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Is If Beale Street Could Talk Historic

Things We Don’t Talk About

——— I woke up to fingers running gently through my hair. At first, I thought I was dreaming, until the lullaby began. Low. Melodic. But wrong. It was that same language I'd heard through the walls, the one that makes your stomach twist and your teeth clench. She sat on the edge of my bed, I can’t see her face; it’s swallowed by the dark. But her hand keeps moving, slow and rhythmic, stroking my hair like she’s lulling something else to sleep. Her eyes are half-closed, swaying as she hums that twisted tune. And then I realize— I forgot to turn on my bedroom light before falling asleep. I kept my breathing slow and shallow, pretending to sleep. limbs screaming to move, to run, but something in me knows: Don’t let her know you’re awake. Don’t move. The singing stops. She sniffles. A choked, trembling sob leaks through her lips. She starts crying quietly, like she’s trying not to be heard. Like she’s afraid. “No...” she whispers, her voice cracking like a child’s. “He still dreams like a child… still soft…” I almost convince myself she’s sleep-talking— Until her hand suddenly tangles in my hair and pulls. I flinched and let out a sharp gasp. "Mama—!" She goes still. Her grip loosened… then shifts. Her fingers wrapped tightly around my trembling arms. Her face inches closer. I can smell her breath,..warm, wrong, too close. Her eyes are wide with terror. Her voice shakes as she hisses: “Don’t say anything." "Don’t say a word anymore.” I was too scared to speak. I couldn't even nod. She held me like that for a long, shuddering moment. Her breath was hot and ragged against my cheek. Her hands were too tight, like if she lets go, I’ll vanish. Her eyes darting around the room. Then, like a switch flipping, she goes completely still. "Mom?" I whispered, so softly it barely made a sound. She was at eye level with me. But she wasn't looking at me. She looked past me. Behind me.... No... no. It’s happening AGAIN. . This is not a safe novel. It's a collection of short, self-contained stories, each chapter unraveling a new descent, a different nightmare. Some stories are brief. Others not so. No heroes. No clean endings. Just answers that should have stayed buried. Read alone if you must. But don't say we didn't warn you. Reader Warning: This series contains psychological horror, disturbing imagery, death, and paranormal themes. Reader discretion is advised. Each chapter is a self-contained story, perfect for short, spine-tingling reads.
RongKing · 11.6K Views

STREETS RAISED ME

“Warri, I be real Warri pikin — na we go later run every street" The year is 2000 in Warri, Nigeria. Eleven-year-old Tony Black is suffocating under the weight of his family's distant privilege—a world of stern fathers, preoccupied mothers, and dismissive siblings. But the thick, humid air of Warri carries a dangerous, hidden truth, a reality his cousin, Kene, is about to expose. Kene, unlike Tony's family, is street-smart and unburdened by their rigid expectations. He promises to show Tony "how things really work around here." Tony is pulled into a clandestine world, far from his family's watchful eyes. Kene leads him to a dimly lit compound, a discreet hive of activity bustling with young men barely older than himself. Here, hushed whispers speak of stolen land and desperate self-preservation in a city that seemingly ignores them. Kene, a clear leader within this confraternity, unveils a map of Warri, transforming the familiar city into a battleground of marked territories and shifting alliances. Tony witnesses their raw anger, their fierce loyalty, and the injustices that fuel their desperate fight for survival—a sense of belonging his own detached family has never offered. The night shatters Tony's comfortable world. His opulent house, once a sanctuary, now feels like a hollow stage set, and his family, oblivious to his harrowing journey, seems alien. Alone in his room, the trappings of his former life feel meaningless. Kene's words echo in his mind: "This is our world, Tony. It's not always pretty, but it's real. And it's where we belong." Tony finds himself caught between two starkly different lives, embracing a dangerous double life: good at home, meticulously maintaining appearances, but undeniably drawn to the power and camaraderie of the streets. He knows one terrifying truth: he can never go back. The streets of Warri have claimed a piece of him, and he finds he loves that part more than any other. They will never let him go. (Warning: This novel is a work of fiction. It contains mature themes including crime, violence, cult activity, and moral conflict, all portrayed for the purpose of storytelling, cultural reflection, and character development. The book does not promote or glorify illegal behavior, but rather seeks to explore the psychological, societal, and emotional consequences of crime and betrayal, especially among youths growing up in challenging environments. The protagonist’s journey from innocence to criminal entanglement is portrayed as a complex evolution shaped by personal choices, betrayal, systemic failure, and environmental pressure. All characters, organizations, and events are fictional. Any resemblance to real persons or incidents is purely coincidental. Reader discretion is advised.) (Content Advisory: This is a fictional story intended for mature audiences. It contains themes related to personal struggle, societal pressure, street life, and the consequences of poor choices. The characters and events are entirely fictional and are not meant to encourage or glorify illegal behavior of any kind. The story follows the emotional, mental, and environmental challenges faced by young people growing up in high-pressure environments. Its aim is to raise awareness, spark conversation, and deliver a powerful narrative, not to promote violence or crime. Reader guidance is advised for younger audiences.)
Blackboi1997 · 4.7K Views
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