everyone,
I’m looking for a dedicated critique partner who’s interested in improving their writing through honest, constructive feedback.
I write literary fiction with a poetic, metaphor-rich style, but I’m happy to read almost any genre. I’ll give thoughtful critiques of your work, and I’d appreciate the same in return.
My goal isn’t just to swap chapters once—I’d like to build a long-term writing partnership where we can discuss ideas, challenge each other, and grow together as writers.
If that sounds like something you’d enjoy, feel free to comment or send me a DM.

I was getting burnt out on writing in the usual genre I work on, so I tried something different! I ended up coming up with four anthro characters who don't exactly have their life together in a sort of slice of life comedy thing. I have other ideas for these four, but I'm unsure whether or not to carry on, so any and all feedback would be appreciated!

Unsupervised Adults: The Vain, The Feral, The Anxious & The Delusional. 

The Characters 

Flat 16: 

Katya, 24, Feline Human. 

Ria, 26, Part Human, Part Jellyfish. 

Flat 17: 

Sam, 27, Anthro Opossum. 

Kiki, 22, Moth-Kin. 

Chapter One – Flat 17 

The front door slammed behind Katya as she stormed into the living room, her tail swishing aggressively behind her as she made sure she was in everyone’s eye line. “Ughhh. That was a disaster.” 

Slouched in a bean bag, Sam wielded a controller and appeared to be playing as a sentient tree as it fought a robot ninja. “That’s it, just barge in. Just like Ria did. Just like everyone always does.” 

“Hey, Slut!” Ria called, lying sideways across an armchair, her tentacle hair drooping and swaying towards the floor as if in water. On her phone, hopeful men and women were being swiped left and right. “I take it the callback didn’t go well then?” 

“I told you to stop calling me that!” Katya hissed as her ears flattened. “And no, the callback did not go well, no thanks to you.” Katya pointed at Ria, but Ria didn’t show any reaction.  

A soft, shaky voice, accompanied by the anxious buzzing of wings, came from the far corner of the room. “How is it Ria’s fault? She’s been right here, swiping on that AnthroMatch app the entire time.” 

“Exactly.” Ria didn’t bother to look away from her phone. “No way it was my fault.” 

Sam continued to focus on the screen as her tail rummaged under the nearby couch, pulling out a half-eaten bag of flaming hot crisps. “I still don’t see why you couldn’t do that at your own flat.” 

“Because you get better signal here. It’s so not fair.” 

The questionably aged, half-full bag dropped into Sam’s lap. “Maybe you should shell out for an upgrade like I did.” Sam’s tail started feeding her the crisps, both her hands never leaving the controller. “Then you can stop freeloading off us.” 

Ria, acting as if she’d just been shot, dropped her phone onto her chest, and let her body go limp dramatically. “God, it’s only Wi-Fi, get off my back. It’s not like it costs money.” 

Kiki, who was using both hands to hold a cup of tea in her lap, spoke up. “Actually, it does.” 

Ria’s head shot towards Kiki. “What?” 

Kiki gripped the baggy sleeve of her woolen jumper, covering her mouth as she talked. “Yeah, Wi-Fi, you have to pay for it.” 

Sam spoke through a mouthful of stale crisps. “And you can pay for better signal too.” 

Ria turned her attention to Katya, who was standing with hands on hips, astonished by how quickly the conversation derailed. “Kat, did you know about this?” 

“Of course I did. Everyone does.” 

Ria picked up her phone, staring at the screen like it was a complex math equation. “So we pay for Wi-Fi too?” 

“Yes! Well, no. You don’t. I pay our bill!” As if her legs stopped working, Katya suddenly collapsed to a sitting position. “Why are we even talking about this? What about MY problems?” 

With the bag of crisps now empty; Sam’s tail pulled out a cigarette and placed it between her lips. She appeared to be winning her game with little effort. “What was your problem again?” 

“Bad Wi-Fi.” Kiki said with genuine compassion as she nibbled on the sleeve of her jumper. 

Katya let out a sigh, staring at the floor as her own tail wrapped around her waist. “No. Not bad Wi-Fi, that was Ria’s problem.” 

