Everything seems perfect when Ebony meets Chresanto - but is falling in love around secrets even possible? ***** True love can be scary when you're still hurt and disappointed by past relationships. So when Ebony and Chresanto first meet, they both feel like what they have is too good to be true. But between vindictive exes and dangerous relatives threatening to pull them apart, they still can't escape the sinful feelings growing between them. Will they be able to trust each other and learn to love again - or will they give up in the face of their dark pasts, before things even get real? « One plus one is equal to two But me and you, we are equals to one. » - Me & U by Bracket Content and/or trigger warning: This story contains scenes of sexual activity and violence, and mentions suicide, sexual assault and sexual abuse, which may be triggering for some readers. [[word count: 300,000-350,000 words]]

From the author of You, my Punishment and Have you..? 'Vincent Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness inside him. Many people thought he was mad and stupid for doing so because the paint was toxic, never mind that it was obvious that eating paint couldn't possible have any direct correlation to one's happiness, but I never saw that. If you were so unhappy that even the maddest ideas could possible work, like painting the walls of your internal organs yellow, than you are going to do it. It's really no different than falling in love or taking drugs. There is a greater risk of getting your heart broken or overdosing, but people still do it everyday because there was always that chance it could make things better. Everyone has their yellow paint.' I closed the page of my laptop and sighed. The things I've been reading were not helping me to have peace with myself. I looked in the corner of my room. It looked gorgeous. The blue balloon looked gorgeous. Blue stands for communication, for trust. For logic and for calm. Blue is thinking, light, sun, sky. But to me, blue has the worse inside. To me blue is cold. Blue has lack of emotion. Blue is unfriendly. It was never there for me. No one was. Blue looked gorgeous from the outside, but from the inside it was empty. Empty as my soul. Nila was having a battle inside of her. Her mind wasn't logical. Things never made sense. She was trying to find something, but always ended up with empty hands. She knew that there was a truth somewhere hidden in the world. She knew she would find it. She started receiving letters that was going to change that. But what she didn't know was how broken she would be when she finally found it. How many broken blue balloons will there be when she has finally peace with her mind, peace with her own yellow paint. ~ Islamic romance story. I warn you for the grammar mistakes.

[Previously known as 'Have you'] Have you ever felt so alone? Have you ever felt like they stabbed you in your back? Have you ever thought you were going to be a victim of rape? Have you ever felt like you can't even trust family? Have you ever thought that something good would come out of something bad? Have you ever thought you would have a cute little angel at this age? 'No, I haven't. I haven't before. But now I realized that you can't expect anything from life. Everything just comes and goes. You can't stop it. You can't change it. You will be tired, but in the end, it will only make you stronger. I didn't know that I would go through all of this. I never thought about the fact that I will have a baby when I was still so young. I didn't think he would do this to me. But it happened, and it will only make us stronger..' Manar was nineteen when she got pregnant. But she realized that she was in this alone. All alone. She was strong. She knew Allah was always there for her and when she saw the face of her little angel, she knew that it was going to be alright. After all, her faith in Allah was all what she still has and it helped her to stand on her feet when everything around her was pulling her down. The only aim of her life is to be there for her angel, for her little boy.. But there was one thing that kept her afraid and always running; the threatening notes she finds everyday.. Kamal is sick of the rich world. No one understands him. He doesn't want to run his dad's company.. He wants to live the life he wants and the way he imagined it. He doesn't trust anyone, and that's why he is always alone. He has a few friends, but that's it. But what happens when he meets the strongest girl he has ever seen, that was taking care of a child? He feels something he has never ever felt before. It felt weird yet good. It hurt him, it made him happy. But why? ~ Romance Islam

{Completed} My name is Miracle. I got that name when I was fourteen. I can't remember my family. I can't remember my friends. I can't remember anything from the past. Do I even have a past? Where was I born? Who are my parents? What did I like? Did I prefer dresses or sweaters? Was I a girly-girl or a tomboy? I lost everything the moment I came forcefully here. I didn't ask for this nor did I would want it. I came here to loose myself. I came here, because I got kidnapped. Everything I had known, everything I had forgotten came up to surface and tried to swim when he came into my life. He, the one who saved me.. ~ This story is so much more different than my previous ones. This is too emotional and extreme. Its about two people meeting each other in the worse circumstance. Two people who are trying to save each other by loosing themselves. Its still Islamic of course, but that will appear later in the story. If you don't like grammar mistakes, then this story is nothing for you. You have been warned. Also contains it scary parts which could make you cry, so if you can't handle that, then don't read it. Romance. GENERAL DISCLAIMER ABOUT MY WORKS: I write about the things that people don't want to think about. I write about the things that people are turning away from when its mentioned. I write about the things no one warned you about because in their eyes its a taboo to even think of it. I write about atheists, rape, forced marriages- all of the darkest side of life. If you don't like that, then this account is nothing for you.

