My name is Megan. In 1991, I was 16 and dating the boy I had always loved. I had not expected that my destiny would be radically changed by the arrival of Jessy. This 17-year-old boy attracts me from the first glance, even if he seems to be fleeing the whole world. Gradually, I get closer to him and discover him. One evening, I no longer resist and kiss him but he pushes me away before telling me his painful secret: he has been HIV-positive for a year. Since he had an unprotected heterosexual relationship. In 1991, all we knew about AIDS was that it was a deadly and frightening disease. Anyone who knows Jessy's condition rejects her. Will I do the same or stay close to him at all costs ?

English is not my native language, there may be some mistakes for which I apologize in advance.

It's funny how the world looks different when you know it will be the last time you ever experience any of its qualities. We live life in the modern world as repetitive and dull as possible – we forget that we are the creation of nature. I don't think I ever really grasped that concept. We are connected to each other in ways that were never thought possible – only imagined by the most creative minds – that allows me to instantaneously speak to someone across the world and hear of disastrous miracles as they happen no matter where they happen. We, humans, man, people, beings – whatever you like to call yourself or others – have become intertwined as a race. Becoming a machine society has separated us from the truth. The truth is that we are not the world; we think we are independent of the earth and its complexity and have become the host, bestowing ourselves the privilege of altering and commanding all that belongs to nature. Wow, I sound like one of those activists who glue themselves to streets and dye rivers or destroy works of art. I am not one of them. In fact, like most people, I quite dislike those people. It may be the fact that I am walking to a place where my eyes will capture life for the last time that I may have some understanding of what those delusional people were spouting. However, I still love the things we have created and the world we have formed. I don't hate the inventions we have made to better our lives – playing video games or binging movies are or were my favourite things. We are intelligent life forms and therefore have the right to build, innovate, create and imagine. It only occurs to me now that we have lost that flame in each of us that connected us to nature – to living. Have we lost humanity? I don't know if that is the right word; humanity is too ambiguations. Humanity means many things to many different people. Some believe it entails that we as humans have the ability to sympathise or emphasise – maybe, but I have seen other forms of life show care, love and empathy – others connotate humanity to man's means of creativity, to the power of imagination. I can see how this can be thought of as something unique to our race, yet how are animals able to build dams or nests, sing songs to their potential mate, create erotic dance rituals or learn new ways of gathering food if they did not possess this 'power of creation and imagination'. To be honest, I don't know what the humanity signifies. I only had a year of philosophy an undergraduate – one of those professors, I am sure, will provide ample insight on the matter. For now, let's stick with my thoughts on the matter. When I say that we have lost what made us human, I mean the fact that we forget to live. It seems that the only people who experience the amazing privilege of being human are artists – true artists, the ones that are mimetic, feared by Plato, admired by Aristotle, prised by Romantics and studied by scholars – people who work with nature and the rich. If we take away all our gadgets, careers and material goods, we resort back to being an intellectual living life form on earth. A form of life that has the ability to reflect on their surroundings and be in awe of the complexities they are a part of – to breathe. That is humanity to me: the ability to know that you are only human. That is precisely what I am engaging in now, the art of being human. While walking to my destination, I have no gadgets, no career I am pursuing and no material obsessions. I am breathing, seeing and feeling; because I am human, I am aware of this and can reflect on it. Because all that has been made mechanical has been stripped away, I have become more entuned to my base form, resulting in all my senses (which I have taken for granted) have been intensified. That, or the realisation that I will never experience the surreal around me, has made me more aware of them. Either way, I will enjoy this. Enjoy the cold air on my skin that has formed small bumps all over, sending a tingling feeling down my body. The hairs on my arm that never made themselves conscious to me are now alive, swaging gently in each direction as if they, too, have been given sight and, like children, are eyeing everything in sight with great amazement. My feet, who were only there to carry me to my monotonous destinations, are not free. Free wonder the ground like a mole – blind but sensitive and with precise direction. Best of all is my eyes. They are truly alive – maybe for the first time since I was a child – and are able to witness life. I don't remember the precise moment my eyes became dormant; I don't even recall my age. I do, however, remember how the world seemed to be alive in everything that came into my vision. I can see life all around me, from the trees to the wind, from the clouds to the small drops of water on each leaf, from the large soaring birds to the smallest insect – all alive and all experiencing life with me. My fingers also seem sensitive; I now realise I never paid attention to the textures around me. The bark feels rugged, and the soil ruffs with every particle scratching my skin. The thing I feel most is the rope in my hands. The fibres caress my fingertips, and their plaited nature is like speed bumps whenever my hand moves over them. It makes my heart race; I can hear it beat faster and faster as my destination draws near. Having monologued to myself again – however, this time, I did not mind – I feel like a modern Wordsworth, and unlike Odin, I have gained the knowledge before the act.

Yara works at one of the most influential companies. When she discovers the diary of her boss, she finds out that his behaviour is connected to an unknown disease. She is determined to help him behind the scenes. However, she has to pay the price when her curiosity leads to an inevitable betrayal.