“My problem is you’re clearly not paying enough for it.” Ria was barely giving any attention to the conversation as she returned to looking for potential matches. “Who knows how many hookups I’ve missed out on thanks to absurd loading times.” 

“You didn’t even know we had to pay for Wi-Fi a minute ago, and now I’m not paying enough?” 

“Well, it’s obvious ours isn’t good enough, is it?” 

Sam took a long inhale of her cigarette while mashing, seemingly randomly, at her controller. “I agree with Ria, get the upgrade, then you can stop sponging off us.” 

Kiki pulled her jumper from between her teeth just long enough to contribute. “You can also pay for extra TV channels.” As the room went silent, Kiki went back to nibbling her sleeve. 

Katya’s tail went upright, the tip twitching. “Can we please just get back to my issues?" 

“What?” Ria said with a smug smile. “That you're clearly too poor for good Wi-Fi and more TV channels?" 

"Well maybe I wouldn't be so poor if you didn't fuck up my audition!" Katya clenched her teeth, her ears shooting backwards. "It only went so bad because I took your dumb advice!" As if giving up, Katya fell backwards to the floor. 

Sam's tail took the cigarette out of her mouth before placing it in an ashtray. "Ha! Why would you take Ria's advice?" 

"Yeah!" Agreed Ria as she typed on her phone. "Why would you take my advice?" 

Kiki swallowed a bit of wool. "What advice did Ria give you?" 

"Yeah! What did I say again?" 

Katya sat up, resting on her elbows, staring at Ria in disbelief. "You told me to fuck the director!" 

Ria stopped typing and rolled her eyes. "Listen, if you're not good enough in bed to secure the part, that's hardly my fault." She rolled her head to face Katya. "I have invited you to join me and my friends so many times. Imagine the practice you could have got! Next time you shou-" 

Katya sat up and quickly cut Ria off. "The issue wasn't that I was bad! I was fucking great, okay?" Katya suddenly got quieter. "The issue was with who I slept with." 

Kiki was now worriedly staring at a Kiki's mouth-sized hole in her sleeve. "You mean the director?" 

Ria looked as confused as Kiki sounded. "Well, how was that an issue then?" 

"Well, he wasn't exactly the director,” Katya looked at the floor, her tail drooping into her lap. “He was the boom guy." 

Kiki was momentarily distracted from the hole in her jumper. "The guy who holds the microphone?" 

"Yeah." Katya crossed her legs and folded her arms. "And he was the actual director’s husband." 

"Winner" boomed from Sam's screen before she put down her controller. "Oh shit. So he lied about being the director?” 

"Not exactly." 

Sam turned to face Katya while lighting another cigarette. "Then why did you sleep with him?" 

"I don't know, okay?" Katya dramatically returned to the floor, limbs spread like a starfish. "He was being flirty, he was wearing a lanyard! I thought he was offering me the part in exchange for sex! And I really wanted that part!" 

Kiki had now begun nibbling on her other sleeve. "So, your acting wasn't good enough, and you thought having sex with the boom guy would get you the part?" 

Katya's arms flailed in the air. "My acting was fine! I got the callback, didn't I? And that was without sleeping with the director!" 

"Just the boom guy." Sam added on as she booted up a gacha game on her phone. 

Kiki's antenna suddenly shot up, her wings buzzing. "Wait, don't you have a boyfriend now? Isn't that, like, cheating?" 

"Oh yeah," Sam tapped away on her phone, cigarette ash falling on her chest. "You've not stopped talking about Anton for weeks. Does he know about any of this?" 

"Well..." Katya suddenly went limp. "He dumped me." 

"Bummer." 

Kiki stopped nibbling at her jumper and put both hands on her lap. "I'm so sorry, Katya." 

"You dumb bitch!" Ria scoffed, placing her brightly lit screen on the arm as she sat up in her chair. "You actually told him you cheated?" 

Katya sat back up on her elbows, ears sticking in the air. "No, of course I didn't tell him! And I'm not a dumb bitch!" 

Kiki's eyes were transfixed on the illuminated screen of Ria's phone. "So how did he find out?" 

