Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Unbreakable Siblings
Having been born into an extremely poor family, let alone in a third world country, my brother and I were then forced to face the rest of life as adoptee's. The two of us were adopted into separate families and in completely opposite locations; I grew up in the United States and my brother, in the Bahamas.
By Carrie Maria6 years ago in Families
Muna
Kabisa and Ghali Muna escorted the winner of the overall competition into Ghali’s office in her greenhouse. Two leather couches facing each other in a large space with associate gardeners busy working but attentive to Grandma’s needs, guidance, and personal advice. About 10 associates from ages of 10 to 80 worked happily as Kabisa and Ghali sat on one couch. Enye a seasoned garden worker from a village about 100 miles south of Kemet sat across from Kabisa after shaking hands. Enye is the father of Salli a 10 year old girl with bright eyes and a smile that melted her father’s heart every time. Her mother Nyongeza was from the same village as Ghali. They made the bubble around the group glow with friendship and kindness. The two old friends that are enjoying the connection they have been missing for years sometimes forget that everyone else is there and that they are supposed to be doing an orientation for Salli. Ghali brings tea to the small table between the couches, Nyongeza following laughing and chatting as they all sit and sip and glow.
By Clarence Bell III6 years ago in Families
My Rainbow Baby, My Son
I never thought I would be saying the words “my son”. I had finally gotten used to the idea that my daughter would be the only child I would ever have biologically. We were surprised when we found out that almost two years after an ectopic pregnancy, my fiancé and I were expecting. We were overcome with joy, when we found out we would be having a boy. I had always wanted a son, although any gender would have been okay with me. All I wanted was the baby!
By Crystal Nicole6 years ago in Families
I Was Trapped in This Tangle of Horror
When I was 14 or so I would ride along with my brother and brother-in-law on their truck routes during the summer. They were older than me by ten years or so, so this made for an interesting experience. There are many stories from the road that I can tell you, but this one is about the time my brother-in-law decided to throw his truck off of the side of a cliff with me and him in it.
By Christopher Harvey6 years ago in Families
Bold Silence
The silence of night’s eerie nature brings forth a desire to take a stroll down the paths commonly used by cyclists and joggers during the active day. As I walk along the path that leads to the park. I use the time effectively, and while relaxing I consider the options and opportunities for me to evaluate in my life. Walking with focused thoughts on how I should cultivate my ambition further than what I am currently doing.
By Natasha P.6 years ago in Families
Beyond Imaginary Lines
We arrived at the mart within town and upon first look everything seemed ugly. Once we walked in the store though, the clothes and shoes got nicer and nicer. Not my taste though. "Sarah, go ahead and browse around I'm going to check out the dresses." A sudden shiver of disgust coursed through me. Thinking about her and my dad and-... GROSS! I had a flashback to when I saw that girls outfit but, haven't been able to find it. I looked and looked but, there was no sight of anything like that in the store. Knowing my luck she probably ordered it off of online but my father doesn't want me to do that thing incase the sizes are too small and I waste the money. Just then I saw it. There was what looked like a secret room within the store like it was out of a video game or something. I went to look inside just when a stupid cat jumped out and scared me of course. I went in for a second look. Nothing but the outfits that girl was wearing was within there. I just had to grab a few. "Sarah, did you find anything yet?" Happily I shouted yes this time. "Well let me see them, try them on!" So I ran into the fitting room to try the first one on and when I came out Victoria didn't seem too pleased. Let down I went back into the fitting room to put the other one on. When I looked into the mirror I forgot how upset Victoria looked and just smiled again. Excited once again I opened the door to Victoria taking in a breath to sigh. "Sarah you can't just waltz into school looking like some- whatever that is, pick something else." I got angry. "But Victoria I -" "Don't Victoria me I swear your just like your mother, always gotta dress like your ready for the neighborhood bang. I was so furious I decided to just put everything back and ask to leave. Victoria agreed and we headed home with her snotty remark of telling me my father can bring me instead