When The Sky Turned Red

Reads 67
Votes 11
Parts 4
Time 8m

Reads 67
Votes 11
Parts 4
Time 8m

A short story about a young boy who experienced feelings of sadness, isolation, and hopefulness related to his father, who was forced to go to war. As Red grew more isolated, his hope that his father was still alive slowly faded.All Rights Reserved

contemporary youngwritersshortstory

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A scent. A scar. A slow-burning fucking romance dressed as nostalgia. It started with a fruit. Not love, not sex - a goddamn strawberry. The kind that looks like it's been kissed by every shade of red your childhood never had. He didn't share it. Didn't speak of it. Just tasted it once, and carried the ache ever since. Years later, she walked in - smelling exactly like that forgotten sweetness. Not perfume. Not fantasy. Just... truth. Sharp, quiet, terrifying truth. The kind that crawls under your skin and whispers remember me when you least want to. He lied to her face. About himself. About the million ways he'd already started unraveling. But she knew. Women like her always know. She stared at him like sin dressed in judgment - and touched his wrist like she already owned his pulse. And he? He was fucked. Because she wasn't just beautiful. She was red. That memory. That craving. And no matter how much he pretended to be in control - she was already in his bloodstream. This isn't a love story. It's a slow possession. By scent. By memory. By her. And it ends exactly how it starts - with him on his knees, and her smelling like fucking strawberries.

Short Story After Sam's mother passed away his father spiraled into depression, lost his job, and was never able to rise back up. After months of financial hardships, little to no food in the house, and the want to live dwindling down, Sam meets a boy; Samuel Weber.

Her world had never been soft. She'd learned too quickly that people could love you one day and rip the ground out from under you the next. So she built herself out of armor: cool smirks, careless words, the lie that she didn't care. She convinced everyone around her that she was untouchable, that she didn't need anyone to stay. That way, if they left, it wouldn't matter. But the truth was, she longed for the chaos. She trusted it more than stability, because at least chaos was honest. At least when something was toxic, when it was tension-filled and dangerous, you knew exactly where you stood- you knew it could hurt you. What unsettled her more was the idea of something pure, something kind, because that was where betrayal liked to hide. He's cold. She's reckless. And somewhere between jealousy, secrets, and a Halloween Party that changes everything Athena learns that sometimes the scariest thing isn't being hated. It's being wanted. *** Writing for my bestfriend!

Smile - A Story of a Boy who lost his Smile by ConanLevi

Its a story of a boy from a rich family which was full of comedians for centuries but then a genius was born. A genius who could make anyone smile with his own. His smile was as bright as the day and as warm as summer. But then he suddenly lost his parents, he was down, frustrated and he was only 15 years old. His parents lost their life on the way of going to their son's comedy show. And he thought it was his fault. But then there was a little hope............

This is not a tale. This is not a heroic saga. This story is just that, a story. A story written by life and told through the eyes of a young man. This is a fictional trip down memory lane, that took some major inspiration from real memories, feelings and events from my own life and and those of my friends. Hopefully an interesting or a memorable short story :)

Just a few of my short stories written when I was growing up. The themes are often sad and dark. I don't know why that is, but this was just a phase. Let me tell you, the sun always shines in the end. The images are not mine. Credit goes to their owners. No copyright infringement intended.

She let the dreary feeling wash over her and gradually succumbed to the darkness. Knowing that her love for him was overwhelming her, she fell further into the pitiless nightmare. There, she realized, that sometimes love doesn't conquer all. Currently Editing

Contemporary story told in the first person about a young man facing the trials of everyday life while also wrestling with forces unknown even to him.

COMPLETED✅ Two high school teenagers finding themselves, analyzing this ever changing world, and building love. This is the type of love you wish you found in high school but probably know way too well that it only exists as fiction. Today I'm turning my fiction to reality. ❣️•••❣️ Excerpt: Just as I was about to seek shelter under some building's roof, the tires of a car come to a halt, I wonder who might pity the lonely girl walking in the rain. The passenger window rolls down, and I spot the most unexpected person seated behind the wheel. "Get in" comes out his voice, and I must've stood there agape for a few moments because next comes his rhetorical question. "Are you getting in or continuing walking in the rain?" Eyebrows raised expectantly. He sounds annoyed, like he regrets his decision to ever stop and help me. ❣️•••❣️ #5 in cynical #2 in loveandfriendship #1 in opinionated #4 in ihatelife #10 in nerdgirl #10 in HighschoolRomance #26 in GoodGirlBadBoy *contains mature themes. *contains cursing.

"Almost, Always" 🍁🌹 Some people enter your life like whispers...soft, sudden, and gone before you can hold on. She didn't expect to see him again. Not after years, not like this. Not when she had finally learned how to forget the boy who never truly left her mind. But fate isn't loud..it's quiet, casual... cruel. In a classroom filled with noise, their glances screamed stories. A slow-burn connection, unsaid words, and almosts that could've been everything. This is not a fairytale. This is a memory rewritten..with the ending she deserved.

Strawberry

A scent. A scar. A slow-burning fucking romance dressed as nostalgia. It started with a fruit. Not love, not sex - a goddamn strawberry. The kind that looks like it's been kissed by every shade of red your childhood never had. He didn't share it. Didn't speak of it. Just tasted it once, and carried the ache ever since. Years later, she walked in - smelling exactly like that forgotten sweetness. Not perfume. Not fantasy. Just... truth. Sharp, quiet, terrifying truth. The kind that crawls under your skin and whispers remember me when you least want to. He lied to her face. About himself. About the million ways he'd already started unraveling. But she knew. Women like her always know. She stared at him like sin dressed in judgment - and touched his wrist like she already owned his pulse. And he? He was fucked. Because she wasn't just beautiful. She was red. That memory. That craving. And no matter how much he pretended to be in control - she was already in his bloodstream. This isn't a love story. It's a slow possession. By scent. By memory. By her. And it ends exactly how it starts - with him on his knees, and her smelling like fucking strawberries.

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