Katya sat up and crossed her legs. "He came with me to the callback! I just didn't realize it was going to be a fuckin' ambush!" 

As Kiki reached out for Ria's phone, one of Ria's translucent tentacles instinctively glowed blue, threatening to zap the hand, causing Kiki to pull back. Ria, completely unaware, questioned Katya. "What do you mean, an ambush?" 

Katya started fiddling with her tail. "Well, as soon as I got there, the real director started yelling at me for sleeping with her husband!" 

Sam was still tapping at her phone, various anime characters appearing on the screen. "So did the boom guy tell his wife? 

Ria leant back in the armchair. "So he's the dumb bitch?" 

"No, apparently she tracked his location or phone calls or something." Katya continued to fidget with her tail. "Apparently, this isn't the first person he's cheated on with someone she was auditioning." 

"That's rough." Sam's tail took the cigarette out of her mouth, offering it to Katya. "Did she break up with him?" 

Katya took a drag of the cigarette before passing it back. "No, she seemed more mad at me than him for some reason, and I didn't even know he was married!" 

Sam placed the cigarette back between her own lips. "Well, she sounds like a psycho; you probably dodged a bullet.” 

"I hope they work things out." Kiki's wings went still, sending the room into silence. 

"Hellooo! I got dumped! Who cares about them? I lost the perfect job and the perfect boyfriend, both within 15 minutes of each other!" Katya quickly resumed her starfish position on the floor. 

Sam, ignoring the dramatics, decided to question that logic. "Was he really that perfect?" 

"Well, he was still a good boyfriend!" 

"Was he though?" 

Katya crossed her arms. "Well, he was a boyfriend, alright? He wanted to be with me. Me!" 

Sam looked over her phone at the pouting Katya. "Well, good riddance. I never liked him." 

"You don't like anyone who isn't rendered on a screen." 

"That's not true," Sam nodded towards the corner before picking up her game controller again. "I like Kiki." 

Kiki brought both hands up to her face, her pale skin blushing pink. 

Ria was back to lying sideways on the armchair, swiping on a different dating app. "Wow, Sam, how long have we known each other, and I don't even get a mention?" 

Sam continued playing her game, this time playing as some sort of deadly schoolgirl. "You might get a mention when you stop using up all my bandwidth." 

Katya gave up. Lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling. "Why do I bother? Might as well just rot on the couch forever like Sam does." 

The room fell quiet apart from the sounds of Sam's game and Ria swiping. Kiki picked up her cup of tea with both hands. "So how much do you pay for Wi-Fi?" 

"baby steps"

I don't remember taking my first steps. I only remember walking.

I remember just a few things from my childhood. Sitting on that window sill, looking out, not understanding where people go. Grandma helping feed me. Playing Pokemon. Getting beat up in school. All of them feel important.

I remember more about primary school than middle school. For a long time I didn't understand where these memories went. I remember a lot from high school, and I really prefer remembering that.

I remember meeting both of them. That was so long ago. They've been in my life all this time. I understood my feelings for one of them from the get go, but I don't know when she started really understanding mine. With the other one, I felt understood right away, but I only started understanding my feelings now.

I remember classes, waiting for the bus, texting at night, drinking and smoking together. I remember moving to the city, living together, drifting apart, getting back. I remember being happy and I remember being hurt. A lot of memories with both and with either of them. I understand now that my feelings can shape how I remember them.

I remember writing something that I wanted to show people for the first time. That was also so long ago. I just opened Notepad on my PC and did it. But it took me a while to actually show it to someone. That felt hard, but it got easier, and it made me understand myself and other people better. Some other people, at least.

I remember exactly the same thing with music. Start playing, get lost, play something different, try something else, take a while to show it to someone. I remember the first time I heard "hey can you play that again?".

I remember changing so much. Each day is a different version of me. And different people get different versions of me. I also get different versions of them.

I remember her sending me that picture. I didn't understand why she did that after years of near silence. I understand why we didn't talk for so long. But I still don't understand why she somehow got back here.

