Jade Silver
Bio
Stories (14/0)
Wildflowers
Brittany sat on the swing in the garden, surrounded by the beauty that she couldn’t appreciate. Gone, her mother was gone. It had been a long fight; the pulmonary hypertension had started years ago. A shortening of breath, an inability to do the things she had once done, and ultimately being unable to breath. Idiopathic, that is what they had called it, idiopathic pulmonary hypertension. Brittany had looked up that word, Idiopathic, it meant no one knew where it came from, but Brittany knew. This had been how things had gone for her mother her entire life, test after test. Who was testing her, no one knew, but it had been going on since childhood.
By Jade Silver3 years ago in Fiction
The Trials
Dear Reader, thank you for taking the time to read my story. Can you do me a favor? If you like this story (or any story on Vocal) please hit the heart button. It is free to do and lets the authors know you like what they are writing. If I get 25 likes I will post chapter 3...since yes, I just keep writting because no, these characters will not shut up in my head! Happy reading :- )
By Jade Silver3 years ago in Fiction
Plastics
Being a science major is not for the faint of heart. Did you know you could spend three hours a week in a Music Appreciation class and earn three credits, but you could spend three hours a week in a science lecture hall plus an additional four hours in a lab, and earn only four credits? Seriously that is how it works. Sometimes you get the joy of being in a lecture and lab for 7 hours a week and you only receive three credits. Someone seriously needs to reevaluate this system.
By Jade Silver3 years ago in Earth
The Trials
******** #364: Dear Diary, I don’t know why I write that every time. It’s not like you are a person, because there are no more people. This is it! Me, myself, and I. I can’t even remember what it was like to be with other people. I stare into this heart shaped locket and I know this is my mother. I remember her. I remember she took me to a place called school. She drove a car. I must remember things like cars and mothers and schools. That is why I write in this stupid book so I can remember, remember a time when other people existed, when it wasn’t just me. It has been only me for nearly a year. I don’t think there are things like mothers or schools anymore, and soon there will be no more me.
By Jade Silver3 years ago in Fiction