letters from an amazigh heart

letters from an amazigh heart

Reads 816
Votes 66
Parts 6

Ongoing17m

Last published Fri, May 15, 2026

amazigh amazighmythology kabyle

amazigh blood runs deep. they tried to silence us, but we're still here. this is our story, raw, real, and unbroken. from pain to pride, from silence to fire

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"Things I Never Said Out Loud"
These are truths I was never taught to speak. Here lie the words I swallowed, the pain I buried, and the questions they told me not to ask. For the unheard. For the unseen. For the ones who feel too much in a world that tells them to feel less. I write for you. I write for me.
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Run For Your Life [Watty's 2015]
'Seventeen years by her side. Broke the same bed and wore the same clothes and we said We're sisters with nothing between, if one of us falls the other will soon be following. Both of you fell the same day and you don't know why but one of you never woke up. You lay by her down on the floor. You're desperate to hear her footsteps again but this house is on fire and we need to go. Oh, you don't have to go it alone, go it alone. Run for your life my love Run and you don't give up With all that you are and all that you want I will be close behind So run for your life...' Twins, Ama and Ayo are separated when a village fire tears their world apart, leaving only Ama to survive. But far away, no longer in her village. A world beyond different from the small village she once knew. [Based on the song 'Run For Your Life' by The Fray. Cover by @pastelpixies Summary help from @xBrokenPiece and @teaa_mi]
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MEMORIES 💓
© @pihudaa short stories of our SIDNAAZ,😊😊 Published on : 16 June 2021 Completed on : 2 August 2021 Copyright Reserved This story is originally published on Wattpad by "@pihudaa" This work is my original work , copying it's content or story plot will surely get into the strict action.
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amongst the lavenders | ✓
stcrcrvssed 2021© she lay there; pale and motionless. Her brown tresses soaked in blood. she lay there, in a pool of her own blood; lifeless. he stood there, dumbstruck. not able to process what was happening in front of his eyes. uncontrollable tears rolling down his cheeks.
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𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐲𝐚 : 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 ✧
𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 ✧ 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝑅𝑜𝑚-𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝒉 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑇𝑜𝑢𝑐𝒉 𝑵𝒂𝒗𝒚𝒂 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒉𝒂𝒏 ❀ I never thought my life would be tied to him - the man who is my complete opposite. Where I am shadows and silence, he is light and laughter. I have spent years trapped in my past, haunted by memories that refuse to fade, while he moves through life effortlessly, bringing joy to those around him. But me? I only bring pain. I hurt those who get too close, whether I mean to or not. And now, the cruel twist of fate has bound me to someone I despise - my academic rival. The one person I have never been able to stand. We have spent years at each other's throats, never backing down, never conceding. So why? Why the hell would he want to marry me? What game is he playing? Fine. If he thinks he can handle me, he's wrong. Now that we're married, I'll make sure he regrets every single moment of it. 𝑨𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒓𝒂 ❀ What the hell was she thinking? Did she really think she could walk away from me? I warned her. Told her not to go through with that marriage. But she never listened. Four years. Four damn years by my side - challenging me, pushing limits. And now? She actually thought she could marry someone else? That she could belong to another man? That she could live a life that didn't include me? Hell no. If she was so determined to ruin my patience, I'd return the favor. That's why I did the only thing I could - I kidnapped her and made her mine. Now, she has no choice but to stay. And I? I will make sure she suffers for daring to think she could ever escape me. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Love and Heartbreaks (Jholet)
Some wounds never close. They wait in silence, buried deep beneath forced smiles, hidden behind the rhythm of everyday life-until the day they resurface, tearing open everything you thought you had already survived. This is a slow burn story.
He Bled: Just For Being ✔️
Welcome to HE BLED: JUST FOR BEING This is not a love story. This is a wound - a confession carved from truth, the kind people fear to speak but cannot stop feeling. I am their mirror. A puppet to my emotions, I dance to the pull of survival. Every page bleeds something different - pain, defiance, lessons learned in fire. There is no single plot here, only fragments of life. Each chapter stands alone, yet they all carry the same heartbeat: He bled. Just for being.
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𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝟖
Brendan Clearly. He was the lad I liked since I was barely out of pigtails, the one who never slagged me off when the rest of the boys thought it was gas. He was different. Always smiling, always asking me if I'd eaten, like some little mammy trapped in a seventeen-year-old fella's body. It sounds stupid, but those tiny things kept me going. And then I went and wrecked it. Not just with him-no, I managed to shatter it with all of them. My friends, the ones who made the halls feel less lonely, the ones who kept me tethered here when the world felt too heavy. Gone. Because of me. Just a mistake, that's all it was, but a mistake that cost me everything. And now when I see him across the yard, laughing with the others, it's like a knife. He doesn't even look my way. And I deserve that, don't I? *** Caoimhe Kavanagh. Once upon a time she was my best mate. The kind of girl you'd sit on a wall with for hours, talking about nothing and everything. She was soft, kind, never the type to go looking for trouble. But now? I hardly recognise her. She's gone cold, sharp, always hanging 'round with that crowd-the type of people you know are only bad news. Ciggies tucked in their sleeves, mouths full of poison. And she's right there in the middle of it, like she belongs to them now. Part of me wants to write her off, tell myself she's not the Caoimhe I knew. That girl's dead and gone. But... I can't. I remember too much. The way she used to laugh, the way she'd defend you even when you were being a gobshite, the way she cared more than she ever let on. That's still inside her, I swear it is. I don't care how hard she tries to hide behind the mask she's wearing now-I know my friend is in there somewhere. And I'll drag her back if I have to. Because she's worth it.
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𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝟏𝟎
Hughie Biggs. The love of my bloody life. The fella I swore I'd grow old with, get a ring on my finger from, have the big church wedding, the lot. I used to lie awake at night and picture his hand in mine, picture his laugh bouncing off the walls of our kitchen. Back then, I didn't have the faintest clue about the way the world could chew you up and spit you out. I remember us when we were younger, before everything went sour. When Caoimhe was still alive, when her laugh could still fill a room. When I still had friends-real ones, the kind you'd sit on the green with till it got dark, passing a bag of crisps around, talking rubbish and thinking it meant the world. Back then, we were untouchable, or so we thought. But nothing lasts, does it? Not love, not family, not even friendship. Everything rots eventually, like fruit left out too long. Secrets crawl their way to the surface no matter how deep you bury them, and when they do, they choke you. That's what happened to me. That's what happened to Hughie. The truth came crawling, and it ruined everything. So I've made up my mind. I can't stay here, not in this cursed town, not walking the same streets where his hand used to brush mine, where Caoimhe used to skip beside me, where I laughed like I actually believed in tomorrow. It's all poisoned now. Every corner, every memory, every face that looks at me like they know more than they should. I'm leaving. For good this time. I'll pack a bag, take nothing but what I can carry, and I'll vanish before anyone can stop me. No goodbyes, no explanations. Just gone. Because the truth is, there's nothing left here for me anymore-only ghosts, and I've had enough of them to last me a lifetime.
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"Things I Never Said Out Loud"

These are truths I was never taught to speak. Here lie the words I swallowed, the pain I buried, and the questions they told me not to ask. For the unheard. For the unseen. For the ones who feel too much in a world that tells them to feel less. I write for you. I write for me.

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