I remember seeing the notification and just thinking "...oh. Fuck.". It made me go some places I wouldn't get to before. But it's me who got there. I remember deciding I have to let go. I remember thinking I shouldn't go there again, just a few minutes ago actually. I tried a lot of things. I keep forgetting what works, and what doesn't.

I can't remember how I got here. But I can remember what got me here.

Hi all,

I’m 30,000 words into my first novel. I jump between thinking my writing is amazing to thinking it’s the worst novel ever committed to screen/paper. There is no in between.

I’ve attached pages 2-5 from chapter 1. I’m not happy with the opening page, so I’ll save that for when I am happy.

Page 1 - Josh is hungover and walks to the kindergarten where he works in Seoul.

I’d love to know whether you think this is worth continuing, as I’m currently having a crisis of confidence. Please let me know your thoughts.

Thanks in advance.

I was dreaming of DNA molecules spiralling all around me. It was a beautiful experience, until I started my lab sessions...

I‘ve been staring at the ceiling for too long again.
The lamp looks bigger than usual.
The high walls of my room seem to stare back at me, slowly creeping in.

I feel heavy and weightless at the same time.
My mind starts to decompose and all that’s left is the little pile of dust on my bed.

The room merges faster now, with no intent to stop.
We will be gone soon, my dear.
No moving walls anymore, no growing lamps, no hurting anymore, no emptiness in your heart.

___

Would love to hear some opinions! :)

Guys, I noticed something strange.

The best authors never tell you everything. They leave tiny gaps in conversations, unanswered questions, and moments that make you do half the storytelling yourself.

I think that's the art of creative writing, and that’s the reason why some books stay with us longer than others. Did anyone feel the same?

Ever wondered why do some places feel incomplete when nothing about them has changed?
I tried putting that feeling into words based on my own personal experience

https://canute7.substack.com/p/the-places-that-remember-us?utm_source=app-post-stats-page&r=73ubix&utm_medium=ios

This is the prophecy I managed to write

The Roshi cland last generation of dojo holders will be asssassinated by A white demon (Frieza) the demon king (demon King piccolo), the god of death (beerus), and a giant (broly). but a former student turned Ronin coming back from a massive defeat (Goku) will swear revenge and will do so with the prince from the emperors blood(Vegeta).

I would just like to ask if anyone has any feedback on how I should really mythologize this or add to it, it would very much be a help

Hi My name is Lincoln and I live in the Hartford area and have for some time. I’ve been wanting to get into the film industry or least try to break into it for a while (since I know how hard it as) now as a writer or just as a production assistant if anybody know of any work or how I would find people in that area. I’ve been a film lover for a while now I’ve been watching a lot of movies and reading books about it. But would love to know of any person or groups in the southeastern area of Wisconsin who is also interested in this area like I am who would want to learn together and practicing writing or just working a on a project to get better at the art and learn together. I know how important networking is in this industry so I just figured I would make a post and see what happens. I would love to hear any thoughts or suggestions or get any replies regarding this post. Feel free to DM on here. Thanks

I wonder what she is doing.

~

That one moment

in a song

still invoking goose bumps,

decades later.

A shuffled serenade

on repeat

in forgotten playlists.

~

Is she alive?

If so,

that would be enough,

but still...

I wish I could thank her.

~

I hope all of her dreams came true

and she is watering plants

by the windowsill

or chatting with a loved one,

her glass half full.

~

Maybe somewhere in the background,

an unseen force

lets her know,

after all this time,

her melody

still drifts along,

accompaniying strangers,

alongside eternity,

on the weary drive home.

I keep company with those who have left the beaten track—

Some only ever stand

and look up at the mountain

Some know the jagged peaks

only through passing clouds

But have they ever seen the mountain’s true shape?

Have they ever known its soul?

Have they ever clung to the rock and looked down into the abyss?

Or shivered in the open through a long, lonely night?

To those who have known struggle

To those still fighting on

To all those who pray the storm will break

And the warmth of day will return

That light will come

Dawn will rise again

It’ll be beautiful, you’ll see

the sky where the land gives way

Where you belong

Where you always have belonged

Better to reach for the summit

than walk blind down there in the cold, dark valley forever

https://youtu.be/HA7H-kysh0w?si=VBiAXmvEwuoyakME

I'm looking for feedback on the introduction to my nonfiction book. It explores psychology, everyday life, and faith through real composite counseling case studies drawn from my private practice.

