Young Adult

Tales of Bette: Greyson & Tylor June 2, 2004
Bette On It: Weird Adolescence. Excerpts... June 2, 2004 Ozzy saw Bette hug her parents and her girls as she got ready to leave the event center at the end of the all night grad party. Greyson saw him looking at her. "She's right there. It's not too late," said Greyson.
By Tinka Boudit She/Her5 years ago in Fiction
Where my heart is
Things use to be great around here, the leaves use to look so shiny and smooth and the smell of the grass I could never get tired of and the air always felt crisp no matter the time of year; that was when mum was here, when she was around it felt as if life was just ok and that’s all that mattered at the moment. Then she went away and things lost the light, daddy’s glow started to slowly fade away and the leaves started losing their colors and the wet smell of the grass started reaking of dirt and filth and the air no longer felt crisp or smelled fresh and the sun light just seemed to die from the sky; me and Daniel began losing hope she was coming home and daddy slowly became a drinker who over worked and was almost never home, that was until daddy’s job let him off, now he’s working odd jobs and barely making ends meet. Daniel started hanging out with the “wrong” kind of folks as mum would put it and I slowly started hating my mother and the memories she had left behind in this house, in a feeling, and in my head I started seeing how bad daddy would get after work doing whatever anyone paid him to do. I had just started the fourth grade when she left and Danny was starting middle school, daddy had just gotten a raise and was going to take us all to the carnival that was until mum left; the first two years were hard not having her around but I grew use to it, not as quick as Danny but by the time I entered the sixth grade I was no longer attached to the idea of my mother and was almost completely numb to any jokes and comments about her. Daddy had found a job in Eilsetown which was just down the ways from Cooper alleyway, the “bad” side of town, daddy says we’re not allowed to go down there or even roam round near there or he’d have us with the belt, I never go down there anyways nothing interests me down there; only reason daddy’s down that way is because of the money, $7.65 an hour, $9.75 on the weekends and $10 plus overtime on holidays, it wasn’t much but it barely keeps us housed, feed, and clothed and soon Daniel will be able to work and we’ll have extra money to help pay the bills, I’ll do the same when I get Daniel’s age that way daddy doesn’t have to work. But as for right now Getting through middle school was my only goal, I was in my second year and seventh grade felt so long it was parent teacher night today, daddy wasn’t coming like usual but I was ok with that; ever since mum left he hasn’t made it to any of our school stuff, neither of us blame him he has to take care of us somehow and attending a silly little school meeting telling him how “misbehaved” we are wasn’t important anyways.
By Audria Torice5 years ago in Fiction
Branch of Hopes
'Branch of Hopes' "OHH Fu-- Forget them. Forget Kickball. Dodgeball. Or whatever they're playing They could've picked you." Joey looks downward, after also not being picked.
By Joey Jordan5 years ago in Fiction
A Girl Named Marigold
She was my Marigold. She was everyone’s Marigold, technically, as that was her name, but I was the only one allowed to point it out. From ages 6 to, apparently, 14, if you’re named after an object of any sort, the wordplay gets real old real fast. So she went by Mary… to everyone else.
By Erin McNulty5 years ago in Fiction
Ice Cream - The Nostalgic Kind
Author's Note: This is just a snippet of a novel I'm currently writing. (It's still in the rough draft process.) The first month was cold, but it was orange. There were slight breezes, but it never reached ice-white. There was a hope, but also a lost melody. A fading time, but I still looked at the grandfather clock when I could. Except, it was mother clock, instead of a grandfather. I didn’t know my grandfather well enough, but I remembered my mother. And father. And Elise. And Alec. And Chelsea. And Sarah. Maybe one day I could reach them again, maybe they’d be waiting beneath the waves, waiting to pull me under. I’d allow them to, they could touch me.
By Jordyn5 years ago in Fiction
Closer to the Sun
Growing up, Aurora’s mother had always taught her to be a lady and what that looks like. “Don’t speak too loudly,” she said. “Don’t be tempting these boys,” she said. “Don’t touch things in the store,” she said. Aurora, being an only child with a single mother, only had one mission: to ensure her mother was proud of her. Whatever Aurora’s mother asked of her, Aurora ensured she followed suit. Go to a highly established university, study a major where you won’t have to struggle for a living, apply yourself, chase your dreams. While Aurora went on a pursuit to fulfill the wishes of her mother, she never understood that last bit:
By Amanda Moore-Karim5 years ago in Fiction
Special Delivery
Marigold stared at the bouquet on her table, then the one on her counter and one more on the coffee table. She tried hard not to picture the two bouquets sitting on her desk at the elementary school, but of course there they were forcing their way into her mind. The rich yellows and oranges with hints of red all mixed with dark green foliage were beautiful and filled the room with color, but all she wanted to do when she saw them was scream. He was destroying her love of the flower she was named after just like he had destroyed their relationship.
By Viltinga Rasytoja5 years ago in Fiction
Conscious Sleep. Honorable Mention in The Shape of the Thing Challenge.
My body felt heavy. A deep, inconceivable heaviness I had never experienced. Not in sickness. Not in exhaustion. A weight with a pull so powerful that it had to be killing me. My limbs sank into my mattress with such significant pressure I thought they would bore straight through. It felt as though lead had bloomed over my skin like lichen, covering my body from head to toe in an immobilizing force. My organs too had grown impossibly dense, painful but preserved, coated in thick cement, pressing, and scraping against the thin line of delicate flesh left beneath the armor formed over my skin. I was in agony. All these sensations were felt with a new kind of awareness. Every cell of my body felt overstimulated and raw. Though I had never felt more conscious of my physical body I was not experiencing this turmoil from within it. Instead, I was looking down at myself from above.
By Moody5 years ago in Fiction
Around the Marigold Round
Summer had almost ended, yet the suffocating heat lingered on. People started moving a little more, awoken from a long coma of days melting on the sand before taking a dip in the ocean. About halfway down a suburban cul-du-sac street, a post-war single-storey house blended in with all the other monotonous houses of the quiet Australian suburb. In approximately 8 minutes you would hear the slamming of front doors and the manic yelling of parents attempting to herd their kids into the family SUV. Just as the ubiquitous post war houses littered the suburbs of the Central Coast, so did the families who would all leave their homes at 8 am sharp for work or school until summer came rolling around again.
By Jasmine Wood5 years ago in Fiction
The Very End
Humanity could not live peacefully with each other anymore; most have died during the Nuclear Fallout or the small wars that lead up to World War 5. I wasn't alive during the other World Wars, but my Grandmother June told me stories, how millions of people died, the anarchy that unfolded, and the famine that followed each war. During the previous World Wars, the countries involved always threatened to nuke each other into abomination but only ever pressed the red button to launch once. A group of Christian terrorists hacked into every country’s nuclear weapon system, they called themselves the Raptures. They were ready for the end of the world and thought it was the only way for humanity's sins to be forgiven was for all of us to die.
By Devin McGurk-Nixon5 years ago in Fiction
Like Marigold Flowers
In fourteen hours chaos would begin. In fourteen hours blood would be drawn. In fourteen hours desperation would take hold.
By Moses Banford5 years ago in Fiction
A Man Named Summer
It's Summer, and my window is trying the best it can to shield me from the rain. I struggle to find comfort as my feet are freezing, and a draft is coming in from a loose door in the back of our cottage. My brother Jamie hurries to feed the starving flames as I sit and watch him, thankful that we finally have a home to rest in, thanks to momma. Summer is what I will call my future daughter, as I believe this chapter in my life to be the most important, and like a bookmark, I want never to lose this page.
By Aby Gravesend 5 years ago in Fiction