Tagged: PTSD

ptsd soldier stories 0

Sand – Part Nine

Short Story I blink. I’m in front of Maddy’s apartment, fully dressed, with my revolver tucked into my pants. My head is blank, wiped empty. All I can do is stare down at the...

ptsd nightmares stories 1

Sand – Part Eight

Serial Fiction   In the trashcan next to the desk, there’s an almost-full pack of cigarettes. There’s a thousand reasons for why I could have thrown it in there, but there’s only one reason...

story about someone with ptsd 0

Sand – Part Seven

Serial Fiction   She finished her drink and glanced over at me. Shifty-eyed and mouth hanging open, I probably didn’t look like the sanest guy in the room. “Max?” she said. “Are you okay?...

stories about ptsd soldiers 0

Sand – Part Six

Short Story I think I heard something pop, but I can’t be sure. Like, somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear a squishy membrane just split from sheer pressure. It’s not...

veteran short stories 0

Sand – Part Five

Serial Fiction “Yeah.” Maddy said. “I’m sorry.” “I know you are.” I twitched a little at that one. It’s something a teacher would say. Sure, they know you’re sorry, but you still aren’t getting...

stories about ptsd 0

Sand – Part Four

Serial Fiction I clocked out about ten minutes after I clocked in. Maddy and me tried to keep conversation, but the air was a little to heavy for that. We mostly just rode the...

stories of ptsd recovery 0

Sand – Part Three

Serial Fiction Madeline and I have been friends since middle school, sometimes more and sometimes less. After my discharge, I spent more than a few months drifting around Chicago, getting drunk when I felt...

short stories about ptsd, keyboard 0

Sand – Part Two

Short Story   I’ve been getting more angry than usual. Ever since I got home, the tiniest little shit can manage to set me off like a firecracker. I vaguely remember being an easygoing...

read suspense short stories online 1

Sand – Part Ten (Finale)

Serial Short Fiction   The elevator doors slide open, more quickly than I thought. Stepping into the lobby, I go cold. A sleepy receptionist is sitting behind a desk next to the entrance. There’s...