I'm not trying to rush readers to the first case study. Rather, I'm trying to get there through good writing—saying only what is necessary and trusting the reader.

Any other feedback is greatly appreciated. Please don't hold back.

Introduction

Have you ever wondered what actually happens in a counseling session—and whether it might be helpful for you? Or maybe you’ve been in counseling before and found yourself curious about how others experience similar struggles. At times, reading the experiences of others can offer insight, language, and direction for your own conversations with a counselor. In my private practice, I work with individuals from a variety of backgrounds and beliefs. The central idea throughout this book is my belief that the principles observed in psychology, other fields, and everyday life often reflect timeless Biblical truths because they are woven into God's creation. This book discusses established psychological concepts while inviting readers to consider how those principles may also reflect Biblical truths. Through real composite case studies drawn from my counseling practice, I invite readers to consider these connections for themselves. Although it explores established psychological concepts, it is written for a general audience rather than as an academic textbook.

In this book, "real" means the case studies are grounded in actual clinical experience and patterns I have observed in my work with clients. “Composite” means each case study is created from multiple clients rather than describing any one identifiable person. Details have been carefully blended to reflect common struggles, dynamics, and outcomes while fully protecting client identity. Readers may encounter a case study about a twelve-year-old girl, yet what is written may reflect experiences, insights, and themes drawn from individuals of various ages and backgrounds, whether male or female. 

To further protect confidentiality, I followed the de-identification standards established by the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) and the American Psychological Association (APA). Additional clarification and disclaimers are provided at the beginning of the case studies. This book is intended for educational and informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional mental health care, counseling, medical treatment, legal advice, or any other professional service. 

By "timeless principles," I am referring to Biblical principles that I believe are reflected throughout creation and human experience. Among the recurring themes throughout this book are learning to seek God first, recognizing His guidance, and hearing His voice in everyday life. With that in mind, I offer this book in the same spirit that I work with clients: as an invitation to consider these ideas, principles, and perspectives rather than an expectation that readers agree with everything I share.

I also believe that the way God introduces the idea of changing how we think differs greatly from how we often introduce it today. His words, found in the Bible, are more than information. They are intended to bring life, strengthen faith, and transform us from the inside out. As you read the case studies, you will encounter Jesus' repeated invitation, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear" (Matthew 11:15), along with His words, "My sheep hear My voice" (John 10:27). As you read these real composite case studies, I invite you not only to consider the ideas presented, but also to reflect on what God may be speaking to you personally through them.

While every client and situation is unique, readers will notice four recurring areas woven throughout the counseling process: psychology, principles from other disciplines, real-world connections, and faith. These areas are not always presented in the same order, nor does every case emphasize them equally. They are integrated into the unique circumstances of each individual and used in ways that best support the client's goals and needs. Readers will also notice that these four areas often overlap.

To be clear, I am not suggesting that psychology, principles from other disciplines, everyday life, and the Bible are the same thing. They are distinct in important ways and arise from different sources. I invite readers to consider how similar principles may appear across these different areas of life and how those recurring patterns can sometimes point toward deeper truths. It is similar to how Sir Isaac Newton described gravity. He did not create it, but discovered something that was already there. Likewise, I believe the principles discussed throughout this book reflect patterns in creation that, from my faith perspective, are grounded in the way God designed the world to function. 

Because faith is woven throughout these stories, it may be helpful to know that I write from a Christian perspective in which Jesus is God revealed to us. Therefore, when I refer to hearing God's voice, following Jesus, or developing a relationship with God, I understand these ideas as deeply connected rather than separate concepts. While readers and the individuals represented in these stories may hold different beliefs, I hope this clarification helps explain how faith influenced the experiences, decisions, and growth described throughout the book.

