Top Voted Fiction

I’ve been watching him for days now. When he leaves his house to go to school, I’m the one carefully tailing him, switching cars every day to make myself look less suspicious. If he ever sneaks out of his second-story room, I’ll be the one... (more »)

The number-one best-selling children's author of all time, R. L. Stine is most famous for the creepy Goosebumps series, and now The Nightmare Room series. Born in Ohio, Mr. Stine lives in New York City. Teen Ink thanks him for being part of the... (more »)

   Born Marguerite Johnson in 1928, Dr. Maya Angelou survived a segregated, violent childhood in Arkansas and left for a life lived around the world. Talented in dance and music, a civil rights crusader and professor, Dr. Angelou is best known... (more »)

     Now ye beholdThe tale of oldThat made our elders cry.The story ofTwo faithful lovesThat made two heroes die.The merchant’s girlHad skin of pearlsAnd glowing sapphire eyes.She walked with grace;Unto her faceThe... (more »)

   It was a working woman's dinner: spaghetti from a blue boxand vegetables from a plastic baggie in the freezer. But I couldn't blame her,the way we showed up, Annie with her, "Surprise!" and Travis with his,"Patty,... (more »)

   As her aged hands masterfully performed myfavorite Chopin piece, I was in my prime. Hammers massaged my well-kept stringsand the sound was magical. Though it was hard to keep up with her nimble skill,none of the beauty was lost.... (more »)

it has its hands around my throat the long metal fingers are clenched tightly restricting my ability to breathe if i move to attempt to release myself from this strangle it only clenches tighter tighter tighter until i feel as if i should... (more »)

"You sure you want to do this?" Said Chase my older brother. "Yes I'm sure," I said with a sigh. I had to sell my house. The house me and Chase had had lived in our whole life. The hose that brought me and Chase so close... (more »)

"Alexandra, lunch is ready!" "Ok, I'll be there in a couple of minuets." I say as I'm turning my iPod on full blast. "No, now!" I just sit back in my lawn chair on the porch, close my eyes, and... (more »)

THE HOUSE ON MULBERRY LANE They had a new swing set. White planks, plastic seats—creaking alone in the wind. Fresh piles of mounded earth sat dormant around the swing's posts; a shovel and pick lay discarded on the clipped green... (more »)