Sierra Stewart
Bio
I just write for fun, by no means am I a professional. May my stories take you on a ride or impact you in a good way.
Stories (3)
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Her Face
It's always Clara this, Clara that. My father worshipped the ground she walked on ever since birth. We used to be close, like best friends. Then Clara’s drawings made it on the fridge with that pretty little magnet filled with diamond studs. All I wanted then was to get my drawings hung up on the fridge. Instead, my father would throw my art away. This one time I worked so hard on a picture for my dad. It was a drawing with my first ever 3D house and some shading. I was always the better artist between Clara and me. As he observed the drawing, he slowly started to raise his lip in disgust. He started to tear up my drawing in front of me as I cried and tossed it in the trash. I will never forget that day because not only had my father shown his true colors, but so did Audrey our maid. That same day Audrey pulled the pieces out of the trash and taped them back together. She pulled me into a hug as she said “I will cherish this drawing as long as it's held up on my fridge with a magnet that has diamond studs and glitter.” Audrey has always been good to me. She has always shown me love when I needed it most. I have never known a mother’s love before. My mother died during childbirth. She had given birth to my sister first; I came out ten seconds later. About halfway out my mother’s heart started to fail. The doctors did all they could to save my mother, but she was not strong enough. “You killed your mother!” my dad always reminded me. Sometimes I wonder if only my sister had been born that day, would my mother have lived? Did I kill my mother? With no mother or father to guide me, all I had was Audrey. My sister could care less about me, she was always too busy being herself. I may have been better at drawing than Clara, but she was always naturally smarter than me. In fourth grade, I started paying the smartest kid in my class to do my homework. About time I got to middle school, my father figured out I was paying other students to do my homework. I don’t know how he found out, maybe my sister snitched on me. I came home that day and he stopped me at the front door to scold me. I thought maybe that was his way of loving me until he said “you cheated death like you cheated in school.” What did he mean by “cheated death?” was it me that was supposed to die that day instead of my mother? There was nothing worse my father could have said to me. My sister always just standing by doing nothing, saying nothing. She was worthless, she only cared for herself. He would never treat her like that. How could he love her more than me? We look the same. She had father’s love and did not need to earn it like I did. As tears ran down my face I looked over at Audrey. She had a look in her eyes that I had never seen before. Was Audrey angry? I only ever saw her happy. She rubbed my shoulder as I walked by crying. That is the day Audrey grew a backbone and stuck up for me. Eavesdropping I heard her tell my father “You ought to show some love to that girl, it would make all the difference in the world. Why do you think she does the things she does? She wants your attention.” my father replied, “I don’t pay you for your advice. I pay you to clean my house, so get to it.” How could I be so easy to write off?
By Sierra Stewart5 years ago in Fiction
Strange
“Mjnari we are going to get caught, or worse punished!” I do not know how many times I said that throughout my friendship with Mjnari. He was always so different from the rest of the boys in the neighborhood. In a way I guess I was a little different too, since we were friends. The neighborhood boys were always some kind of pranksters and would always pull pranks on only Mjnari and me. You could say we were the more awkward kids in the neighborhood. Mjnari would pedal his bike as fast as he could down the street to my house. Flying off at the last second, throwing his bike to the ground, running to my front door knocking like he had news straight from the president’s mouth told to him personally. My mother always had an attitude with him, his bike handles when thrown on the lawn would dig holes in her lawn. Mjnari never paid attention to her attitudes, not intentionally. He never was good at social cues, never really knew when someone was upset with him. He was always too busy plotting his next exploration. Mjnari’s latest project was drawing a map of the entire woods property that we lived next to. Today we are to explore sector three: Dark Trees, whatever that means. I was just always along for the adventures. Arriving at the woods, we head in. We walked past the discovered sectors one and two. Sector three would be the farthest we explored into into the woods. Uneasy about exploring so far I started to feel nervous, what if we get in trouble? “Mjnari I do not think we should be going this far out.” Completely disregarding what I had said, Mjnari just pushed through charting his map. We had made it to the middle of sector three. There had been an ominous silence for quite some time now, but it was worse here. It’s like that part of the woods had been the only area of the world moving. Like we were the only two people in the world. Mjnari, too busy in his head felt none of this. Stopping to take a breath, which I needed, Mjnari always forgot I had asthma. Standing there in the deafening Silence taking a breath. Suddenly I find that, I can not move! I can not speak! Am I even breathing? I was so stiff, frozen like, no muscles in my body able to move not even my eyes. My eyes pointed towards the sky, I see the sun, clouds, and dark trees. The silence was broken by a screeching sound, my eardrums could not handle it. Suddenly the screeching was gone, it had turned into raspy breathing that stood behind my stiff body. The hairs on the back of my neck stood tall. Just as fast as the presence was there, it was gone. I find myself standing behind Mjnari, he is standing in disbelief at what he is gazing upon. It is a creature of some sort, nothing I have ever seen before. The creature seems helpless in an infant form of his life span. The creature had four legs and the tail of a lizard, only it had dull spikes towards the end of the tail. It had no eyes, only two holes, I guess that was the nose. It was black and slimy, like when the neighborhood boys would egg us and we