humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
Magic in the lost world
I woke up one stormy night to a loud bang. I thought it was just the thunder. Well, that was until I heard the maid scream. I got up grabbed my robe and ran out of my room. Down the long hall to my mother's room. To see the maid standing in front of my mother's room with her hands over her mouth. A look of shock and horror on her face. I moved swiftly past her to see my mom laying on the floor. With her cold dead eyes staring into the mirror. I moved closer to the mirror to see what she had seen. I saw nothing. Then I looked harder. At the bottom right-hand corner was a piece of paper. Before anyone saw me I grabbed the paper. Turned to take a closer look at my mom. When I realized the bang was not a gun. I had no idea what it was I just know it wasn’t a gun. I turned and ran out of my mother's room feeling the warm tears start to fall. I didn’t want the maid or my brother to see me like this. I ran to my room put the paper in my desk draw. Wiped my eyes and set down on my bed. When I had a flashback to when my dad had been killed. Even then it had been storming and I was awakened by the same bang. There were no holes for a bullet. However, there was a burn on their right wrist.
By Haven Queen5 years ago in Humans
Quarter Past the New Year
It’s a quarter before midnight, we are all impatiently waiting for the bell to drop. The ads on your phone are spitting these low price gym memberships and healthy food grocery membership plans at you. It's time to change, it's time to improve, is that what really is important to you, however? Let's all get fit! Let's all go to the gym, buy that membership, why not? In reality, you probably aren't going to buy the memberships at all, maybe you already have one and you use it. These things are deemed to be the New Year, new you goals. But they aren't for me, and I’m only a second-year college student.
By kelsey pratt5 years ago in Humans
A Girl of Ink
In a little black book, pages are empty. Waiting to be filled with stories of life. Not knowing the future or what exists outside. These pages exist to lend us a hand. To show the past. Never repeat again. For good or bad, the past stays in the past. As distant as the future it can't change or repeat. It haunts our lives without a reason why. So in these pages, a journey lies. A journey through time. One can only hope is filled with love. For without it this story will be told from above.
By Kyle Skinner5 years ago in Humans
You saved us all!
It was cold, icy cold. The kind of cold that separated me from my surroundings, trying to stay focused on getting back home as quickly as my frost bitten feet would take me. Barely noticing the white kissed foliage and shimmering pavement beneath my feet. I'd never been a fan of the Winter months. It was painful. Aching joints, lost circulation, surely I was too young to feel this old.
By Deborah Womersley 5 years ago in Humans
Gate 22B
Crap. A tired, sesame seed bagel-wielding Donovan Pepper was staring up at the departure board, which was now displaying an ON TIME for Pan-Atlantic Airlines Flight 207 where it once read DELAYED. When and how did that happen? He muttered to himself. The one time I was thankful for an extra few minutes, they actually speed things up! Betcha that’ll never happen again. He sighed, pivoted, and quickly made his way toward Gate 22B, thankful that he at least didn’t have to change terminals. He checked his watch, which read 11:21 PM. Should only take about five minutes to get there, plus maybe an extra five for — OOF!
By Michael Britt5 years ago in Humans
A seat at our table
I found myself scrolling aimlessly through Facebook trying to find some serotonin. A few memes in I found my feed inundated with articles about the plight of African Americans within America and how reform throughout multiple institutions could ease some of the stress experienced by blacks. I sigh as it is only the second day of Black History Month. I know the intentions behind these articles. To start a dialogue between African Americans and their Caucasian counterparts. This particular article was written by a local reporter interviewing a local pastor. The pastor speaks about his plight as a black man and how it shouldn't be a burden to be black. The author of the article was genuinely trying to capture the emotions and weight of what the pastor was trying to relay. After reading the article, I made an emotionally taxing mistake. I looked at the comment section. Like many black social media users before me I fell into the trap of wanting to see what my community had to say about the article. Were they receptive? Did the article accomplish it's goal of starting a dialogue? Sadly but most importantly, very predictably no it did not. I am genuinely getting to the point where I despise articles like this. They're hastily written and barely go into depth on the topic at hand. Most importantly, they’re posted on social media with little to no real chance of actually starting a conversation but instead fostering a community sense of shared hatred. Instead they open the flood gates. The floodgates for trolls to attack POCs discussing the rhetoric of the interviewer with the interviewee. The floodgates for the “i don't see race” people to silence and erase the pain being discussed in the articles. The “you have the same opportunities” crew and the “here we go again. Squekiest wheel gets the most oil” team forcing their way into the conversations of those who just want to talk. Suddenly we are chastised for wanting to speak about our issues and not being inclusive to those who are exclusive to us. How dare we even think to discuss our community without the explicit consent of our counterparts. How dare we even fathom bringing up the institutions that oppress us. Our counterparts use them and it is very inconsiderate of us to want them dismantled. They demand a seat at our table and when a chair is pulled up, they take over the table. “Why can't I talk about me?” “I get followed in stores too” “I worked hard for what I have because of that I should be allowed to call you an animal”. It's emotionally taxing. Especially during Black History Month, when we know more and more articles like this are going to be crapped out. More and more “you’re not a slave anymore! Get over it” “you’re all just welfare queens and jail house kings”. More and more “but black on black crime” and “only 13% of the population but does 55% of the crime” people get to once again have another place to voice their hatred for black stories and life. Their words are once again in our faces denying us even a measly article to talk about our discomfort. And again Black people find ourselves having to defend ourselves from the attacks of the people who strong armed a seat at our table. We were talking and now we have to stop to defend ourselves from the deadly fragility of our caucasian counterparts. We were decompressing and now we have to reshrink ourselves to make room for their egos in our space. Black people could simply swear off the comment sections and synthesize the articles internally without discussing on social media. We could absolutely do that but that would also mean denying us the same community that is protected for others. A real cultural dilemma. And the sad part is, it's only day 2 of Black History Month.
