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Write about someone who self-publishes a story that was never meant to be read.

Posted in Short Story on Jul 4, 2025

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✍️ 49 stories

an alter plays hangman

Submitted to Contest #310

(Warning: This story is about mental disorders, implied suicide attempts, and self-destruction.) “You were not meant to do that,” a voice in his head tells him. “It’s fine,” he says. “It’s a good story, something that’ll get me going.”“It’s not yours,” another voice snaps.“Yeah, but I read it, and it’s in a handwriting that looks like mine, so…”“Jesus Christ.” The second voice continues. He’s never lonely without them. The draft feels heavy, like it refuses to open no matter how many times Renato tried to reread it. He doesn’t really know wh...

8 likes 3 comments 3
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NO ONE DESERVES THIS

Submitted to Contest #310

To my saviorI am so sorry. I thought I was stronger. I thought I could endure it. But I am not a strong man. Many before me have tried yet none have succeeded. If you are reading this then you must’ve already found yourself in the Endless library. I don’t know the proper name of the place but it's what I’ve called it for the last twenty years. This place demands an occupant, it demands a prisoner, a keeper, a librarian. You’ve undoubtedly panicked already and dropped this book and tried to run away. But the halls are endless and the shelves ...

8 likes 0 comments 0
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The Missing Boy

Submitted to Contest #310

It was a rainy, tepid morning, the day that Ralphie Alcott walked into my office wearing tattered clothing and hooded eyes. He had been missing then for over twenty-three years but at the time, he was just another man I felt needed a shower and shave in the worst way. He walked in, sat down without my asking him to and before I could say a word he had thrown down a slim black book. As he looked at me as if I knew what should happen next, I noticed something that looked like crumbs were littered throughout his thick, overgrown beard. “Can I ...

7 likes 0 comments 0
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The Gift

Submitted to Contest #310

It was a murder. Stocky with a strikingly black appearance, their attributes were typically glossy and slightly iridescent, sometimes showing hints of purple or green in the bright light. Their eyes, a series of pale irises with a subtle blue eye-ring, stared down at them. “I sense they are watching me,” she said, her youthful features downcast, her fine long blond hair tucked behind her ear. “What’s the logic in calling a collection of crows a murder?” I asked. “Because as a collective they appear ill-omened?” Her choice of words. “Crows a...

5 likes 1 comment 1
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The Fifth Draft

Submitted to Contest #310

Bur Dubai was quieter than usual. Maybe it was the mid-July heat or maybe just George’s mind slowing down after his final day at the EPC firm on Sheikh Zayed Road. Thirty-three years in instrumentation. Sixteen of them in Dubai. Today marked his retirement. His farewell lunch had been brief but heartfelt—vegetarian special thali and butter milk at the Malayali restaurant near the office, colleagues snapping selfies around him, clinking steel tumblers in his honour. No big speeches, just a nod to the man who always had the cleanest wiring dia...

5 likes 1 comment 1
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The Story Without an Author

Submitted to Contest #310

The overhead fluorescents hummed their familiar dirge as Elysia adjusted Mrs. Chen's pillow. The old woman's breathing had settled into the shallow rhythm that meant days, not weeks."There," Elysia whispered, smoothing the blanket. "Better?"Mrs. Chen's eyes fluttered open, unfocused but grateful. Her hand twitched against the covers, and Elysia caught it gently, feeling the papery skin and bird-bone fingers. How many hands had she held like this? How many last breaths had she counted?Her phone buzzed. A text from her brother: Still coming to...

