Frame your story as an adult recalling the events of their childhood.

Posted in Adults on Oct 25, 2022

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✍️ 244 stories

“Accident.” by Nuria Kojic

Submitted to Contest #102

We were just kids. Kids with wild imaginations, neglecting parents, and a handful of Xanax. It was an accident, I can see it now. But, it still happened, and nothing can change that. That day, the one so long ago, changed everything. It shaped the rest of my life; it shaped me into who I am now. And I hate it. I hate that I can be defined by one thing. Reduced to ash by an incident. An incident. It wasn't on purpose. Everything was harder now. Getting a job, partaking in new relationships, even family reunions. It ended up all over the n...

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“Jokes on them ” by TomfliXA Ng’ang’a

Submitted to Contest #102

A stream. Clear water. The laughing hills. Not literally but almost there. Mummy’s and daddy’s mansion at the foot of the hills. The small balcony to the west. Facing a small lake that had no fish. Not a single one. What a wasteland of water if there’s anything like that. My huge room. The ugly expensive chandelier hanging solemnly on the gold painted ceiling. The huge lifeless window. I stood there always lonely. The disgusting king size bed. I didn’t like it at all. Not one bit. I hated it like fuck a guy bad. An organdy oriental rug...

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“The Castaways” by Greg Gillis

Submitted to Contest #102

It has been more than thirty years, but looking back, it feels like only yesterday. It all began back in the late 1980s. It was my graduating year at Madison High School, and I had a feeling that it was going to be “my year”. Growing up, I was known as the loner, the geek, the outcast, and the nobody. Those who did not know me, turned their noses ...

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“Tears of a basket ” by Prince Akatika

Submitted to Contest #102

When I was a small boy, I used to control my parents as if they were robots. It had been an easy feat at the time, owing to my condition. They would come running whenever I orchestrated my signature dogged wail, and mother would pack me up in her arms and sing to me, promising me snacks and goodies. My cry would become inexorable until they had fulfilled these agreements, and as I gobbled my loot, they would eyeball me with mistrust from the gloomy corners, wondering if in truth I had been in need. Hence, I would throw in a few phlegma...

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“The Chicken House” by Tricia Shulist

Submitted to Contest #102

THE CHICKEN HOUSE An abandoned building draws kids to it, like a moths to a flame. And sometimes, they get burned. Allister looked down at what he had written, and sighed. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to write about his own childhood, even under the guise of fiction. He had thought that it would be a good idea — they say to write what you know, but what did he know, really? He only knew what he knew. There were the stories from the others, but what had happened, exactly? His father, a police officer a...

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“The MIddle Child ” by Barbara Mealer

Submitted to Contest #102

The Middle Child Being the middle child isn’t easy. That is something I learned at an early age. First is the oldest child. They are the darling one the parents dote on when born and then make all the mistake while learning to be parents (or not). Then comes the second child. Now that they know the binkie on the floor isn’t going to make the kid deathly ill, they pick up it, rub it against their clothes and give it back. The parents are now comfortable but their focus is still on the oldest who is learning all the wonderful things...

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“Memories” by Tom Sun

Submitted to Contest #102

Some memories are abandoned but a spark of light from seven years ago is something that I can never forget. A life lesson that always lingers around every day. That time, I stared at the same full moon as today. The cobalt plate hung up on top of my head a couple of years ago... “Mom,” my young self called that night. “Why is the moon blue today?” I was curious about everything and I would always make older kids and adults go crazy. However, my mother was never bothered by it. Instead, she seemed to li...

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“Just Me” by E. B. Bullet

Submitted to Contest #102

As a child, I wasn’t sure what constituted a good kid. I kept to myself in gentle hobbies of coloring and reading, keeping to mild mannered behavior. I was not a bad kid, but calling me a good one seemed too far a stretch, as though it weren’t an earned title. Most adults simply thought me shy, a bit too quiet for a growing boy. I thought them right. It seemed to me that adults had the sense of it all, and I’d gathered in my limited mind that my mother was the smartest lady to walk the planet. A woman from Mexico emigrated to America with a ...

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“Mourning Time” by Tamara Shaffer

Submitted to Contest #102

The faces stare out at me from the big red scrapbook, faces of people no longer alive but who formed my history and paved my way into the world. I search for features that resemble my own and marvel at how older relatives looked before I ever saw them. Each recognized face summons memories, torn from the passing of time into segments, like a journal with pages missing. With a sense of eerie sadness, I touch my grandmother’s name. Mary Agnes Tierney. 1880-1960. I knew nothing about her life as a little girl or a young bride, although I know...

