Mariana Farias
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Stories (55)
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The Door That Only Opens at Midnight
It began with a rule. Not written. Not spoken. But discovered. ⸻ I moved into the apartment on a quiet Sunday afternoon. The kind of place that feels ordinary at first glance—neutral walls, wooden floors, and a silence that lingers a little too long between sounds.
By Mariana Farias2 days ago in Chapters
I Tried to Fix My Life… So I Took a Nap Instead
It all started with a plan. A simple, realistic, completely achievable plan. I was going to fix my life. ⸻ I had written it down the night before. Not in a dramatic, life-changing journal—but on a random piece of paper I found near my desk.
By Mariana Farias2 days ago in Humor
I Found a Door in My House That Wasn’t There Yesterday
It started with something small. Something so small that I almost convinced myself I had imagined it. A door. ⸻ I noticed it while walking through my hallway early in the morning, still half-asleep, coffee in hand. The light outside was soft, filtering through the curtains in thin, pale lines across the floor.
By Mariana Farias2 days ago in Horror
I Was Enough… Just Not For You
I used to believe that love was supposed to feel like certainty. Not perfection… but certainty. The kind where you don’t question your place in someone’s life. The kind where silence doesn’t feel like distance, and distance doesn’t feel like abandonment.
By Mariana Farias2 days ago in Poets
The Stranger Who Knew My Future
I first saw him on a rainy Tuesday evening. The kind of rain that makes the world feel quieter, like everything is holding its breath. I was sitting at a nearly empty café, scrolling mindlessly through my phone, trying to ignore the weight of another ordinary day.
By Mariana Farias2 days ago in Fiction
The Secret Number That Runs Reality
It started with a misdial. Dr. Elara Kim was running late to her lab, juggling three coffee cups and a tablet full of equations no human had ever solved. The numbers weren’t supposed to exist—they were theoretical, abstract, almost laughably impossible. Yet here they were, forming a pattern in the quantum noise, repeating like a cosmic dial tone.
By Mariana Farias3 days ago in Fiction
The Witch Who Rewards the Wicked
Everyone in our village knew the stories. Not the friendly ones that made children giggle. Not the tales whispered at fairs or around the fire. No—these were the warnings, the kind that left grown men shivering and women clutching their shawls.
By Mariana Farias3 days ago in Fiction