Claire is a 15-year-old girl battling stage 3 blood cancer, with only one year left to live. Desperate to forget about her illness, she goes on a summer vacation with her parents. There, she meets a Korean boy and the two become friends, but their situation is complicated by the fact that they live in different countries.  However, she realizes he's closer than she thinks.

As their friendship deepens, Claire develops feelings for the boy, but she's afraid to tell him about her illness, fearing it will push him away. She tries to hide her pain and fatigue, not wanting to taint their time together with the dark cloud of cancer.

Despite the challenges they face, Claire realizes that the boy she's come to care for is closer than she thinks. Will they be able to make the most of the time they have left and create a grand love story, or will their heartbreaking circumstances leave readers in tears?

The story explores themes of love, loss, and the fragility of life, encouraging readers to cherish every moment and make the most of the time they have. It is a touching and thought-provoking read that portrays the characters' struggles and emotions in a raw and honest way.

In a world where the goddess has fallen, chaos strikes the world. Vigilantes become the law, and Tristan is out for revenge against all wrongdoing.

University was Erin’s chance to begin a normal life free from an emotionally erratic mother who treated her daughter’s chronic illness like a personal project. The mysterious disorder Erin had been born with not only threatened her life, but altered her appearance with traits that didn’t come from either of her parents. Icy white-blue eyes and exceptional height attracted more than second-glances in her rural California hometown. For eighteen years she was treated like a fragile doll who was the unspoken cause of everything broken in her family. Now in a dorm room shared only by a spider, Erin was able to redefine herself.

Symptoms of her illness flared just when she was finally feeling in control. On her dorm room floor she convulsed as a burning itch erupted from the nape of her neck, going down her spine and through her veins. As consciousness faded she was unable to recognize the imposing figure leaning over her. When Erin’s senses returned, she found herself further from home than ever before. In the house of a tall stranger, she discovered that her greatest wish had come true: her illness was cured. Although contrary to how she’s always imagined, the moment was far from the answer to all her problems. The stranger revealed that Erin’s birth and illness had world changing implications. Erin soon realized she was anything but in control of the chaos to come.

You were born dirt poor to a mother and father who loved you. You were orphaned at the age of eight because poverty is inherently precarious. Thankfully you grew up in a community that cared for you as best as they could. A community that raised you into the young woman you are today.

You live in a world that used to spark with life and hope and magic. Now there still might be magic but ... it's different.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story takes place in a fictional fantasy world full of fictional fantasy people. Also my take on the magic elements of the world  is heavily inspired by my religion of Lokeanism. I recognize that the motifs (is that the right word?) I used in this piece are not necessarily universal.

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This work is in the public domain and anyone can do whatever they want with it.

In 2021, New York, the city that never sleeps is ravaged by a fever that spreads though out the Big Apple, creating a nightmare of horror that never ends.

"Flowers didn't ask to be Flowers. And I didn't ask to be Me." She is like the one kind of flower that nobody picks in a park that is full of sunflower , and daisy whom everyone loves. She doesn't feel that she belongs. Everyone is telling her that they should be Her but she doesn't want to be Her. She didn't ask to be herself. She wants to be different , she wants to be a different person. *** Yvaine had a traumatic accident that caused her to have Dissociative Amnesia. Dissociative amnesia was formerly called psychogenic amnesia. It occurs when a person blocks out certain information, often associated with a stressful or traumatic event, leaving the person unable to remember important personal information. Finally after months of being in the Hospital because of therapy , Yvaine finally had the chance to go back home even though she still can't remember anything. She longed to find answers of who she are and what she does. Will Yvaine be able to handle the informations about her? Will she gain her memories back?

A boy who feels nothing, and a girl who feels everything...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

KELSIE ELLIS can't go anywhere without experiencing someone else's pain. Diagnosed with an acute case of mirror-touch synthaesthesia since she was little, one bad experience and she was automatically placed into a plain, five-by-seven padded room in Saint Michael's Institute under the guise of keeping herself from experiencing any more excruciating pain...  No visitors are allowed to see her outside of the staff, so she's alone with nothing but her thoughts and the endless silence, which could drive anybody crazy.

Until she gets her first visitor ever.

When 23 year old HUNTER BARRET—born with the inability to feel pain and emotionally closed off—is sent in to meet with her from a desperate request from his father, everything logical is thrown out the window...

Because when they touch, crazy things happen, and life as they know it has changed around them—for better or worse.

Is this new discovery a gift or a curse when their own hearts are on the line??

A blog that focuses on the writing of minority groups. These include stereotypes, issues, and portrayals of groups regarding gender, sex, sexuality, mental conditions and illnesses, physical conditions (invisible and visible), and religion.

This won't be updated regularly.

Will take suggestions and contributions from other Penanians.

Everyone's heard a picture is worth a thousand words, but when you only have a few months to live it can be worth so much more. Noah Prescott wanted nothing more than to be your everyday typical 15-year-old boy, but with stage 4 melanoma, he was anything but normal. Depressed and completely ready to give up on life, he has lost all interest in the world around him. That is until he meets Glenn Green, the dying boy with a sunny disposition. Unable to accept Noah's pessimistic outlook on life, Glenn sets out to show the younger teen that life might not turn out how he pictured it, but it can still hold so much beauty. That is, if you know where to look.