Some days, I don’t feel anything for him. I feel detached and numb on these days, and I can look at him and not feel a thing, I just remember everything he’s done and hasn’t done, and I can’t feel a thing for him. Like he’s just a stranger.Some days, I hate him so much. I hate him in a bitter way. After all, he never gave me a chance and I’ve wasted years and years on him, when I...

For the past two and a half years, you all have known me as Dezza.There's something I need to come clean about.I am not Dezza, and I am not eighteen. My real name is Kara, and I'm sixteen. I've lied about my name and age on writing sites since I was twelve, because I was insecure about my writing and my age, and I was terrified that my friends would find my stories and ostracize me. When I was...

Once upon a time, there was a small town called Mibba. Everyone that lived there was exceptionally talented in the arts, especially in the art of word. Many Mibbians shared their stories in the town square. Newcomers would participate in this also, and once they became more comfortable with their surroundings, they began telling their own stories in the pub called 'The Journal Section'.The Elders...