He was now striding purposefully towards her as she tried as much as she could to compose her self. She wasn't wrong. It was Umar. Umar the brashly arrogant, softhearted egoist she once loved intensely. Deep inside her, she knew she still does but she has to stop. HIS GORGEOUS MUSLIMAH is a story like no other. Read to find out how destiny played it part in the lives of Minal and Umar

Pental Pal (noun) - one who exchanges letters to one another as pen pals. But uses the same writing utensil, in this case, a pentel pencil. They never wanted to do this from the start. The thought of writing to a complete stranger. Never seeing whose handwriting is in the letter you're reading. Someone who could be miles, maybe even oceans away from you. And all you get is a picture and a name. To Lizzabeth Teschler, this is extra credit. Even though she doesn't want to do this, she had to. But she's doing this for extra credit so she can still maintain her title of having the highest GPA record. Then she could finish the rest of high school and go off to college. Her whole life is all planned out for her, and she can't do anything to change it. There's a future for her, but not the one she wants. To William Patier, it's cruel torture. He had to do this against his will. This is his last chance before he gets shipped off to military school. Nothing but waking up at dawn, eating disgusting food, and not have a single girl in sight every day. After he graduates from school, who knows where he'll find himself. There's no future for him, not like there's any way to change it. So two complete opposites from different worlds are forced to write each other for a whole year. Add that with some arguments, secrets, two pentel pencils, some cookie butter, a Green Day album, an origami heart, some coffee from Starbucks, two teachers dating, Eddie Anderson, a rival and a cheater. With all that bundled up, who knows what will happen? But at least they don't know each other... right?

A story of heartbreak, betrayal and bounce backs.

Within her was the rising wave of memories, bowling over in violent tides, trying to crash through the barrier she had built over the years. She could feel the force that shook the restraints, leaving her almost breathless. She won't let it happen. The bang intensified, shaking and nearly spilling. She held back, pushed back, her fist tightening. What roared inside her was the need to breakdown and the need to remember a dark past.

Hanan Shafiq is a normal 22-year-old obsessed with fashion. She was unaffected by the craze of internationally famous Muhsin Khaleed. No, she didn't have time for fangirling, since she had been waiting on her childhood first love to come back for her after 17 years. Just when she thinks life is going on perfectly, steps in a man who ruins everything she had built over all these years. And the most thrilling part of the story is the fact that the man was none other but the globally celebrated Muhsin Khaleed.

Her heart was beating so fast and her stomach ached so bad. She knew this was it, this was her fate being sealed. " Zhulfah Bint Ilyas? " It would be weird to ask the Imam a question like " Hey look. There was a really nice old friend of my dad's pestering me to be his third wife and I didn't want to go to Ogbomosho and his proposal came along and everything kinda rushed from there, so does that mean I was in my sane mind when I said...yes?" Surely some level of insanity meant she wasn't sure, right? Must the question be a yes or no answer? Can't it just be a maybe? Something along the lines of ' maybe I'll marry him 'cuz my heart is kinda telling me to but my brain's answer isn't forthcoming?' Wait...does that even make any sense? " Zhulfah Bint Ilyas? " She hadn't had breakfast but she felt like she downed a whole packet of laxatives with the way her stomach danced weirdly. " Zhulfah... " " Yes! Yes! Yes! I do! I do!" She said a bit too loudly into the mic, and was instantly filled with regret. She heard her best friend chuckle lightly behind her and she wanted nothing more than to give her a good beating. She glanced over at her husband to be in a few minutes, and her face heated up when she caught him smiling amusingly. " I mean", She cleared her throat. " I do...accept him as...as..my husband." " Well, I think I'll have to speed up the event and legalize these two", The Imam joked and the whole congregation burst into laughter. Zhulfah's face warmed up several degrees, and she was so sure her face would be burnt before the end of that day with the way she was blushing to a severe degree. The Imam was still laughing, and she knew it won't look like a joke much longer if she had a scissors to his beard.