Kaitlyn Chung
Bio
Uni student who makes art because it makes my soul happy. I hope in reading my poetry, I’ll make yours happy too :)
It begins with a twinkle of a thought, then morphs into something I’d never think of.
Stories (5)
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Stepping
Mama never let me leave. I’m fifteen now. I just want to walk around our neighborhood. I’d tell her. But each time, she’d say something to the effect of, “Do you wanna end up like that girl in the news? She said the same and ended up dead in a ditch.” Except each day, Mama would describe some other horrific thing she’d heard. A car accident down the road, two injured. Stacy, 24, will never be able to walk again due to her spinal cord injury. Her boyfriend Jerry, 30, who drove, only broke his left leg. She emphasized the only part—she always told me men belonged to the devil. A shooting last Wednesday at the St. Claire Mall, 5 shot, one killed. Marsha, who died, just turned 12. She was still holding her mother’s hand when she looked down to see the bright red puddle pouring from her stomach. I wonder how Mama could’ve gotten those kinds of details; the things she described would never make it to the newspaper. Then again, she’d never let me read all of the paper. She’d mark out paragraphs with a sharpie like the government does with classified documents. The number of obituaries and bible verses of the day I’ve read could fill this entire house. She called it schoolwork.
By Kaitlyn Chung3 years ago in Horror