because she can't do this again. So after the most awkward ride home I went straight to my room to shut and lock the door. I could feel heat radiating off of my face from how angry I was. I just started unpacking and the next thing I knew I was asleep. "Sarah..." A voice was whispering to me but I couldn't see much. "Sarahh...." There was a dim purple light in the distance and it looked like someone was standing there. "sarAHH!!" I was jump scared awake. "What a weird dream." I thought. "Sarah I'm home!" I heard my father shout from downstairs. He's finally home. I rushed downstairs to welcome him home and get ready for dinner. As we sat at the dinner table my father asked how our day was. All I could think of was how rich this conversation was going to be. "OH!, We went to the mart and did some shopping and I brought Sarah to get some clothes." "She couldn't find anything worth getting." I swear she's just like her mother, can't make up her mind." "YOU LYING BITCH!" I shouted. "Sarah, language." My father said. "WHY DON'T YOU TELL DAD ABOUT HOW I'M JUST LIKE MY MOTHER BEING THE WHORE OR THE TOWN!" Victoria responded. "Sarah I'm not sure I know what you mean." Just then my blood boiled. "Why don't you get into a crash and die like mom did, maybe she'll meet you on your way to hell and whoop your ass on the way down!" My father slapped my face and shouted to get up to my room. I was officially grounded for the first time since mom passed away. I ran to my room and just laid there looking at the ceiling. I cant stand that she has the ability to just lie like that and everyone believes her. I swear she's evil. This move to me has been the worst ever. I can't believe I feel this way but, I really can't wait to start school where I'm away from her.
By Noe Boilard IV6 years ago in Families
When my Dad left
When I was a sophomore in high school I received a notice while in my biology class that there was a call for me at the front office and I should be ready to go home for the day. I grabbed my backpack, book and notebook and was ushered towards the office by some receptionist person that I had never seen before. I was getting sweaty walking the halls with this unknown woman, struggling to put my things away in my pack as we were walking. Part of me was excited to leave school, but another part of me felt like the reason I could be leaving might be serious so I was getting more anxious as we approached the office. Upon entering, I was instructed by the principal to pick up the phone on the counter. I picked up the phone and said hello, it was my mother letting me know she was going to pick me and my sister up to take us home and to be ready outside the school in 15 minutes. I hung up the phone and turned around and there was my sister, just as anxious as I was. She asked me what was going on, and I shrugged my shoulders and told her mom was coming to get us and we needed to meet her outside.
By HEATHER CLARIDGE6 years ago in Families
My Favorite Addiction
♥️♥️♥️ My Love for Diet Coke ♥️♥️♥️ I love my warm, cozy bed in the morning times. Time to leave the comfort of snuggling up with either Cassie or Duke for the bathroom! Morning after morning, my bladder drags me out of bed before I wish, but here we go for another day. As my feet hit the ground, before I even stop at the bathroom, I scurry my cold bare feet across the kitchen floor for my main priority at that moment, my first Diet Coke for the day! I mention the bare feet because there have been too many mornings that my toes RAM right into a dog bone that Duke has deliberately placed. 😖
By Amanda Jones6 years ago in Families
Just My Luck
JUST MY LUCK Ever since Nan died my girlfriend and I visited my Granddad every Wednesday evening and took him down the local pub. This was mainly to get him out of the house and have some social contact to help keep his spirits up. He had lived in the village all his life and was quite a character, everyone would say hello when we walked into the pub. The village pub was a thatched white washed timber framed building called The Royal Oak. It had an L shaped floor plan with the toilets and pub games section in the small straight section and the bar and main seating area in the other longer straight section. The wooden furniture was stained a dark brown and there were some church pew type seats strategically placed in the nooks and crannies to make the most of the space. There were three bar stools along a short and cramped bar that had the usual set of brass taps, a couple of other pumps and one of those soft drink dispensing hose, the sort that spouted mixed syrups and carbonated water when you pressed the button, like a soda stream. On every chair was a cushion covered in red velvet material that you could write rude messages on if you used your finger to brush against the direction the fabric was going in.
