family

Family unites us; but it's also a challenge. All about fighting to stay together, and loving every moment of it.

The Half Penny
Darlene walked through the door with a heavy feeling in her chest. The house was empty and dark. She couldn’t believe that her grandma Dorothy was really gone. Dorothy raised Darlene since she was just 9 years old after her parents got killed by a drunk unlicensed driver on their wedding anniversary. They were on their way to the airport for a romantic trip to Paris... Even though she was just a child, Darlene was old enough to know what had happened and it broke her heart forever. She only had her grandmother for most of her life and loved her more than anyone in the world. Losing her was truly devastating. The past few years had been a series of hardship and misfortune for Darlene. She was in the middle of a divorce after being married for 6 years. She also lost a child to a stillbirth a couple years back. Darlene sank deeply in depression, making her unable to work, so she left her job as a school principle.
By Daniela Dimitrova5 years ago in Humans
Color Theory
The first splash of color was always the hardest. Roy had been a hobbyist painter for what had become his longest love affair—twenty years and counting—but every time he faced a new blank canvas, there was a shyness to the way he would first begin to dribble paint across the white face before him. It was new, it was exciting, but there was also the undercurrent of worry: would this in fact be the painting that broke him?
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Humans
Rosa’s Choice
Until two weeks ago, Rosa has always slept so deeply that her Abuela accuses her of stealing sleep from the dead. Accused, she corrects mentally. Past tense. Where exactly does correcting grammar fall on the five stages of grief? She doesn’t know. She only knows that the sun is about to kiss the horizon and begin another sweltering day in her corner of the desert, and that Abuela is not here to see it.
By Jackson Eaton5 years ago in Humans
Vicarious
Vicarious My tired eyes awoke to the peeling paint on my bedroom wall being illuminated by the rising sun. The humid air dampened my lungs and provoked a coughing attack. I stumbled for my oxygen mask but couldn’t muster the strength. My mother barged in and frantically attempted to get the mask in position, most mornings were like this now. The worst part wasn’t the pain I felt, but rather the fear in my mother’s eyes. Her fear used to come and go but lately her panic didn’t seem to leave her. My coughing attack ended and I convinced my mother to leave, trying desperately to hold onto what little independence hadn’t been stripped away from me. Whatever hope my family had died last year when we found out the deductible to join an experimental treatment program in Texas was $20 000 American dollars, I don’t think my parents even had $20 000 pesos. My father worked twice as hard to make up for my mother being stuck at home babysitting me all day but that still left us living below the poverty line. It was hard enough as is to get ahead in Mexico, let alone with a liability for a daughter. My parents often thought of immigrating to America but with my condition, chances of us getting approved for residency was low and the taxpayers there can barely pay for their own medical treatment let alone the treatment for an immigrant. I’m sure the thought of illegally immigrating crossed their minds before but between my impairment and carrying an oxygen tank, I’m not sure how sneaky we could be.
By Gracie Evans 5 years ago in Humans
Hidden Truths
I stared down at the dirt. The many emotions felt like a hurricane inside of me and I just wished it would calm down. My brother was too young to die at only 27 years old. The police said he was shot and everything was still under investigation. I couldn't understand how there was a person evil enough to shoot Daniel. He was the kindest most loving person I had ever known.
By Shannon Pitzner5 years ago in Humans
Vicariously yours, Esther
I loved my aunt Esther. She had a keen and curious mind, a tolerant and easy going nature, and a seemingly endless fascination for her fellow human beings (with the possible exception of my mother).
By Janet Findlay5 years ago in Humans
A Growth Story
Part I: Prelude to an opuscule As the dawn began to break, I opened my eyes at the usual 5:30am. I made my way down the narrow flight of stairs to the main living area of my walk-up maisonette in central Amsterdam. The serene stillness of the early mornings captivated me in ways only a hopeless romantic would understand, as the birds began to chirp their morning song.
By Sherrann Thiessen5 years ago in Humans
The Burning Secret
There’s this reoccurring dream. It started back when I first got the house and the money. Looking back, it wasn't much, but enough to matter. Plus, looking around this place, it's chock-full of memories. My favorite has to be right here in the kitchen. A little tot was lifted up by dad and sat on the quartz countertop to eat some grilled cheese sandwiches. The smile on that little ones face, that feeling is unforgettable.
By Trevor Purcell5 years ago in Humans
How Anorexia Saved My Life
I grew up watching a lot of cooking and food orientated shows. It all started with my favourite day. Saturday, every Saturday me and my father would watch man vs food on tv gradually over the years it became an obsession of mine without me even releasing it!
By Mimi Sparkes5 years ago in Humans
She Wished
She was the first to see him. He slipped through the sliding glass door to the living room behind a couple girls that had been outside smoking. He wiped his hands down the front of his black hoodie and scanned the party. His hair was damp but still blonde. His skate shoes looked wet but he shuffled them gently on the carpet to dry the soles. When he looked up and across the room, his ice blue eyes locked her in place. She didn’t notice the search light slowly panning across the glass door that was opaque with condensation but it backlit him, for just a moment, like a shadow dancer.
By Kat5 years ago in Humans
A Crafted History
James Connolly stood at five feet four inches. Following a long night at his preferred pub, Mr. Connolly returned to his New York apartment. He stumbled up his building’s stairs with little form and great difficulty. James slammed into his front door. The hinges buckled and shivered.
By Cade Richmond5 years ago in Humans
The Grandchild Book
Tuesday Just like in every other abandoned building she has picked through, she cant help feeling like a voyeur. The ghosts of a dead era soaked into the walls and succumbed without a fight. Towards the end of that era, before her own mother was born, people found some very creative places to hide what they held dear. All these years later, treasures were still being freed from their long concealed hiding places. Finding them was Daitra’s job. She liked to think of herself as an Archaeologist Scavenger Extraordinaire.
By Rima Khalek5 years ago in Humans