Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian
Bio
Stories (23/0)
Intergalactic Cadence 364
1 No one can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Yet every single night, those exact parallels are broken. Blake knows he is ten years old in his reoccurring dream. Every night he dreams of awakening in a nap pod with the LED lights blinking red. He does not hear the robotic voice making an announcement because his ear buds died hours ago. Looking around he realizes all the other pods have emptied. Sliding out of a nap pod quickly takes a certain kind of athleticism. Blake doesn't hesitate but runs full speed as soon as his feet hit the floor, passing each pod in a frantic search but not finding anyone else. He begins to panic. Every sense is enhanced like he has shifted into his highest gear of functioning. The sight of dried tear stains on a pillow case in pod G, the lingering scent of a piece of gum in the air near Q pod, and the blood trail on the floor made Blake "come to his senses". His vision seemed to become crystal clear almost as if he could track a source of heat with his eyes. Yet none strong enough to lead him anywhere, those trails had gone cold before he could ever sense them.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian2 years ago in Fiction
Big Al
My father endured so many hardships in his life, still, he is the most light-hearted person I know. He continues to have all the typical dad jokes, punch lines, and funny insults. His great sense of humor has stayed intact throughout everything he has been through. As my main supporter throughout my life, he has instilled in me the best qualities of who I am today.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian2 years ago in Families
Cold Cucumbers beat the Summer Heat
Growing up, I always loved a summer side dish I thought my mother had created. She would slice up cold cucumbers into a large bowl, adding sour cream and salt. I loved mine served with extra salt and the moisture of the cucumbers made the sour cream a thin dressing. Cold, crisp, crunchy, and refreshing on a hot summer afternoon. It was one of her sides she would make in large bowls, along with her potato salad and macaroni salad, to bring to family reunions, barbecues, and parties.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian2 years ago in Feast
Buster
Growing up on a farm his whole life, William always had farm animals as pets. The farm bred many livestock that helped his family survive financially. The children helped raise the baby farm animals and William always favored the bulls. When the first calf was born on the farm, William's family knew it would be his pet. William wanted the calf to be a boy and helped bring the animal into the world. He named the small bull Buster and cared for the animal daily.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian3 years ago in Fiction
Love for Sugar
He was 7 years old when his parents took him to the Camden aquarium for the first time. His favorite attraction was the shark tank that you could put your hands into and touch the fish. The first time his little hands ran across the sandy feeling skin of the tiniest shark with the injured fin, he felt invigorated. It became their weekend ritual because he enjoyed the trip so much. People would say it was sensory issues because of his diagnosis, but he didn't care.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian3 years ago in Fiction
To you, From me
Ida was 84 years old and lived alone in the house she had purchased with her late husband, Harold, when they were first married. His clothes still hung in his closet, his favorite chair still right next to hers in front of the tv. He had passed away peacefully one night in his sleep, and Ida missed him dearly. She had spent every day with the love of her life, since her 16th birthday, until he was taken from her 2 years ago. She kept every card and every letter Harold ever wrote her, and each time she read them she cried. Her children tried to console her, but the holidays had been especially hard. When her son, Dan came to fix the shelf in the basement that held her jarred preserves, he told Ida she should plant a special plant for his father in her prized garden. Ida thought it to be a great idea and followed her son into the basement to oversee the project.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian3 years ago in Fiction
Revenge for Cake
As soon as their father remarried, they both were doomed. Gwen married their father for his stature, she wanted a foot into the elite crowd he worked closely with. Gwen hosted party after party for his business associates. Without fail, Gwen would make her homemade, delicious chocolate cake covered in chocolate frosting. The children were never permitted even a small taste. They were to be seen but not heard, and to act as small servants when the business parties were happening. Bringing drinks, serving plates, even dishing out the desserts was what was expected of them.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian3 years ago in Fiction
Barn Owl
Sherman Dill was sentenced to 12 months as an inpatient of the criminally insane ward, in the Greenfield Mental Hospital. This was for his first offense resulting from his arrest on his seventeenth birthday. He was driven straight from the courthouse to the hospital two states away. He was not permitted to say goodbye to his family, nor pack any of his belongings. Upon arrival, even though heavily sedated, Sherman took in every visible detail possible about the facility. On the drive up the long lane leading to the large facility, he took mental note that there were three other smaller buildings behind the main building. The hospital seemed to be four stories high but only the top three floors had bars on the windows.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian3 years ago in Fiction
DAY 2
DAY TWO: Innocence Lost Q was raised and trained by survivalist parents, so the past year spent underground was utilized to practice the survival skills she had been taught during her short life. She wasn't sure which of the many possible scenarios had caused them to put their plan into action but she knew it was the day following the day she turned 9 years old. Her memory of that night still haunted her in her sleep, it was nothing like the drills they had practiced together as a family. The days ran into each other, there was only the mundane routine to keep to a schedule. The first six months were spent underground together trying to keep supplies lasting and senses sharp.
By Bridgette A Mercer-Jamgochian3 years ago in Fiction