would be slimy and sticky. Mjnari motions his hand to touch the creature. I grab his arm “no Mjnari do not touch it!” He looks to me and says in a monotone voice and with an unreadable face, “I have to.” I had never seen Mjnari so strange before. If I had not been scared before, I was now. Forcing my hand off his arm with strength that did not match his physique, he touches the creature. Just as he touches the creature it runs off into the bushes. Standing up from the ground Mjnari starts to walk home, leaving all his things; his flashlight, his lucky pencil, his crayons, his map. The map he worked so hard on for over a month now. I stand in shock watching him walk away strangely. He did not sway his arms in his normal dorky way. Instead they lay along the side of his body somewhat stiff, his body held a strange straight posture while walking. Only his legs moved as if he were a robot. I go to grab him to ask what’s wrong? Suddenly grabbing my arm with the same strength he had before, he looks me in the face with that same unreadable look. All of a sudden his grip on my arm weakens and he looks at me with his normal studying face asking me what is wrong? Where his map was? As if he had no recollection of what just occurred, beginning from me standing behind him. I had no clue how I had ended up behind him. I had stopped to take a couple puffs of my inhaler, that’s all I remember. Mjnari collected his map and we started to head home. It had been dark by then, we were definitely in trouble. We parted ways. I was scared to walk in the house, I knew my mother would have my butt for coming home after the street lights had been on. I walk in to see my mother standing angry towards me. The next morning I wake up with a sore bottom and puffy eyes, wondering if Mjnari had the same feeling himself. We shouldn’t have stayed out so long last night. Ten o’clock in the morning, Mjnari was usually at my house by then, especially to tell me about how his mother punished him. I head out for the day towards Mjnari’s house. Standing my bike on the kickstand in a respectable way and using the pathway to make my way to his front door. I knock a couple times and wait. His mother answered the door, I ask “is Mjnari home?” She responded “who?” I replied “Mjnari… your son, my bestfriend.” She laughs as if she is genuinely amused, “I have no kids, what are you talking about? I think you have the wrong house.” I had a confused look on my face as she shut the door. The mother of my Bestfriend saying she has no son or any kids at all. Had she been drinking again? I’ll just wait for Mjnari to come to my house. I ride home, putting away my bike I ask my mother to let me know when Mjnari comes over. What she says next stops me dead in my tracks, “who is Mjnari?” I said “my bestfriend mom”, “oh sweetheart are you feeling well? your Bestfriend is Tommy Johnson.” I reply furious “Tommy Johnson! The boy who bully’s me? plays cruel pranks on me! No mom that is no friend of mine.”, She replied “sweetheart you must not be feeling well, you should go lay down.” My mother had been no drinker like Mjnari’s mom. She must need sleep or something. I run into my dad and I ask him to let me know when Mjnari comes over, he replies “who is Mjnari, that’s an odd name for a fella.” I stand in even more confused than before and reply “nothing.” I head to my room. How could nobody know who Mjnari was, we have been bestfriends since we were babies. My mother has a photo of us in the tub together as toddlers sitting on the mantle. That’s it! The photo they will remember him that way. I run downstairs to retrieve the photo only to see that it is not Mjnari, it’s Tommy Johnson. Throwing the picture against the wall, the glass breaks. “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, where is my inhaler? Where is Mjnari? Where is he?” Knocking down all the pictures on the mantle, they shatter on the cherry hard wood floors. I kick the the coffee table pushing it against the couch. “Where is Mjnari?! He is my bestfriend! He is my brother! Where is he?” “Caleb!” My mother calls out to me. “Caleb stop, what are you doing?” She sees that I have broken her pictures, her face fills with rage. “My pictures! What have you done?” She grabs my arm ready to spank me, I pull back so hard that she loses her grip and I hit my head on the fireplace. I wake up in my bed it is 9 o’clock in the morning. “Caleb!” my mother calls out, “Mjnari is at the door!” My eyes go as wide as they can as I jump out the bed and run down the stairs to the front door where my bestfriend stands. I open the door to see Mjnari with his map in his hand ready to explore, his bike behind him with the handle bar digging in the lawn.“Hey Caleb are you ready to explore sector three today? I think I am going to label it Dark Trees.”
By Sierra Stewart5 years ago in Fiction
Cesar Street
My hands filthy and callused, they were moist. It had been particularly hot that day, it was almost as if I could see the heat waves. The sound of the cicadas had filled the air taking over my hearing. Beads of sweat collected on my face as I walked down the street. My shoe flopped awkwardly every time my left foot motioned forward. The sole of the shoe gave up months ago. These were my second pair of shoes this year, tore up so soon. I could only afford the cheaper shoes with what little money I had. With my next step I felt the ground become uneven. I stepped back to see a heart-shaped locket, where had this locket come from? Who lost it? A woman? Maybe it was once a gift from a loved one. I picked the locket up curious whose photos had taken up the heart-shaped space inside. It had been hot to the touch from sitting in the sun, nothing I could not handle. As the locket opened, the burning feeling on my fingertips became intense. I dropped the locket to examine my fingers only to notice the sound of cicadas no longer rang in my ears. The ground beneath my feet was in ruins. Cracks had taken up the surface of the sidewalk while weeds ran through them. Debris laid around like a dumpsite. The air felt tainted and unfamiliar. The buildings were being engulfed by nature. There was a deafening silence that lingered. My mind went back to the locket. I looked to the ground to find the locket. The locket laid there open with no photos taking up the heart-shaped space. I couldn’t help but think the locket brought me to this strange place. A place of abandonment with an ominous layer.
By Sierra Stewart5 years ago in Fiction