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“The Yellow Light from the House on the Corner” by Brittany Weaver

Submitted to Contest #102

I noticed it when I was eleven. My parents were getting a divorce and Mr. McGonnegy said they had been unhappy since I was born. Whenever they fought, Mr. McGonnegy would just look at me and shake his head and say, “They used to be happy, boy. All your fault.” McGonnegy’s cat was just as mean as he was and hissed at me as I ran past his yard. My parents didn’t even stop me; I just bolted out of the dining room and burst out the front door. I ran just to run, to feel my feet punch the hard pavement. It was near midnight, and the street was d...

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“Sweet Innocence” by LeQuitta Randolph

Submitted to Contest #102

You know what's funny? Time. Well its more ironic than funny, but I've learned to laugh at it because it slips by you in what seems like the blink of an eye. I smile at my reflection, my reflection shows me that time, has caught up to me. The days have passed since I've been able to run up to my father and have him swoop me up in his arms and twirl me and dance with me as if there were music playing and and audience that cheered with admiration and awe. My smile becomes a laugh at the memory, however my gaze grows sad as the realization of t...

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“The Body” by Sally Lotz

Submitted to Contest #102

That summer in 1970, the one I turned eleven, was the summer we found the body. The three of us, my cousins and I, have never talked of it since, as we swore we never would. When we’re together the secret we’d sworn to keep, lay there between us, pulled tight, ready to burst at any moment. I remember it all like yesterday, even though most days I can’t remember where I put my keys. Back then, on my Grandparent’s farm in the middle of nowhere Michigan, we were free to roam. Mostly. The only place off-limits - the Frank’s pond. T...

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“Hands” by Eric D.

Submitted to Contest #102

The children of the seaside town joyously ran around the hills holding out their handheld sparkler fireworks beaming bright red, green and yellow sparks of light. After a few hours of feasting, playing and watching the adults light the skies with colorful rainbow explosions, the children would run indoors for an enthralling story time session. Even some of the adults would join in, mainly my brother Johnny who would enjoy chiming in and creating a puffery of sorts."Aunt Aurora!" they endearingly called out. "When can we hear the story of Gra...

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“Memories of home” by Lina Khaert

Submitted to Contest #102

I could not reach for my phone to turn the alarm off which was mounted between the pillows of my bed. Feeling lethargic because I stayed up too late last night due to the pain in my stomach I let myself lay down. I was 6 months pregnant with a boy. Forcing myself out of bed, I reminded myself of the fact that I needed to feed my 5 year old child, who was already sitting in the living room and watching her American shows. Her name was Maria; we had chosen to give her a European name. My husband Ben had been working a night shift...

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““Her...No My….White Dove”” by Lena Martinez

Submitted to Contest #102

“We all have that one person in life that we could trust, protect, love, care for, even sacrifice ourself for. My person was a beautiful graceful kind white dove. My white Dove, that I was supposed to trust, protect, love, care for, and sacrifice for…..in the end I couldn’t do it but someone else did.” My best friend (Loki) and I were like soul brothers when we were younger, we were both popular, smart, handsome looking, athletic, and social. Loki and I would tell each other everything and do everything together. We were inseparab...

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Frame your story as an adult recalling the events of their childhood.

Submissions are closed

✍️ 244 stories

“Accident.” by Nuria Kojic

“Jokes on them ” by TomfliXA Ng’ang’a

“The Castaways” by Greg Gillis

“Tears of a basket ” by Prince Akatika

“The Chicken House” by Tricia Shulist

“The MIddle Child ” by Barbara Mealer

“Memories” by Tom Sun

“Just Me” by E. B. Bullet

“Mourning Time” by Tamara Shaffer

“The Yellow Light from the House on the Corner” by Brittany Weaver

“Sweet Innocence” by LeQuitta Randolph

“The Body” by Sally Lotz

“Hands” by Eric D.

“Memories of home” by Lina Khaert

““Her...No My….White Dove”” by Lena Martinez

🌟 Similar prompts

Start your story with a metaphor about human nature.

Write about a character with an unassailable moral compass.

Write a story about someone losing faith in an institution.

Write about a mysterious figure in one’s neighborhood.

Contest #102

Enter our weekly contest!

$50

Prize money

712

Contest entries

0

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

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