Childhood
The Death of Small and Silent Things
Boot prints were churned into the mud. My feet vanished into them as I hopped from one to the next as if they were stepping stones, my light-up trainers flashing red with every hop. It was drizzling and I was buried in the depths of a mackintosh. The hood kept falling forward over my eyes so I wasn't aware of my grandfather standing in the last set of boot prints until I collided with the back of his legs. My sleeves flapped as I teetered dangerously.
By EJ Ferguson4 years ago in Confessions
There Was No Fight
The ring of teenagers was 30 feet wide - at least it looked like that to me- and the rain had already soaked through to the skin. On one side, a local girl and two of her friends, on the other a friend of a friend. I still can't say why I ran from the warmth of the youth club to the middle of a rain-slicked park - maybe I had some vague notion that I'd get my knuckles bloody in the same way that any teenager thinks they will when a fight breaks out. I don't remember what I thought, only how daunting the group of people was when I got there. I fancied myself the rough type, and I was wrong.
By S. A. Crawford4 years ago in Confessions
The Yellow Rose
The Yellow Rose by: Dennis R. Humphreys There come a time in life when you're older, you look at life's events and you can classify the off beat occurrences in one of two ways. They're either embarrassing or funny as hell. You also have the tendency not to bring them up until your parents have passed away, or they're so old you know they just don't give a crap anymore. But then most major occurrences don't seem so major anymore as time mounts, and you have less time in front of you, than what you left behind.
By Dennis Humphreys4 years ago in Confessions
The Adventures of a Wild Child
It is very nice to meet you! I always enjoy meeting new and different people. Our differences make the world go 'round! Why does everyone want to fight about our differences, instead of embracing them? I have always tried my best to go with the flow. I also, believe that everyone has a right to their own opinions, likes and dislikes and most of all, their own lives!
By T. K. Wilson4 years ago in Confessions
Neighborhood Ghostbusters
Growing up in Hamilton, Ohio never proved to be overly interesting—aside from some girl that got stabbed on my front lawn at four o’clock in the morning or many fire-department rescues of far too large kids attempting to squeeze themselves into infant swings. Despite this, and the raging opioid epidemic gutting my community in ways I couldn’t understand, I had a really good childhood. My family settled on a street corner directly across from a decently sized park that often housed a plethora of children my age. I could generally be found outdoors, utilizing my vast imagination and perpetually getting myself in trouble.
By Jules Day (they/them) 4 years ago in Confessions
What it is like having an alcoholic for a father
My dad is a man very hard to describe. In the early years I was sheltered from his destructive behavior. Dads house was a place of true adventure and great holidays. At the time he owned a thriving business because he had not yet become an alcoholic. He was a very rich man, we went on trips to Honduras, Mexico and Cancun. He would take us to sea world, and take us on boat trips for the whole weekend. He owned a wonderful cottage and we played outside all day becoming one with animals and the nature around us. We went to Disney land, and endless trips to there places. He truly left me with a wonderful childhood. He owned a multibillion dollar business and had lots of friends. But as he slipped into alcoholism he would soon loose everything.
By Julia Stellings4 years ago in Confessions
Television static 📺 🖤✨
Before you start reading it. I’ll like you to know I’m dedicating this piece to those split seconds of insecurities that I feel when I feel…..nostalgic. I know. I also have not much to work with but that’s really what my brain does best. Leaving important details behind~ Oh well. Do enjoy this one folks. Cause there is more where that came from. Hehe~
By Basil Fresh4 years ago in Confessions
Why I would rather skip Halloween and move onto Christmas
You're thinking "Oh she's crazy! Why doesn't she like Halloween?" Well, you see here, I do not find any joy in Halloween anymore. The magic of that has worn off. I am not a kid anymore and no, spending hundreds of dollars on a costume I am only wearing once, I cannot fathom that.
By Marissa Jeffries4 years ago in Confessions