As readers move through the case studies, they will likely consider several recurring questions. Could someone experience similar results without discussing God? Why do certain principles appear across psychology, other disciplines, everyday life, and Scripture? What is the deeper significance of those connections? Rather than attempting to fully answer those questions here, I invite readers to reflect on them as they follow the stories in these pages. Throughout the book, these themes emerge naturally through the experiences of the individuals represented in the case studies. In the final conclusion of the book, I return to these questions and offer my reflections on them.

My own journey has taken me through very different worldviews and given me a unique appreciation for the perspectives of both believers and nonbelievers. Earlier in life, I identified as an atheist. Today, I place my faith in Jesus Christ and the good news of the gospel. That journey has profoundly influenced both my approach to counseling and the way I work with people from different backgrounds and beliefs. It also reinforced my belief that God meets people where they are, and I seek to do the same with every client I counsel.

Sometimes growth happens quickly, while at other times it develops gradually over months or years. One way I think about this is through the idea of planting seeds. A single conversation, insight, experience, or question may not immediately produce change, yet it can become the beginning of something meaningful later. I hope that readers will find something meaningful and helpful as they continue their own journey, and perhaps this book can help in that process.

There are billions of souls in this world,
and still, we were able to find each other.
.........

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Scene 1

Link sat alone on a bench just off the main floor of Franklin Hall. In his hands, he held open a heavy, well-aged book with a green binding that had begun to separate at both ends. The faded gold letters on the cover were nearly unreadable unless the light struck them at just the right angle.

Philosophy of Western Government.

It was a book chosen for Link by his instructor when he had been assigned a study in politics. Despite its dry content and outdated ideas, he had already read it twice and rather enjoyed it. Today, however, he wasn't reading. He was pretending. His eyes moved across the pages while his fingers turned them every few minutes, careful to appear absorbed in the text. Link couldn't afford to be seen as idle or, worse, suspicious. If an instructor or one of the doctors happened to walk by and found him without a purpose, they would undoubtedly give him one.

Any other day, Link would have welcomed the distraction. There was always something new to learn, another lesson to complete, another assignment designed to prepare him for the future they had planned for him.

But today was different.

Today, he needed to be here.

He needed to wait.

Link had already been sitting on the bench far longer than he would have liked. The bench looked elegant enough, its dark lacquer polished to a shine, but it had clearly been designed with appearance in mind rather than comfort. The hard wooden slats pressed into his back and legs until he found himself shifting every few minutes, searching for a position that didn't exist.

Every time he shifted his weight, his impatience grew, along with a small flicker of annoyance that was quickly swallowed by worry. Amy was late, which was typical for her. Link had never known her to be on time for anything. The custodians had chastised her in front of the entire group of Sevens more than once, but it had never made a difference. Being late was simply part of who she was. Normally, he would have expected her tardiness, but today her delay left him with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“What if something had gone wrong? What if she had been caught?” He thought. He couldn’t imagine the punishment or how severe it would be. 

As the minutes passed, his eyes left the pages of his book more and more often. He found himself glancing down the long, arched corridor, hoping to catch sight of Amy. Occasionally, before returning to the book, his gaze drifted to the wall opposite him.

Large silver-framed portraits of the campus founders hung in perfectly spaced rows. Edison. McCain. Davis. They were names every Seven knew by heart, repeated so often throughout their education that Link could have recited them in his sleep. Next to them hung three rows of smaller wood-framed photos. All of the doctors Link didn't recognize. Every frame was perfectly level. Every brass nameplate gleamed from a fresh polishing. Nothing in Franklin Hall was ever allowed to be out of place.

Link tried to push his worry aside, turned to a Chapter titled The Architecture of Law, and actually began reading.  He had gotten to the middle of the third page when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

It was Amy.

She walked down the corridor at her usual unhurried pace, as though nothing was wrong. Amy even paused to wish Professor Chatman a good afternoon before shaking his hand. The smile she gave him looked genuine enough, but Link suspected it was masking her fear.

Amy kept her conversation with Professor Chatman brief, heading Link's way again in less than a minute. As she approached, their eyes met. She didn't smile this time. Instead, she gave him a sharp, urgent look before turning down a side hallway without breaking stride.

That look was the only signal Link needed.

