The Nicest Badass From Another Universe

A Cold Bed In The Quiet Earth I walked through the cemetery, the soles of my boots crunching softly against the gravel path. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, and the shadows stretched long and thin, casting an eerie glow over the gravestones. I shouldn’t have been there. This was not a place for late-night visits, especially not alone. But tonight, I needed to be here. I needed to see him.  I was just a teenager when he was tearing up stages, leaving a trail of shattered amps and broken hearts in his wake. But his music, the raw power of his presence—it spoke to me, like nothing else ever had. Even now, years after his death, I couldn’t listen to his songs without feeling a pang of something deep in my chest. Was it love? Maybe. It was hard to say. How do you love someone you’ve never met? Someone who never even knew you existed? But love was the only word that made sense when I thought about him. He was a ghost, a shadow on the edge of my existence, but his songs spoke to pa

  Beautiful Chaotic Child   I see the weight you’ve carried, The battles you’ve fought in silence, The way you’ve held yourself together When the world tried to tear you apart. You’ve been strong, relentless, My fierce, stubborn warrior, craving the good In a world that often gives you the worst. But you’ve faced it all, head held high. You are my everything, my wild, sweet riot, A force of nature that can’t be tamed. Trust that voice deep inside, the one that whispers You can conquer anything, be anything. Don’t heed the doubters, even those close as breath, Trust your instincts, For you are unstoppable, unbreakable. The future is waiting for you to claim it. Keep going, my beautiful rebel, The world is yours, And I’ll always be right here, By your side, forever. You’re alright kiddo. - Rotten.

  AUTHORS TRIGGER WARNING This story contains sensitive and disturbing themes such as kidnapping, blood, violence, threats, abuse, substance use, PTSD, and death. I have decided to publish a reduced and softened version of this content, but it may still be triggering for some readers. The content is entirely fictional and has no connection to real events. I advise emotionally sensitive readers to consider this warning before reading.   Note:  When you reach the end of the story, I highly recommend listening to the song "Elvis Costello - I Want You" that I have included. ----------- ----------- ----------- ----------- ------ The Stupid Details That  My Heart Is Breaking For  G wen, opened her eyes painfully, hands and mouth bound, to the sound of a rusty, creaking bed in the dark and damp second floor of an abandoned shack. Her mind was numb from drugs, dazed and weak. Sharp pain and heat radiated from her wrists and ankles, making it difficult to breathe. She brought her han

  YAZARIN UYARISI Bu hikaye, kaçırılma, kan, şiddet, tehdit, istismar, madde kullanımı, PTSD ve ölüm gibi hassas ve rahatsız edici temaları içermektedir. Bu içeriklerin daha azaltılmış ve yumuşatılmış versiyonu yayınlamaya karar verdim, fakat bazı okuyucular için yine de tetikleyici olabilir. İçerik tamamen kurgu olup, gerçek olaylarla herhangi bir bağlantısı bulunmamaktadır. Duygusal olarak hassas olan okuyucuların bu uyarıyı dikkate alarak okumayı değerlendirmelerini tavsiye ederim.   Not: Yazının sonuna geldiğinizde, eklediğim videodaki 'Elvis Costello - I Want You' şarkısını dinlemenizi şiddetle öneririm. ----------- ----------- ----------- ----------- ------ Kalbimi Kıran Saçma Sapan Detaylar G wen, terkedilmiş barakanın karanlık ve nemli ikinci katında, paslı, gıcırdayan yatağın sesiyle elleri ve ağzı bağlı bir şekilde gözlerini acıyla açtı. Zihni ilaçlarla uyuşmuş, sersemlemiş ve güçsüzdü. El ve ayak bileklerinde keskin bir acı ve sıcaklık vardı ve nefes almakta zorlu

  In the hushed embrace of night's lament, A woman's sigh, like a whispered hymn, Gently flows through the dim chambers of her somber dwelling, Cloaked in mist and solitude. Her countenance, marked by love’s lamented art Her locks, a fiery hue of brick red, Aflame with the moon's tender caress, dance with the night. Each uttered word breathes the weight of unspoken sorrow, Painting a poignant picture of shattered dreams and waning hopes. Once tender vows, exchanged beneath the gentle gaze of moonlight, Now lie fractured and forgotten, Scattered like petals of a wilting flower upon the cold, unforgiving ground. The warmth that once kindled her heart now fades, A flickering flame in the chill of isolation,         Casting long shadows upon the remnants of their once vibrant love.  To wound her tender heart, he embraced indifference, Forsaking the gentle touches and whispered endearments that once bound them together. Amidst the mournful melody of her lament, She wanders the d

“Bu Sözlere Sahip Çıkacak Olana;     T üy kalemim parşömenle buluşurken, mürekkebim, düşüncelerim ve anılarımla birleşirken, bir gün bu satırları okuyacak olan, tanımadığım, zaman içinde kadere bağlı bir yabancı olan sizin varlığınızı hissediyorum. Çağlar sonra, varoluşumun mürekkep ve kağıda hapsedilmiş bir parçası olan bu mektubu keşfettiniz.  Sözlerimin sizde yankı bulup yılların ötesine geçen bir bağ kurmasını dileyerek, zamanda elimi uzatıyorum.   Calloway malikanesinin kalbinde, zarafet ve sırların ortasında, ben, Oliver Thorne, kendimi, hayatıma sonsuza dek şekil verecek bir aşk ve trajedi masalının içinde buldum. Ancak, bu hikayenin derinliklerine dalmadan önce, geçmişime bir göz atmama izin verin; beni bu ruhani dramın merkezindeki adama dönüştüren bir geçmişe.  Mütevazı koşullarda doğdum. Çocukluk günlerim, annemin kahkahaları ve ev yapımı ekmeğinin kulübemizde oluşturduğu rahatlatıcı aroması ile süslendi. O, benim yol gösterici ışığımdı, anlattığı hikayeler beni uzaklara, mü