Find your next favourite story now

Suffering Stories



The world can be cold when you're alone…

I watched as the homeless man collided with her. “Spare some change for a cuppa coffee?” Lois looked at the ragged man, then seemed to melt. “Sure. Wait a minute.” She opened her pocketbook, rummaged around, and came up with a five dollar bill, which she...

The Fool

In search of friendship, i'm always the fool by my caring nature upon others ...

I'm tired of being made a foolof those silent nightsmaking my mind think terrible wordsa friendship blossomingbut just like the flowers that grow with waterit all withers and dies in the endwords once spokenof opening oneself to a brave new world of someo...

The Smiling Mask

This mask I wear, hides the truth of what lays beneath.

This smiling mask I wearUpon my face for you all to seeHides the anguish beneathAnd the swelling tears in my eyesWhen I look in the mirrorIt's not the one you see before youBut the real face beneathAnd that truly scares meThe harsh cold that surrounds meO...

He sits and screams at nightVisions consume his dreamsFighting with no lightHe remembers all the screamsDeath all around Shells of bullets thereBodies on the groundEverybody saying prayersFear is all that's feltFighting all through the nightTakes his cant...


A betrayal that leads one man upon a journey of forgiveness to a special place!

The story you are about to read contains mature content that some may find offensive.By choosing to read this piece, you agree that you are 18 or older and do not object to this content.  I wonder often, what do you all think of meTo suffer in pain, many...

Get Free access to these great features

  • Create your own custom Profile
  • Share your imaginative stories with the community
  • Curate your own reading list and follow authors
  • Enter exclusive competitions
  • Chat with like minded people
  • Tip your favourite authors


What's real?

Yesterday I was optimistic as the sun, broad as the sky, impish as the morning mist. Now I bleed, slowly, like a finger through my letterbox. Today,the sky-hooks are embedded in my fllesh again, and I am dead inside.


The future is bleak.

The rainwhich beatsupon the glasspoints thewayto poisongas. The sunwhichwarms the stagnant poolgoes down atduskand leaves itcool. The cloudsmushroomingoverheadtell us there’smuch more todread. The lightning strokewhich tears theskycarries deathto low and...


The past catches up with us

once I watchedjust afterduska hugeflock of birdsfly massively froman old mildewed pier.deserted it was;the pier I had sat therein itsstinking mould for manyyears,friendless and alone.then the birds,crows I’m sure,(though they say crowsonly roost i...