Internalmonologue Stories

A short story about love and loss, and coping with both.

Survival isn't about luck. It's about fire. In a twisted Hunger Games where every night could be your last, one young tribute clings to their fire-and to the hope of getting home to Yuji. Each spark is a heartbeat, each flame a lifeline, and every shadow hides a threat. Desperate, exhausted, and determined, they'll do whatever it takes to survive... even if it means burning everything down.

She smiled once. That's all it took. Now Vale times his life by her footsteps. The gas station register clicks for everyone else, but for her, it slows. He listens to her music through static. He memorizes the scent of her laundry detergent. He watches, quietly, surgically, like it's his job to understand her down to the way she zips her coat. Vale's camera clicks quietly. Mira doesn't know. Why would she? She's soft, ordinary, naïve. Kind in a way that feels accidental, not deliberate. She hums while she shops. Smiles without meaning to. And Vale? Vale thinks everything means something. This isn't love. It's fixation. And it only gets worse from here.

A man struggles with two companions during a stay at his Mother's house

A short story about a man whose life is a self-constructed black hole and his chance encounter with an elderly, blue-eyed wastrel. Contains: minor dissociation, minor suicidal ideation

"He loves me, he loves me not..."

Tara, a girl who loves sleeping because her dreams are better than her reality but her reality doesn't let her sleep peacefully, Just existing her life hoping it will get better someday. Sagun, a boy who is rude careless, but who enjoys his life to the fullest. Tara is tired. Tired of being totally misunderstood, of hiding her thoughts, of carrying pain no one sees, but Sagun? Sagun is loved, fearless, unbothered & adventurous. When their worlds collide, It gets messy. It's slow, but It's real. It's messy. It's healing. It's a total chaos. Basically, it's just life - but with a plot.

"The spring hasn't arrived yet. The park's ponds haven't thawed. The flowers haven't bloomed. The sun, still in slumber. The only song that I can hear is that of a lonely heart. With each beat, my hands grow colder. I can no longer feel the warmth of my mother's hand in mine. What a terrible gift to remember all that you experience as an infant. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much if I didn't recall her. Waking up to my mother's beautiful amber eyes that outshone the sun. Her sweet touches, her silky hair. Her every word was music to my ears." A short story inspired by a prompt on reedsy.com: "Write a story about someone walking through a park on a spring evening, told only through internal monologue."

A woman tries to escape her past, but when a journalist making a documentary comes to dig a little deeper trouble starts to stir as old family secrets are uncovered.

Six broken college students form found family while fighting institutional bullying, discovering that healing isn't about fixing what's broken-it's about accepting it.

The story of a man, the man with a vivid imagination in a rather strange body. The young mind grounded by the oldest body. The story takes place in the Yellow City, where he has to deal with the problem of his identity along with his daughter whom he didn't know existed.

In the quiet stillness of a late night, nothing feels louder than the things left unsaid. Lying inches apart, they exist somewhere between love, and distance - between holding on, and letting go. He won't tell her what's wrong. She's too afraid to ask the question that might break every-thing. But, some nights aren't meant to last. And, some silences say more than words ever could. This is the story of a love that didn't end... it just slipped away.

In a world where science and magic bleed together into a nightmare of survival, appearance is the ultimate deception. Zeraran looks like a nightmare incarnate. Standing tall with a massive, muscular frame, dark-skinned and possessing a gaze that screams "cold-blooded killer," he is the image of a high-level villain. But behind the defined chest muscles and the murderous stare lies the heart of a professional coward. Transported by a mysterious shadow demon to a wild, unforgiving dimension known as the Constant, Zeraran is forced into a game of survival he never asked for. While the world expects him to be the apex predator, Zeraran's only real goal is to find a hole to hide in. To stay alive, he must maintain his "villainous" facade to intimidate the bizarre creatures of the wilderness-all while screaming internally. In a land where hunger is a constant threat and the darkness itself has teeth, can a man who is afraid of his own shadow survive by pretending to be the very monster everyone fears? "I'm not the hunter. I'm just the biggest bait in the woods."

At the end of the world, a lonesome figure treks through the forest.

Everyone has their own unique balance-some shine with loud words, while others find their strength in quiet knowledge.

Quinn is a 16-year-old. "She" is a great kid, mentor, and leader. However, Quinn doesn't feel right in her body. It's not even 'hers'; it's theirs. Quinn has always known they're non-binary yet doesn't want to ever accept that fact.

It was easy. That was the whole point. No labels. No pressure. No overthinking. Just... something. Until Jo realised it wasn't enough. And Tom realised he might actually lose her. Now they're stuck somewhere in between- not nothing, not everything- trying to figure out what this is... without ruining it completely.

Scar takes a very long walk down memory lane, reliving the joy, sorrow, regret and confusion of his first love. Later, he sees the special someone he's been thinking about all day. A Scarian one-shot inspired by the song "The Great Divide" by Noah Kanh.

An extended version of the scene between Dinah Madani and Krista Dumont in Krista's hospital room, with more insight into what Krista is thinking, plus a surprise button.