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For the tenth time that day, Lucy's phone rang. She knew that, because she had been counting. And for the tenth time that day, Lucy ignored the shrill sounds of the phone. She didn't much care for it, it was if anything annoying and too persistent for her taste. What she had learned, was that persistence got you killed. Much like curiosity. And she would be giving into both those things if she were foolish enough to answer the phone.

Hi my name is Anna Johnson I live in Brazil and go to Westville High not many people know me, I don't interact much but, because of that I met my best friend Catherine she was the complete opposite of me she would invite me to parties and I would usually say no cause I was scared but my life isn't boring especially since I have my high school crush with me Logan Walker.

I still don't know why my father drove away before sunrise. For years, I believed that was the part of the story that would never make sense to me. I was wrong. I was too young to understand it then, and every time I asked my parents about that morning, they either laughed it off or admitted they couldn't remember it at all. Sometimes I wonder if forgetting is easier than remembering.

The morning came gently, the way it often did in late spring - without urgency, without noise, as if the world itself had decided to stretch before speaking. Sunlight spilled across the small street in soft, slanted lines. It touched the rooftops first, then the windows, then slowly made its way down to the pavement where it shimmered faintly like water. Somewhere in the distance, a bicycle passed, its wheels clicking in a steady rhythm that faded as quickly as it arrived.

Dear Frank, I am writing because letters feel safer than feeds. A message can sit in a desk drawer and wait. A post will burn in pixels and feed on itself. You told me once that chasing attention is like feeding a stray dog. If you stop, it will go away. If you keep feeding, it will come back in packs. You smiled then. You were right. I did not listen.

A priest once gave me a gift in Aragon. He said it had belonged to a saint. That was a lie. Whatever power dwells in those dice does not answer to heaven.

It's stuck in my mind, trapped and buried in the deepest regions, only to resurface when my mind wonders. I'll be on the brink of sleep, drifting off when the haunting memories return to me. It was to become a man they told me, but it simply made me less of a human.

I have a... peculiar hobby. I mean, I guess you could call it a hobby, though it’s probably more of a habit of mine. Before I tell you what it is, let me tell you a bit about myself.

There was three of us that night; James, Daniel and I. We had spent an entire month planning our Holiday in the Hoia-Baciu Forest. We've read stories, upon stories regarding the paranormal shit that has occurred within the locality, and we somehow considered it a fascinating idea to venture out there as a camp-out experiment. I was nervous nevertheless, but it didn't intimidate me whatsoever, and there was also three of us. Nothing could go wrong... as I thought.

I'm very worried about my son. More than worried, at this point. Terrified. His behavior these past few weeks is not normal, not healthy. It makes me think there's something wrong. At first, he would just come and stand at the door way. He did this at night, just before I'd be ready to fall asleep. I'd roll over to turn off the lamp, and he'd be standing there, in the doorway. I used to try to speak to him. I don't do that anymore. He never has answered me. He just stares.

Stephen Hillenburg is one of the better-known names in animation. Born on August 21, 1961, he was not only an animator but also a marine biology educator. He passed away on November 26, 2018. He is best known for shows like Rocko’s Modern Life and SpongeBob SquarePants, the latter of which continues to air to this day.

You open your eyes, but there isn’t anything to see. It’s all blank- whether its white, or black, it doesn’t matter. But then it does- a blinding light fills your eyes, and you squint away. When you open them again, you’re in a building. No, not a building- a train. The windows show the scenery outside moving at such a speed that you can’t even tell what you’re passing by. The interior is simple but sophisticated- mostly white, with a few booths set up against the left wall.

I’m what you could call a collector of bootleg Pokémon games. Pokémon Diamond & Jade, Chaos Black, etc. It’s amazing the frequency with which you can find them at pawnshops, Goodwill, flea markets, and such. They’re generally fun; even if they are unplayable (which they often are), the mistranslations and poor quality make them unintentionally humorous.

My son died yesterday, on an autumn evening, when the wind blew hard and the leaves hid from the first cold. The ambulance arrived too late. Since then, silence scratches my mind. But the worst thing was the wait every night, when he returned.

In hindsight, this story is pretty embarrassing but hear me out. It’s not easy being the new kid who just moved to town in the middle of the school year. It didn’t help that this place was practically the middle of nowhere, the only restaurants being a mom and pop diner and a Taco Bell that was attached to a gas station. I nearly cried when I looked up how far away the nearest music venue was; an hour and a half, and they only showcased country bands.  I’ve never had a knack for fitting in, and…

Hello, my name is Alice. This is my story. No no, Not the cliche story of falling down a rabbit hole into a mysterious unknown land with a Red Queen who cuts off heads and a man in a ridiculous hat who has tea parties. No this isn't like that.

A rose is a simple thing... Sweet... Loving... Kind... But it is also emotional love and pain.... This rose is black as the night, its thorns cut once touched... This rose is cold as December winds... The Enteral Rose, never ending pain of screams of those who held it once before... All end in tragical... For a simple touch, a simple scent of this rose will lead you with your own...

I remember that first day… I was out of the house and went to the convenience store. There was always an advertisement on the window and there was this one poster everywhere. I took a good look at it, not really understanding it but it had fun, colorful, goofy characters and a box below it. I decided I’d look at it after getting snacks, I came out of the store and had a sudden feeling of dread reaching for the box but I didn't mind it. I picked up the box and brought it home to look at, I…

This happened to me many years ago, but I just can't get it out of my head. Maybe writing it down will help, so here it goes.

So ur wid yo honi and ur makin out wen the phone ringz. U ansr it n da voice sayz "wut r u doin wit ma daughter?" u tel ur girl n she say "ma dad is ded." THEN WHO WAS PHONE?