Norma Jane
Bio
Instagram: @mayurwordsbearfruit
Stories (31/0)
- Top Story - January 2022
Hectic High School Days, Part ITop Story - January 2022
I moved to New York two months ago, trapped in a U-haul truck with a million thoughts running through my head. I remember sneaking stares at my sister Georgia from the passenger's side. I watched her tears fall but didn't say a word. I remember our Mom saying that we couldn’t come back to our Tennessee home. My heart felt like a dozen knives just pierced through it. I was convinced that nothing will take away those memories of twirling in the blue grass, or watching myself grow from a southern babe to a rough-housing tomboy through the reflections in my mother's vintage full length mirror.
By Norma Jane2 years ago in Fiction
Enchantment of Kara
Eyes as dark as the night stalked the trees, tracing the steps of Kara between the entangled enchantment of branches. The air was crisp but Kara showed no concern. Her legs pumped in front of her while her feet struggled to be the motivation she needed. Among the surroundings, susurrated voices ruffled the hairs on Kara's neck. Despite the quieted tension, the fear raged in her ears like the malediction of the witch's past. Her minions are the unearthly woodlands that carry her legend. Her own eyes swamped and fidgety, peeled through leaves and shadows no other could. Scratches seared her skin and the soft white fabrics of her dress were snagged and snatched.
By Norma Jane2 years ago in Fiction
Return of the Shadows
Cheyenne came back home to Shiloh, where she grew up since the 70s. She was 21 and had just finished college. After experiencing the hardships and highs of the bridge between her old life and a new one, Cheyenne thought it was best to get in touch with her roots. She even thought to give up her apartment in Kansas City and move back into her hometown, but something told her not to make that decision just yet. “Let’s just see how the summer goes,” she told herself while driving past a sign that read, Welcome to Shiloh: Where Everyone Belongs. Cheyenne reached for her radio, looking for any station to play the right song. Finally, she found one blaring the familiar tunes of Paradise City as she followed the road that led her back to her family home. It was only a few moments when she entered the uniformed neighborhood where the same family home came into view. As soon as she parked her car in the driveway, she hopped out and pulled her bags out of the trunk.
By Norma Jane2 years ago in Horror
There Is Nothing Like A Long Drive Alone
On a daily, I take an Uber back and forth to campus. Although, it would be better if I had my car. Still, I make the most of what I can afford now. Uber drives are fairly enjoyable, especially with drivers who follow these characteristics if you have social anxiety, are an introvert, or prefer a peaceful drive: doesn't talk at all and understands the instructions. When drivers don't speak aside from "Hello" and "Enjoy your day", I can live in my head for the moment as my favorite song plays in the background from my headphone speakers. The only downside is that I have to keep the volume significantly low if the driver has inquiries about the dropoff location or takes a detour. When the Uber driver understands the assignment, it makes the drive ten times enjoyable.
By Norma Jane2 years ago in Humans
In The Cold Where You Left Me
Snowflakes fell on my cheeks, mixing with my tears. Behind me, Christmas lights glowed against the iced-over pavement, as the smell of whiskey and eggnog drifted from my house, seeping into the winter air. His hands cupped my face. They felt cold. And not from exposure to the Minnesota cold. No affection. No warmth. At that moment, I knew I did the right thing. I met his gaze with my own green eyes. I could stare right through his eyes because of how hollow they were. I started to question everything that happened between him and me, but I was sure there was no point in trying again. So, I said, "Ethan, we can't keep doing this!"
By Norma Jane3 years ago in Fiction
The Complicated Experience of Opening Up
Questioning your diagnosis or thinking there may be more to the answer. Sometimes when I talk to my friends about their experiences, it feels like they finally got the answer they were looking for. As for me, I spent an extended part of my life trying to cope with depression and anxiety. While that still may be so, I still question. I wonder if there is more to the story. Like something is being ignored. It's a long journey but a complicated one.
By Norma Jane3 years ago in Psyche