Young Adult
Sex Ed
“This is what passes for sex education?” I whisper to Tara as the teacher at the front of the room equates ‘safe’ kisses to peaches. It’s pathetic and an uncomfortable heat is pouring through me, making sweat break out on my temples and I can feel it collecting in my bra.
By J. D. Everly5 years ago in Fiction
Rememberance
Jessica stared out at the marigold field in front of her and took in the beautiful array of colours. They were vibrant, gorgeous and completely heart halting. Hues of yellow, orange, and red littered the field like they dominated it…she inhaled deeply and felt the warm summer breeze carry the scent of the flowers into her nostrils. She came here every year, the same date, the same time- September the eleventh-1:45pm. Most people knew that as the date and time when the planes struck the towers…when countless lives were lost to a merciless terrorist attack. But Jessica knew that specific date as the time she lost her mother. Her mother worked in the building that was struck down first, she did something to do with the reception-looking back on it Jessica couldn’t remember exactly what she did, she wished she had, she wished she could go back in time and find out every little detail of her mothers life, learn every line and crevice on her face-she just wanted to memorise as much as she could. However, as she sat among the marigold flowers, tears clouded her eyes and the realisation hit her that she couldn’t go back, she couldn’t remember what her mother looked like, or the way her hair smelt after a shower…she couldn’t remember the sound of her laugh or her voice and she couldn’t remember when she last spoke to her. Jessica was always told how painful it was to lose someone that close to you, the absence of their soul will be an absence of your own as if part of their heart was also part of yours-but it wasn’t just that, it wasn’t just the feeling of loss, of pure destruction. But also the disappearance of memories that other children held so dear-the memories of opening presents on Christmas morning or walks in the forest as a family, or even completely meaningless memories that nobody really cared for until it was too late -like that one conversation you had before school on a Tuesday morning, or when you got your first boyfriend and your mother was more excited than you were. All of these things seemed pointless to remember at the time, but now her mother was gone she realised every memory and every morsel of her being ached for her mothers arms once again, wished that her mother was next to her, rubbing her head and telling her everything was going to be alright. Jessica heard a cracking of a twig behind her, she turned to see a short girl, her skin was deep mahogany and her afro was wild and crazy as always, she felt a smile bloom across her face at the sight of her best and longest friend-Kiarah.
By Emani Lawson 5 years ago in Fiction
The Flower of Flame. Top Story - August 2021.
It was my 16th birthday. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the unlit candles on my cake. My mom sat next to me, waiting for my grandma to arrive. I ran my fingers through my hair as we waited: it felt strange, having such short hair now. I’d gotten it cut yesterday, wanting to reinvent myself now that I was turning 16.
By Sephy Atlas5 years ago in Fiction
The Girl On the Bluff
She awoke to the sound of waves crashing against the jagged rocks. Her eyes fluttered open and a smile stretched slowly across her face. She sat up and glanced at the clock that hung on her wall. It was just about to be five in the morning. Her family would not be getting up for another two hours or so. It was late August and the morning air chilled her bare arms. Goose bumps prickled up her skin as the wind danced through her open windows. She stood up to close them but stopped when she saw how beautiful the morning was.
By Sophia Makarenko 5 years ago in Fiction
Ollie's World
Ollie wondered if every other boy his age counted their footfalls as they walked home after school. Or any other boy his age for that matter. He wondered how many times he had walked that same street day after day, year after year and how many more times he would have yet to count the 3,562 steps that separated his house from the bus stop. Despite being a newly 13 year old boy, Ollie had a complete disinterest in high-tech or “smart” gadgets like phones or tablets. Sure, he had seen videos on the phones of classmates - typically from over their shoulder, in secret - but he truly couldn’t understand how someone could handle owning such a raw source of enormous, terrifying stimulation like that of a cell phone, let alone become so hopelessly dependent upon it.
By Reed Mcabre5 years ago in Fiction
Life In Stitches
Preface **** Bonita Smith was a chubby "Plain Jane." A poor girl from Bay Roberts, Newfoundland, and all she ever wanted was to be a top New York fashion designer. Living in a small, isolated town and the daughter of the local Pentecostal preacher was an obstacle in the path that led to fulfilling her dreams.
By Curtis Keith Simms5 years ago in Fiction
How A Marigold Flower Saved Me from a Mental Breakdown
After losing his dad at the age of 10 due to a brain aneurysm, Alfred did whatever he could financially to help his mom. She worked cleaning offices and waitressing jobs. Alfred began working at the age of 11, selling a weekly local newspaper to commuters catching trains on their way to work. After doing this job for two years, he moved up to working at a local fast-food restaurant as a cook, janitor, and cashier. As Alfred started high school, he also worked as a janitor for a community center while continuing his fast-food career.
By Anthony Chan5 years ago in Fiction
Just Get There
This is a continuation of the "Just Get There" series. Here you can find part 1 and part 2. Jessa was fighting back the panic she was feeling. Tears of fear and shock about what just happened rolled down her cheek. She felt like she had been waiting in the quickly fading dusk for an eternity before she heard him call out again.
By J. Delaney-Howe5 years ago in Fiction