By Jamie Irons6 years ago in Families
Our children
When you bring a child into your life it’s the most beautiful blessing you can get. You see them grow and experience their milestones with them. Their smiles and laughs are the most beautiful things that can brighten up your world even more. They are so innocent in these stages and beautiful.
By Gabriela Marcial6 years ago in Families
Things a smile can’t tell you
Today I am going to take you back to when I was about 15-16 years old give or take. I remember like it was yesterday. I love my mom, but, I would lying if I said there were times in my life, on multiple occasions where I felt less than loved. One would even argue that I was seemingly uncared for. The thing about familial relationships, especially those with our mothers, they tend to be complex. When you’re like me and understand people almost to a fault. You tend to not lay blame on them, and more so, turn the blame, guilt and shame on yourself. If you ask me what circumstances were leading up to this event in my life. I would not be able to tell you because there was no “moment”. There was not a single thing I did wrong to anger my mom as much as I did that day or need to go through that situation as young teenager. I remember we were talking in her room one moment, and another moment passed and it was like someone flipped a switch and my mom was gone. She was replaced by an angry, hateful women in front of me who seemingly was filled with rage. She made a comment and I responded, and I remember specifically that she lifted her hand to slap me, and I caught her wrist. I could feel the sensation of terror creeping up on me, realizing what I had just done. Defend myself, because in the Puerto Rican culture, god forbid you defend yourself from abuse. Let’s call it what it is, it’s not corporal punishment, it’s abusive behavior. After I caught her hand, any chance of my mom being in there had all but deminished by now. She kept at me and put both hands around my neck. She was now choking me and holding me against the wall. I was fucking terrified. I just started panicking thinking to myself “why the fuck didn’t you just let her slap you”. Her grip was tightening and I was choking. It started to really set in. Oh shit, my mom is choking me. I grabbed at her wrists until she let me go. I caught my breath for a second and ran to the phone. “If you fucking touch me again, I will call the cops on you for abuse”. My mom got this frightening look in her eyes like she might really hurt me, as though, hurting me might bring her some actual joy. She looked crazed, like she snapped. My stomach sank at her response “oh yeah you little bitch ? I’ll you a reason to call the cops. She kept at me again, we struggled against her bed because she was trying to pin me down, and, was just swiping at me and hitting me. I jumped on to the bed and grabbed her chair that was in front of her vanity. At this point I was fucking absolutely terrified. My mom had been long gone in this moment. Replaced by what I would later find out was likely the irrational, abusive behavior of a cocaine addict. Which, was not uncommon in my family, I was just a kid though, and, I didn’t know any better. I held the chair up to her, shaking, and yelling for my brother or sister. I was holding the chair with one hand with the legs facing towards her like a lion tamer trying to hold off a lion. I used the other hand to bang on the wall as hard as I could until my scared brother and sister ran across the street to get my grandparents. They showed up about 5 minutes later, which felt like an eternity. They escorted me out of the house, sobbing, and a mess. While I listened to my mom say awful things about me and how ungrateful I was. Me being an ungrateful little bitch, is a pattern in my family, you’ll learn more about that in another article. But for now, I wanted to share this experience because it is one that traumatized me, and stayed with me into adulthood. I can recall this as though it happened yesterday. I have had to examine a lot of not only friendships but familial relationships after having my daughter, because, it has triggered me into wondering what kind of parent I will be and want to be. Could I ever do those things to my own daughter ? Probably not. It also leads me to question, why, culturally this is acceptable behavior. Why is it that Puerto Rican parents are so suffocatingly controlling ? Why are you treated like an extension of them and not your own person ? So many questions and no real logical answers. The only thing I can do because I cannot change the past, is move forward and be a better parent, and, break the cycle. My daughter will NEVER know such pain, such guilt, such unresolved anger towards me. I will not put her through that, ever.
By Juli Cofresi6 years ago in Families
