after a fight and it seemed as everything changed. Romantic feelings started to arise, followed by mixed signals. The friendship seemed to be heading in a different direction than planned and only time could tell whether or not there were two travelers on this journey. Cover by @harshadaselena

I was standing in my balcony looking at the dark sky with stars. It was peaceful and calm. I liked this. For the first time in this whole year, I felt calm. "I wish for true love and luck on finding myself." I laughed at myself. I never believed in God. But little did I knew about wishes. They had their flaws too. Everyone and everything does. I'm Kylie Jones Wilston, and you're going to read my story. *** Updates: slow, I don't have a schedule, sorry about that :^(

"Give me ten days, and I can give you ten reasons not to die." Evan paused. "And if I can't change your mind by then, you can go jump off that cliff."

The heart dies a slow death: whomever has been there, feeling like their soul is being peeled off, knows it. It is not real death either: that would be easier. Instead this takes strength beyond human to withstand without going insane or becoming a demon. And the world is already full of heartless ghouls who once cared too much. Yet, it can be done. You see, some things must be shattered to pieces as to be repaired beyond their wildest expectations, and God is Japanese in his craft: he likes to fix his broken porcelain with gold. Don't give up just yet, and you will live to see how you are being diamonded out of carbon. There is this underlying order to the mechanics of the heart: for it to work properly, sometimes you just have to sit down and bear the tantrum of cries and screams. So that is what I did. I listened. Consider this a warning. This is the journal of my voyage into the inner unknown, the tempest, with its depth and dark clouds and light winds; with all its mermaids, and all its monsters. This collection of weirdness deals mostly with break ups, with broken things, with just brokenness in general, meat-red raw: it's my account of what it means to be gloriously and tragically human when reason falls back and passion turns against you, and you have to hustle your way through. When living and dying share the same heartbeat in the hollow of your chest. In the best Dionysian spirit, I've added music next to the pictures, here and there, to go with the reading. To all the silent star-gazers and playlist loners out there, I really believe the world would be a darker place without you. So this one is for all of you who know what it feels to be drowning in the deep waters in an ocean of tears never shed, the ocean within. It is not less a mysterious, dangerous place. And as with all sea things, there is only handful of counsels to give. Dive at your own peril. Keep an eye around. Now, follow me: there's a lot to see before dawn. Take a deep breath.

you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, my father would say i find it kinda funny that even though i am honey, you refused to stay.

my dumb emotions