family

Shattered Ice
Ice was scattered across the floor, shattered in pieces. The table where the cake sat was turned over on its side. A few chairs knocked over and out of place. The streamers and ribbons were hanging skewed and falling down. The barn was empty now but a few hours prior it was filled with laughter. People rushed out as soon as the commotion started including Maddie and Chase. Maddie looked around at the mess; today was suppose to be fun and one for the memory books but then it happened…
By Rebecca Hackney5 years ago in Fiction
Freeze-Framed Moments
Jake woke up before the world. He’d set his alarm for six, so he could sneak out and practice before Mom arose. He glanced at his drugstore alarm clock. The faint green glow-in-the-dark numbers said 4:30.
By Sarah Paris5 years ago in Fiction
Pictures Belonging to You
With a grunt of effort, I lifted the box onto the table, setting it down as gently as possible. It was heavier than I’d expected. Who would have thought a box of pictures could be so heavy my arms hurt? Then again, I wasn’t the strongest of people. With a heavy sigh, I pushed the box further onto the table and leaned against it. I took a moment to breathe. God knows I needed it. The past week and a half had been rough.
By Drake5 years ago in Fiction
The First of January
Shifting beneath the faded, tartan wool blanket, Isaac turns onto his left side in a miserable attempt to get comfortable. He is lying on their old leather couch in the den - close to a crackling, cast-iron, wood burning stove - and sticks his bare feet out of the blanket to feel the heat on his skin. After a few minutes, he flips the end of the blanket back to cover his nearly-scorched toes - the wool muting the intensity of the heat. It was January first, and Isaac couldn’t sleep.
By Ben Cook5 years ago in Fiction
Chasing the Setting Sun
“La Città del Rinascimento. The City of the Renaissance. Once, Ferrara was the cultural jewel of Italy, drawing some of the greatest artists, musicians and thinkers of the Renaissance: Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, even Leonardo DiCaprio! Our family was the head of a glittering, exhilarating place in a vital period of history. Even more influential, in some ways, than Venice or Florence, thanks to the House of Este and their court. Ferrara was an international powerhouse, long before New York or Paris reached their prime. Now, people remain fascinated to this day with the Medici family, but the House of Este- “
By Chloë J.5 years ago in Fiction
The Killing Lake
The walk to the killing lake was so much louder than usual today. The snow crunched under my feet, and the sound of the chains around my wrists was an unwelcome addition to the usual quiet. Every member of our small town was walking through the trees with me, but they were silent. Only their footsteps and the occasional quiet sob could be heard.
By Alyssa Gutierrez5 years ago in Fiction
Happy Birthday
I sit at one of the North facing windows of our family cabin, tucked in at the base of Yoho Valley in the National Park. I watch as the day’s light seamlessly disappears over the mountain range making way for the darkness to creep in and settle across the night sky. It’s snowing and the howl of the constant November winds sweeping around our cabin reminds me of the scenes in the Harry Potter movies when the Dementors arrive. As the darkness descends so too does the icy cold air, sucking the life out of the day.
By Kerie Adamson5 years ago in Fiction
Driving
Metres and metres of tarmac shot under the tires as we cruised down country roads. With my big brother driving and our two best friends in the backseat, life couldn't be better. Everything that had troubled me in the last week was left behind us. Windows rolled down, I found myself singing along to the blaring radio, something I hadn’t had it in me to do for a while.
By Grayson Clayton5 years ago in Fiction
Elder's Tree
In life as we grow, sadly, our loved ones pass away and all we have to remember them by is our memories and pictures. When I was five years old, I experienced my first loss when my dog Bear died from rabies. I was completely heartbroken because my grandparents got him as a puppy when I was just a babe. Bear and I grew up together, we were inseparable. When he passed, my grandfather told me to go back into the house, so that could prepare for Bear's immortal life. He planted a pear tree in front of the house, and told me that if we bury Bear in front of this tree, then he would live on within the tree. This way, he would live as long as the tree. Which outlives human lifetimes.
By ElRey Niffen5 years ago in Fiction
Indigenous
November 21, 1978: Baraga State Park, Baraga, Michigan, 12:03 am. Gerry Brown Bear, a gangly, Native American man walks through the forest with a swift strut. There is no human activity at this hour. Just creatures of the animal variety. The stars paint the sky with an expansive fury. Different sounds fill the area but nothing foreign to the ears of Mister Brown Bear. Gerry made an excursion from the L'Anse Indian Reservation to try to see a meteorite or comet in the Michigan night skies.
By Darren Smith5 years ago in Fiction
No Regrets
Super spy, Samantha Rigby pursued her target by taking a shortcut across a frozen Russian pond. It was a calculated risk. The sound of cracking ice alerted her to danger. Would her risk pay off? She knew this pond was deep enough to trap her in frigid water if she fell through. She quickly…
By Julie Lacksonen5 years ago in Fiction
Ice Princess
As she ran through the field behind her aunt’s house, Serena could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin. She was grateful for the experience. Growing up in Alaska, she yearned for the heat. Tall green grass enveloped her legs, and she couldn’t help but wonder how she could ever live in a place that was cold and damp most of the year. If it weren’t for her family and her job, she would have left the cold years ago. She cherished the summers where she could swim freely in the lake and sit on the dock, doing nothing but staring off into the distance. She felt as if all her worries were lifted. Worries about her job. She had worked as a steward on the Alaska State Ferry since she was 18 years old and never really felt it was a fit for her. She worried about her family, while her father was sick with Parkinson’s. She worried she was a burden living with her sister and her husband. She was scared. She knew she was moving into a new life, a life she’d always dreamed of, but never thought possible. Serena was an amazing painter and landscapes of mountains with nature set as the main character, were her specialty. She limited herself because of where she was, because of who she thought she should be. Visiting her Aunt Magda's house in South Carolina, she felt free. She felt it was the only place she could be herself, with no expectations. She painted almost the entire time she vacationed there aside from days she helped her aunt at her flower shop. Paintings of flowers and streams adorned with children playing in the distance. She expanded her talent. She allowed herself room to breathe.
By Roberta DeAndrade5 years ago in Fiction