Belinda Grissam
Bio
I am a creative writer who enjoys the thrill of letting my overactive imagination roam freely. I find joy in writing fantasy, thrillers, and sometimes motivation pieces. I am a mother to 3 boys.
Stories (10/0)
Living a Life with Living-Dead Parents
Living a Life with Living-Dead Parents Dysfunction is a hidden word and characteristic many people have within their family dynamics. From childhood issues to adult avoidance and everything in between. Generations raise themselves in broken homes that seem whole on the outside. Pain-filled homes that no one knows exist. Yet the children carry that over with them to figure it out in their adulthood. Parents who do this to their children cannot care about anyone but themselves. Though many people suffer from this forbidden concept, I am going to share mine. My heart breaks for anyone who must go through anything similar to what I am going to share.
By Belinda Grissamabout a year ago in Families
Once In a Lifetime
A woman so sweet and divine is something hard to find. Though life has not been so kind to her, it left gifts of grace that adorned her face with a glow so sweet. When you meet her for the first time, it will be a once in a lifetime. Albeit you will not grasp that phrase at that moment.
By Belinda Grissamabout a year ago in Poets
Retention and Reality
The end of your first contract of service approaches in a matter of a short few months. Those years of your life you signed over to serve your country faithfully are now reaching their endpoint. Congratulations you made it! The decision you are faced with now: Do I stay or do I go?
By Belinda Grissamabout a year ago in Serve
Strength in Silence
You wake up every day to push yourself through the same routine, steps, job.. the same everything. Mental conversations occur on a regular with yourself to convince the person inside you to wake up and move on with each passing step and moment. Yet, that person inside you seems to be shrinking on a daily. The roaring voice you once had, is now the small trembling sound of a child hidden somewhere in your being. Eventually, it will become the sound of a squeaking mouse, and maybe even be snuffed out. But is that something you are ready for?
By Belinda Grissam2 years ago in Motivation
MYSTICAL DRAGONS
There weren't always dragons in the valley. Dragons didn't appear until a few years ago according to legend. Stories told of their fiery breath that blew across the sky sending waves of red, blue, yellow, and black against the stars late at night. Golden flames danced during the daylight as if they were dancing the tango with the sun.
By Belinda Grissam2 years ago in Fiction
Dear Mom
Dear Mother, The time has come once again for the glorious day of celebrating mothers. Now that I am one myself, I know the joy it feels deep within knowing I am responsible for the creation of life, three times over. From the moment of seeing those two pink lines, feeling their first kicks, the fear of the unknown when bringing them into this world, and all the trials and ecstatic feelings that come with it. However, I know this joyous feeling every day of my life since I became a mother. The feeling of knowing my children are safe, warm, fed, and taken care of brings light to my life in many ways that are indescribable often.
By Belinda Grissam2 years ago in Confessions
Humanizing the Rank
Dust covered, weather beaten, brown leather boots laced up tightly with camo pants bloused neatly over the tops. Flag on their right shoulder sleeve lined up neatly centered. Unit patch gracefully displayed on their left shoulder sleeve. U.S. ARMY delicately placed over their heart on the uniform they wear. The last name they carry placed center on the right side of their chest. Specified rank position displayed center mass on the uniform. Hair neatly secured and tapered to sit neatly and presentably under their broken-in patrol cap.
By Belinda Grissam2 years ago in Motivation
DownDrift
Tires squealing could be heard ringing throughout the thick forest. Sirens blared off in the distance. Many voices collided with one another as words were shouted in the air. I stood still waiting for the right time to move. I needed to grab the hanging branch above to climb up the tree as quick as I could to be out of sight.
By Belinda Grissam2 years ago in Fiction
GHOSTS of LOCUST FORK
GHOSTS of LOCUST FORK Gusts of wind whipped through the trees shaking the nearly barren branches roughly sending a sudden shower of large rain drops downward. The cool fall air briskly made its way across the southern state of Alabama. Orange, gold, red, and brown leaves lay scattered all over the forest floor. A passing torrential storm had beaten the leaves from the branches they once clung too. Early October set the forest ablaze with the fiery glow of many autumn spectacles. Squirrels scurried under foot as we continued walking the path toward the river. Oh, how the water was always so soothing with air so crisp and sweet no matter the time of year.
By Belinda Grissam3 years ago in Fiction
