"The unfixable; the shattered; the torn; the broken. They all come here. It's my job to remake them, because once its broken there is no going back to the way it was. It must be remade." Six individuals. Six unique stories. Five exercises. One room. One mirror. One therapist. One goal. Odette is put into group therapy after one-on-one therapy doesn't work. She meets four other people who have gone through the same thing she has. She also meets her group therapist Cleo Patricks. Cleo's methods for therapy might not be what some people call "ethical" or "compassionate" but they have been proven to work -- or that's what the medical journals say.

“You can’t do everything someone tells you to do because you want them to like you or believe you,” he continued following me. “Well what else am I supposed to do?!” I turned on him. “Stand up for yourself; have a mind of your own.” Aislinn was a cheerleader, known by everyone at school, a flirt, popular, and a bully. Over summer break she meets Crispin, a boy all the way from England visiting America on holiday. Crispin with the help of his friend Dylan start to teach Aislinn that life isn't all about being popular, dating a bunch of guys, and most of all, following the crowd. They teach her the finer points of doing what you want and not worry about what others think. That it's okay to stick out from the crowd. © Somethingtrue 2013. All rights reserved.

[You can now purchase 100 Voicemails' paperback on Amazon!] After a car accident, seventeen year old Steve Carlton, goes into a coma. When he does wake up after a few months, he suffers from temporary memory loss. During this time, he starts to go through his messages and voicemails on his cellphone, trying to get a clue of who he used to be. Voicemails sent to him from a girl called Ari might have the answers to his questions. A story told through voicemails.

A dialogue short story about the things we wake up to that remind us there are still things in this life worth waking up for. ante meridiem - [adv. & adj.] "before noon;" Abbr: A.M. Or a.m. [credit to owner of image (not me)]

"I'm not okay!" I yelled at him. "Okay?! I'm not okay." My chest rose up and down as I breathed heavily. It had been years since I had a break down, and I wasn't going to have one right now. "It's okay not to be okay," he whispered, walking closer to me. He caressed my cheek, trying to sooth me. I stared at him, pain filled my eyes. I was trying hard not to cry. I couldn't cry. That's not what I did. "It's okay to cry," he comforted. His eyes stared so hard into mine I felt like he was seeing into my soul. "Crying shows weakness, and I'm not weak," I told him, swallowing hard. "Sometimes crying is the strongest thing you can do. It just shows everyone else that you're just as human as they are." And right then and there I started sobbing. I had lost all control of my emotions, I cried like I hadn't since I was little. All those times I didn't cry when I wanted to poured out now. The walls I spent so long building to make them unbreakable, broke. Alana finds a thick orange envelope in her mailbox one day. No return address, no stamp or postage mark and it's not even addressed to her. Someone had just dropped the letter off in her mailbox. The only thing written on this envelope is "You might need this... or not." Alana takes it inside and begins to read the life story of a complete stranger. The life story of someone trying to find their place in this big scary world. © Somethingtrue 2013. All rights reserved.