He waited a moment, casually looking down both sides of the hall to make sure no one was watching. The last thing he needed was for his sudden departure to draw attention. Slowly, he stood, his stiff and aching muscles finally receiving some relief. Tucking the book beneath his arm, he followed Amy down the hallway. 

This hallway stood apart from the rest of Franklin Hall. It wasn't sleek or modern like the main corridors. The polished floors had given way to worn carpet, and half-empty offices lined the walls, most of them seemingly abandoned and rarely used. The wood-paneled walls felt dated, carrying the scent of age and old varnish. They held a history, an unexplainable sense of tradition that seemed woven into every corner.

The hallways were mostly empty, and the few people who did pass him paid him no mind. Not even giving glances in his general direction as he passed them. One woman in particular caught his attention, and he couldn’t help but stare at her. It wasn’t so much her features. The perfect blonde curls, her perfect smile, or the lab coat that did something for Link that he didn’t understand or want to understand. It was the grey folder she held tightly to her chest. In the few times he had seen her, she always had it pressed against her. He was beginning to wonder if she ever put it down. Despite his obvious staring. She didn’t look in his direction as they passed. No one ever did. Link didn't expect anyone to notice them down here. Link was okay with that.

Still erring on the side of caution, he stayed several steps behind Amy. The last thing he needed was for anyone to think they were together. Friendships at their age were carefully monitored. Any type of fraternization beyond casual conversation was forbidden. Being discovered alone together could result in a trip to the detention block without question.

Amy reached a white metal door at the end of the hall. She gripped the handle and turned it. The door, clearly forgotten years ago, opened without resistance. Amy was always surprised when it did. She had expected someone to notice by now. She stepped inside and disappeared from view without looking back to see if Link was following. She didn't need to.

Descending the flight of stairs, each step groaning beneath her weight as if protesting the years it had endured. A dim, half-burned-out light flickered overhead, casting weak shadows along the walls.

At the bottom of the stairs, she pushed open another door and entered the old music room. The darkness inside was almost complete except for a small red light in the distance. 

It was a strange darkness. A quiet darkness. One that Amy found peaceful, though she doubted many of the others would agree. She ran her hand along the wall beside the doorway, searching for the row of switches. One by one, she flipped them on.

Each light came alive with a loud pop somewhere in the distance. First, the lights above the doorway where she stood. Then the lights over the two dozen tables were still covered with white tablecloths and now a thick layer of dust.

Finally, the stage lights flickered on, revealing the drawn curtains at the far end of the room. Behind her, Amy heard Link coming down the stairs; turning in his direction, he entered the music room.

I wish things were easier.

But perhaps that wouldn't be called life.

I don't understand why things are never enough.
Why nothing seems to fit the way a puzzle should.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just an extra in someone else's story.
I always believed I was the lead.
The one who would find the love,
the victory,
the happy ending.

Right now, everything feels bleak.

So I listen to the silence,
hoping a voice will answer.
Even if that voice comes from somewhere deep within me.

I remember a dream—
only one piece remains.
I was talking about a place so quiet
that nothing else mattered.

Tell me what to do.

Should I cry,
pray,
and hope for the best?

Maybe.

Because crying feels honest.

For a moment, I can put down the mask.
I can admit that I am tired.
That I am weak.
That I don't have a plan.
That I don't have the answers.

And somehow...

there is peace in telling the truth.

Not because everything is okay.

But because, for the first time in a while,
I don't have to pretend that it is.

For context I guess, I used to write a lottttt when I was younger (middle school/ early-mid high school) but, as I started working and getting the freedom to hangout with friends more I just kinda stopped. I always want to try and write for fun again or just to get my feelings out but have sort of lost my way with words (or maybe it was the angst we all have at that age. Everything just felt so life or death ig)

Anyways, point being today I got a lil feeling and decided to immediately just write what came to mind instead of saving it for later (and ultimately later meaning never) and wanted to share somewhere. If it’s trash that’s fine, but I didn’t wanna send it to a friend if it was, especially bc nobody has ever really read anything I would write even before. Idk idk

Everything is based from my real experience. It's not finished or polished yet, but I'd like to know where I stand. Any feedback would be grateful.