fact or fiction

Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about our family dynamics, traditions, and if there's such thing as a 'perfect family.'

Zeb's Black Book
I'm sorry, son, but we'll have to put him down." "Oh, please dad, is there nothing you can do?" Joshua cried. "Anything, dad, I'll do anything you ask, if you just save Bert!"
By Nathan Hart5 years ago in Families
Dime Shrine
Bidding closed. Sold to number 417. Lot 293. Lot 293 was a small red box. It contained 13 9x4 books bound in soft black leather. They were weathered - they looked to be at least 100 years old, with ruled pages and bearing the Moleskine brand. The details of this bid were strange. The lot was identified only by an image of the journals in the box. The starting price was $20,000. The seller was anonymous. And, perhaps the most interesting part, the money paid was to be donated to the buyer’s choice of charity or foundation. Bidder Number 417 was slender and petite, perched on a blue velvet chair at the auction house. She lowered her placard, smiled at the auctioneer, nodded at the other bidders, and gracefully rose to collect the red box.
By Joan Chapple5 years ago in Families
Aunt Aletha's Infernal Legacy
Most people remember Aletha Magritte from a lurid episode of a spooky-mysteries show on basic cable, a woman of sixtyish sporting a pink pixie with rhinestone glasses too round for her face and a Muppet pelt coat. A woman who walked out of the elevator in a haunted hotel, past the grainy eye of the security camera, and seemingly out of existence.
By Rebecca Rose Vassy5 years ago in Families
At the Bottom Of the Sea
Sienna took a seat at the back of the bus as she usually did after work. The raindrops that had clung to her coat were quick to abandon her for the blue patterned fabric that lined the chair. Then, as usual, she set her bag on the seat right beside her keeping one of the straps looped around her arm. Once Sienna was settled, she looked out of a window that seemed to vibrate as the bus started on route forty-seven. She had made a promise to herself to be more present and found that looking at the sky helped her appreciate that she had experienced another day - no matter how routine and monotonous.
By Tugche Pehlivan5 years ago in Families
The Mysterious Aunt Trudie
Forbidden! I stare at the wooden door, hand hesitantly wrapped around its brass knob. Butterflies twist about angrily in my stomach. My feet are rooted to the floor, unwilling to take a step forward. This is the first time I’ve stood in front of this door, ready and able to enter.
By Amanda5 years ago in Families
Wynter Day
Wynter Day Is her name. After all, she was born on a winter day and her mother could not resist the irony by naming her Wynter Day as she has a wonderful sense of humor. Although they were from the Caribbean, Wynter's mother, Alesha, was born in Jamaica and expected to give birth in warm, sunny Jamaica as well. However, fate had a different plan and Alesha gave birth in the middle of winter in Brooklyn at Aunt Flo's house.
By Simone Hardy 5 years ago in Families
My Mother's Gift
Church bells ring in the distance; the noise oddly comforting. I had never been one for religion – I’d taken after my father in that sense. My mother, however, was a firm believer until the end of her life. Her final wishes insisted on her funeral being as full of religious love as possible. Last week I fulfilled her wish.
By Stephi5 years ago in Families
Veronique's Story
Moonlight brightly shone down on the quaint French restaurant as beautifully lit string lights hung upon elegantly manicured trees and smooth light posts.
By Julia Settle5 years ago in Families
"My dearest Briar"
The letter began. “Forgive me for contacting you out of the blue after so long spent estranged, but I have been tasked with reaching out to you to offer my deepest condolences.
By Medusa Stone5 years ago in Families
The Buried Secret
"Incoming!" The warning came too late. A black pail hit Maddie's bent shoulder and clattered to the soft soil at her feet. An accompanying trickle of dirt found its way down the back of her shirt.
By Abigail Leavitt5 years ago in Families
What You Ask For
As soon as I saw it, I knew what it was. It wasn’t supposed to exist – a story made up by my grandfather to excuse his behavior – and yet, I was holding it. My fingers brushed off a layer of dust to reveal the smooth, supple leather covering the little book. There were no marks on the black leather; no initials or embossment indicating what lay between the covers.
By Meredith Bishop5 years ago in Families
I Can’t Forget You
“Control your breathing. Fight your tears Derrick, you're ok”. The voice in my head was comforting and so loud but the news was even louder. The news was like an ongoing siren blaring the ugly truth. I sat stiff on the couch as my mother held my hands. Her lips were moving quickly explaining and filling in blanks, but I was stuck. Stuck on the words “Your mother is dead”. “One, three, fourteen, twelve...” counting usually helps me cope but at that time I couldn’t fully grasp what was real and what I was imagining. I started to see my face vanish from all the family photos that surrounded me in the living room. Faintly I heard myself whisper “What?” desperately needing clarification. My mother explained to me that I needed to meet my father in Jamaica to prepare for the funeral. I have been to Jamica several times because that is where my father is from. However, I still had no understanding to what was happening. I heard my mother Crystal say I was not adopted. She also said that she was still my mother and my father Thomas was indeed my biological father. All that information just added to my confusion. If Crystal says I'm not adopted and she is my mother then how did I have another mother that was dead?
By Monique Peck5 years ago in Families