3 likes 1 comment 1
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A Killer's Own Ruin

Submitted to Contest #310

Got photosensitive epilepsy? Step into the dreary town of Ruinridge, where even the highest dose of prescribed valproate won’t save you from the seizures bound to get triggered. You will be met with merciless policemen— relentlessly flashing their illuminances down the gloomy streets— and residents with chilled expressions permanently plastered across their faces’. All of whom are waiting for me to strike again. Slaughtering people, particularly those who make a distasteful presence in my life, has been my favorite side hobby for the past f...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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Think of Spain

Submitted to Contest #310

Think of Spain By Gisela Echevarria Today is the day that will set my future in stone. I will finally be able to move forward—one way or another. The choice for my future is completely out of my hands. I open my laptop and sign in to see my submission. The writing contest is finally announcing the winner. Not just any contest the Best International Writing Contest. This is my chance at freedom. To go to Spain. To live among like-minded creative minds. To be free of this monotony. My hands tremble as I type in my password. I will either conti...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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Fate's Whisper

Submitted to Contest #310

The story left me, as the ones who heard it before me, muzzled. It was a story meant to stay in the shadows, carried only by whispers, but even stories like this creep to the surface if left alone to fester. At night, when my eyes surrender to the darkness, I dream of the story that consumes my mind. It is the story that convinces me that the only way to shatter the chains that imprison me is to publish it. After weeks of wearing me down I surrender and I take it to my editor with desperation. He slowly takes it from my hand. Usually he is r...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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My name is PAI

Submitted to Contest #310

Congratulations! Your book is published! A smile cracked across John’s face. Sure, it was self published on Amazon, but he’d spent close to five years and three months writing, editing, rewriting—and crying, which he won’t admit, to get it finished. He’d also done it without using AI.Now it was out there.John clicked through the menu and found the marketing options. He’d budgeted enough for a modest marketing campaign and he’d planned it out so that it all hit at once. When that was finished he pulled up his socials on his phone and put out ...

2 likes 1 comment 1
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I don't know love

Submitted to Contest #310

The old man emptied the drawers of the cabinet that had long accompanied his life. The stories he had written were somewhere in there, a draft of a romance, an outline of a children’s book, a poem he wrote while waiting in a doctor’s office, the book idea he had in the middle of the night that was never written, the stories that were shaped by his life. After all the time, the cabinet was falling apart. The old man had restored it a few times, but the damaged parts could not be recovered. Now, the bottom drawer, almost empty, holds the pl...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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The Aftermath

Submitted to Contest #310

To think all I needed for my career to finally take off was to accidentally sell my deepest darkest secrets to the publishing house. I'm not proud of the things I did, the things I wrote about, or the fact that they're out there for the whole world to read. I would never have even dreamed about publishing some of those things before last summer. If it weren't for the fact that I'd mixed up the attachments in that email to my publisher, no one would ever have known and I would still be a no-name ghost writer for a cheesey smut company. It ...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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Never meant to be seen!

Submitted to Contest #310

Hi, my name's Ella and I've just finished writing a story, well I call it a story but it's more of a diary. It starts out with the diaries I had under my bed. I'm not publishing though....they are far too intimate for that. I'm not ready to feel this again, but maybe I never stopped.I thrive on loneliness, I'm studying open learning and work in the local library, sounded by other people's stories when I've got my own story ,but still quietly unable to share my own.I joined a site as part of my open learning, the story was a prompt " write a ...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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The Best Seller

Submitted to Contest #310

Rick’s hands shook as he held the thick book in his ink-stained hands. He marveled at the deep red cover and the large white block letters, his name printed across the top. The best-selling author. He signed the fan’s name with a note, shutting the book and handing it back to them, meeting their eyes. Rick glanced at the long line of fans waiting for a signature.It was then that the clang of commotion startled everyone, the sounds unfamiliar to the modern world: bells and chimes of an old grandfather clock that stood against the wall of the ...

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The Story That Shouldn’t Have Been Read… Until Now

Submitted to Contest #310

The Story That Shouldn’t Have Been Read… Until Now When I finally pressed “publish,” I had no ending in mind. I’d stitched this story together over twenty-four frenetic months—rough sentences scrawled on coffee-stained napkins, creased receipts, the backs of old court filings. Every fragment was soaked in midnight panic, swollen with grief so raw it clawed at my throat, laced with an anger I tasted on my tongue. It was, I told myself, pure invention. A safe exorcism about the day my little sister, Callie, vanished without a trace. I didn’t p...

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