children
Children: Our most valuable natural resource.
Her
The snowflakes are falling, covering the cracks in the walkway. My boots are leaving trails behind me, no matter how far I to pick my feet up. There’s not a noise tarnishing the silence of the night. No headlights peering through the darkness. Just a street lamp here and there, the ones that work that is.
By Mackenzie Becker6 years ago in Families
Lost Childhood
I remember the metallic burnt odor, like when Dad forgets to check the grill. Unlike the food on the grill, however, it was my own flesh being burned to cinders. Pain overwhelms my abandoned corpse-like body. I’m numb, a host to the parasite of pain that is feeding on my every relief. I feel as though I am alive in a coffin. My insides were toxic to what is supposed to cure me. My eyes shoot open, scared and alert. There are hands inside my open and exposed body. The people in the white coats bark orders to each other, their ghostly faces petrified like wood. I wish I could scream, move, panic, but I cannot evade this. I’m stuck, awake, during surgery, where I’m supposed to be asleep. Chills begin to overwhelm my fragile body; every single hair saluting the next. I want out, away from this sleepless slumber. A salty trail of tears escape my emerald eyes, as the fighting to stay alive voids the longing for peace, and I slip into the darkness.
By Alley Cowgill6 years ago in Families
Being Daddy's Little Girl
It's hard to know what to say if you wish to write about your best friend who, during my childhood, was my father and died when I was only ten. Because I lost him so soon, some of my memories are brighter and more definite than they might have been if I had been able to be with him as an adult.
By Rasma Raisters6 years ago in Families
Hickory Creek, Inc.
"I'm telling you," Millie exclaimed. "Mixing the sand with clay will ensure stronger dexterity!" "Where am I gonna get clay?" Linus demanded. "You're nuts!" This argument had been going back and forth all afternoon. I should probably explain what's happening. You see, my brother got roped into a sandcastle contest with his number one fan.
By Jeremy Jewitt6 years ago in Families
A Quiet Minute
She’s staring out the window and telling me about her day. I’m glad that she can’t see my face, glad that she doesn’t know how much my back hurts standing here, glad that she doesn’t see that I’m sad that she has to tell me what she did today even though we’ve not been more than a few metres apart all day, glad that she doesn’t know it’s taking so long because of the pain in my hands. All she knows is this quiet minute, searching for dinosaurs in the overgrown backyard, just her and her mumma, putting her beautiful red hair into plaits before bed.
By Billie Argyle6 years ago in Families
Ablution
The path to the stream was overgrown and barely visible, but Walter knew the way. As a boy he had fished there for brown trout with his father, and later brought his sons with their fly rods and wicker baskets. Standing for hours in cool moving water, threading out the line, flicking the bamboo tip so the tied fly landed precisely, freed the mind and refreshed the spirit.
By Banning Lary6 years ago in Families
Single Mother
The day I become a single mother felt as if I had a significant weight lifted off my shoulders. I divorced my husband. Being married to my kid's father was like being married to a grown child. He couldn't do anything for himself. As he was growing up, his family did everything for him. Washed his clothes, cooked for him, picked up after him. They did everything. It was almost like he was a spoiled child. He got everything he wanted.
By Laura mclean6 years ago in Families
