After Momma got sick, Daddy didn’t act the same. He’d go off into their room and not come out for days. I was just thirteen at that time, but Daddy said I was big and needed to take care of things. I liked feelin’ responsible. Back then, it was just […]
My mother always told me to stay away from Jamie Robert Mitchum. Maybe I should have listened to her. I guess I didn’t really understand why at the time. I guess children are more trusting. Sure, he was strange. Anybody could see that. Jamie was the type of kid to
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“Dad, you said you’d play catch with me!” I yelled as my father walked past me to his office, where he spent most of his days when he wasn’t at work. “I’m sorry, bud, I’ve gotta get these documents done for tomorrow’s big meeting. We’ll do it another day, okay?”
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My name’s Abigail Stitcher. I’m 15 years old, and I think I’m being followed. You see, I live in a relatively small town, with a population of 1,476 or so. Birch Run, they call it. Nothing’s ever really happens there, aside from the occasional fire or robbery committed by some
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“Speak louder, please.” I put my hand up next to my ear from the back of the room, signaling that she would need to raise her voice. She took a deep breath. I could see anxiety turning her cheeks beet red, as strands of blonde hair began to fall out
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When I became a father, my whole world started revolving around Marie. She was the most perfect, most treasured little thing in my world. We are kind of an unconventional family; my wife Taylor is a CEO, while I’m an artist and stay-at-home dad. Taylor and my parents are people
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Alright, we all remember those cardboard castles of our youth, the ones that were better than any Fisher-Price playhouse precisely because they had been painstakingly cut out, taped together, and decorated with our own hands. And unlike the fancy plastic cottages your parents spent a fortune on, these ones could
I’m a grown woman, so it’s been years since I don’t live by my mother’s rules. But there’s one thing I will always respect: never go to bed with a wet hair. For my mother, it meant catching a cold, but for me, it was something else entirely. Last night,
My name is Oliver Stricc. I’m a 52-year-old biology teacher from a small town in northeastern Nebraska, and I have been for almost 14 years. I’ll be the first to admit that lecturing to a bunch of uninterested high school students wasn’t what I had planned to do after getting
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From an early age I was told my father had “built” me and that I was built to help the family. Any feelings or thoughts that differed from his programming were to be reported to him as a malfunction that he would fix. It didn’t take me long to associate
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We all have that friend who we wish we could have done more for. Who we wish could have done better. I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently. See, it all goes back to my friend Clark, and the horror we both encountered six years ago. Clark and I
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When I was 7, my best friend was a girl named Ava, who was my neighbor. Ava was a sweet kid; I didn’t realize it at the time, but her home life was pure hell. We would always hear her father screaming and breaking stuff. I was too young to understand
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The sun was shining brightly overhead that particular afternoon, and the sound of birds chirping greeted Sarah as she made her way out of her school. It had been a long day, that particular day, and she was looking forward to going home, and relaxing for the weekend. Sarah was
Right now, I’m sitting up in my bed. It’s late at night and the only light is the screen of my laptop. I’m sure it’s illuminating my face quite nicely. I just hope my poker face is convincing enough to whatever is watching me. I think as long as I
It was a perfect June day. The sky was blue and not one cloud to be seen. It was warm and the breeze was just right. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. It was all perfect as far as I was concerned. I was riding my bike
I didn’t know my uncle too well. Which I guess is why I couldn’t shed even a single tear at his funeral. I had only seen him for a few occasions in my life, and most of them was when I was six. He seemed like a nice guy, but
Hello. I am Sarah. I am eight years old and I live in Wainsbury which is in England. My family is Mummy, Daddy, Josh and Peter. Peter is a rabbit. He is white. I have a question that I hope you can answer for me. How do I take off
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What do people usually fear when moving out to live on their own? What sort of problems does one normally encounter when finally venturing from the safety of their parents’ home, into a place of their own? Perhaps it’s paying their rent on time, or having to do all
You know that feeling you get when you eat too much? That uncomfortable pressure that just makes your throat feel like a pipe ready to burst? I wish I could feel that. Stuffed, full. I’ve never said the words, “I can’t eat another bite.” I always could. Bite after bite
My son is 2 years old and does. Not. Sleep. So when I saw an ad online for Goodnight Precious: the only book GUARANTEED put your child to sleep, I clicked. I was skeptical — but there was a video demonstration on the website. “I’m going to show you how this works.
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I think I’m finally at the point where I’m able to talk about it. It’s been several years since it happened. None of us – not me, nor my friend, brother, or brother’s friend, who also experienced it – have ever told a living soul, and rarely mention it to
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I love my son, I truly do. There’s nothing in the world I would wish for than my parents, my wife, and most importantly, my son. His name is Oscar, and he was a well-behaved child, even at the age of five, he knew better than to do wrong. That
The wind was blistering cold, the kind of wind that would pierce any clothing you happen to be wearing no matter how thick. Something about cold air makes sound travel further, especially high-pitched screaming. Even today, with our substantial medical advances, giving birth can be quite a trial. A couple
I remember when I first moved into this accursed house, I was 10 years old and loved all the things a ten-year-old boy loves, you know; climbing trees, catching bugs, playing cowboys and Indians, those sorts of things. We had moved from the hussle and bussle of “The Big Smoke”
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