By Lailani Amaro 5 years ago in Humans
Being Me
I expect great things from myself. However, I feel like I have failed at nearly everything I have attempted. I am meant for greatness. I know how cliche that sounds but it is true. I am not meant to just sit in some office or taking phone calls for some company that doesn’t care about me. I want to change the world. I want to make a difference! I wake up every single day and think about how I can possibly become who I am supposed to be before I am too old. I am 24 years old and I feel like I am quickly losing time to be who I want to be. There are so many things that I want to do in life and I haven’t accomplished a single one of them! Or so I thought. I have many dreams that I am extremely passionate about and they all feel so far away. My first dream is to be a famous photographer. I dream about being a famous author, I dream about being a social media influencer and a mental health advocate. Having so many big ambitions quickly becomes extremely overwhelming to the point that it’s hard for me to even attempt any of them, especially with my adhd I don’t even know where to begin! No matter how many videos I make, stories I write, or pictures I take I feel like I am not making headway with any of it. Some days I feel like I am destined to be like Vincent Van Gogh, only appreciated once I am gone from this earth. This thought haunts me often and even though it sounds horrific it honestly brings me peace knowing that even if I am never appreciated while alive my light might live on and my passion and art might outlive me. My absolute biggest dream is to change the world in some way which I think I have. Maybe not in the huge way I had always imagined, but in a bunch of small ways. I will continue to push myself to follow my dreams and to be the person I know I am meant to be but sometimes I need to remember to look at all the small accomplishments along the way and realize that maybe I haven’t failed as many times as I thought I had. Maybe I have accomplished more in life than I think and maybe just maybe I will be who I want to be long before I am gone. Maybe there is someone out there who is my biggest fan and I don’t even know it. Maybe I am doing better than I think. It is possible that I am being too hard on my self, but I see all of the people I went to school with accomplishing so many things in their life and I feel so far behind. I am not going to quit trying and fighting to be the person I know I can be, but sometimes I just want to give in and be who society wants me to be. Society wants me to be invisible, it wants be to be compliant and it doesn’t want me to question anything. That’s just not who I am. Some day I will be who I want to be and maybe that someday is closer than I think. Maybe I have already began to become the person I was meant to be and I just haven’t realized it yet. Maybe I will accomplish everything that I want to accomplish. All I know is that I will never stop working hard on becoming the person I know I can be. I will wake up every single day with a plan of action on how I am going to get further in my plans. Sometimes I forget to just enjoy the moment because I am too distracted by the future and how I want it to be. Maybe enjoying the moment will help me become who I want to be. How do I find the fine line between looking too far into the future and just enjoying the moment? How can I do both? How can I enjoy the moment when all I can think about is that I am no where near where I want to be in life? Maybe I need to stop for a moment, take a breath and realize that living in that moment and doing what I love today will help me become who I want to be. Life is just so vast and so stressful, knowing I will never have enough time on this earth to accomplish everything I want. Hopefully one day I can look in the mirror and see the person I have anyways wanted to be, but today I think I’m just going to look in the mirror and love who I am.
By Destiny rios 5 years ago in Humans
A Drug Addict Saved My Life
I keep vampire hours. They say PTSD may be the cause. I haven’t been to war. I’m not even in the military or law enforcement. Before all of this, I was a self-employed medical courier. The worse trauma I was subjected to was an unwanted kiss planted on me by a forward 80 year-old white haired white man who thought he needed to grace me with his slobbery New Year’s Eve blessing.
By Robin Jessie-Green5 years ago in Humans
