Alexandra Garcia (She/Her)
Bio
Stories (10/0)
Find her
I am a creep. Well, I don’t know if my obsession was either too gory or too creepy. Current location: the cemetery. Status: just waiting. I type as quietly as possible in my blog. I live in a small town — too small and maybe it was the lack of exposure of a larger city is making me this way. Because here I am watching through vines of grass and secretly hoping it isn’t poison ivy and I am just waiting for him to come out.
By Alexandra Garcia (She/Her)3 years ago in Fiction
The second chance
July 23, 2021 I had no intention of opening it. I am the type of person who obsesses with everything I shop and whatever this package was; I hadn’t ordered it. I hesitated and left the package a full day in the mailbox before putting on my big girl pants and finally checking who was it address to. My hands were trembling when I saw my name and address. The handwriting was familiar, which gave me the strength and comfort of opening it. I frowned as I took the old rusted key from the package. At least there was a letter in there.
By Alexandra Garcia (She/Her)3 years ago in Fiction
It is not just a painting
“It is not just a painting,” you say to yourself. It is history, even if is only yours and your family’s. The farm is dying, there is no denying it. The barn that once was used for grain and wheat was converted into the horse’s living space, now is decaying day by day.
By Alexandra Garcia (She/Her)3 years ago in Fiction
The little match girl
The little match girl is not what you typically choose as a bedtime story. The ending can be heart wrenching depending on the emotional and mind state you currently are. I like to frame it in a different direction regardless of the ending. I even give the girl a name because to me this story is about Hope and Faith. In all honesty it depends on the day and the season when I change the character’s name reflecting what I need the most in the specific moment. Here is my retelling:
By Alexandra Garcia (She/Her)3 years ago in Motivation
“5”
All I have left from her is a wooden heart-shaped locket I made her while I was in my timber post. She was one of the chosen ones and I just stood there watching them take her. My feet were grounded to this place. It has been six months now and every time I walk past the wall I wonder about the terrors she might be enduring.
By Alexandra Garcia (She/Her)3 years ago in Fiction