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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write about someone who didn’t get along with their family as a child, but has since found an appreciation for them.

Posted in General on Mar 1, 2021

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✍️ 128 stories

“Independent” by Zilla Babbitt

2001We started the meal with a prayer and I was the only one who didn’t close my eyes. Instead I kept my head up, watching the bowed heads of my relatives. “Amen,” was finally said and the more comfortable sounds of chewing, drinking, and silverware clinking resumed. I struck up a conversation with Jeff, a second cousin, about recent Disney movies and how the old ones were vastly superior. Disney’s us...

36 comments 36
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“A Matter of Life.....or Death?” by Nainika Gupta

What if dying wasn’t the end? What if it was only the beginning of something more? I ponder that question as I lie in the hospital bed, hearing the heartbeat monitor steadily beep next to me and the dripping of the ivy tube. Ever since I was nine years old, I knew that I was going to die soon. The doctors had caught my Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressive, or FOP* for short, at an early age, telling me I had only about ten years to live. My muscle and tissue slowly ossified as I grew older, being replaced by bone. It creates a sort of ex...

27 comments 27
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“Malefice Pt. 1” by Litlover ⌛🌌🦢

"Lariona, get down here. Customers are coming", my mother said, tight-lipped and emotionless. That was what happened when you worked with dark magic for all your life. She, like all my family, extended and close, had never seen what life was like outside of Malefice crafting. They'd drawn me in too, but I was different. I had dreams. Dreams of helping the world, of happy days, not supplying the Maleficers of the world w...

124 comments 124
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“Who I am Today” by ✯𝐋𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚 𝐋𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫✯

Title: Who I am Today Author: Haripriya Authors Note: Hello everyone! I hope you are all having a great Sunday! I took a bit more of an interesting take on this prompt. I didn't really write this as a story, but more of an inspirational piece. I wanted everyone reading this to also feel appreciated by themselves and to show appreciation to their o...

57 comments 57
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“To Be Loved” by Scout Tahoe

You used to take pictures of the women you slept with. Every one of them had a forgettable face and some name that was on the first pages of dictionaries. They were always foggy-eyed when they woke up, whispering through unpainted lips and gathering their bag. The pictures were taken on your Polaroid camera. Those were the ones that came in muted colors and lived at the drugstore. Teenagers used them but you were twenty-seven. The film was expensive but the pictures were worth it. After they rolled out of the camera, you paste...

27 comments 27
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“Step Mother” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

1. My mother and her mother and the women before, had the same problem: being too judgemental. I didn't know then, when her eyes would bulge out, listening to my type of songs that one day she would break the CDs on my table and laugh at it. Of course, I wouldn't know anything. I was a teenager with a naive soul.  When my friends would come home, I'd serve them cold lemonade and laugh with them. When they left, however, my mother would sit down on the kitchen table to pick out who couldn't be a suita...

11 comments 11
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“Together” by Corey Melin

Family get-togethers were a time I considered hell when I was a child.  A time I dreaded for not only were they boring but also had to deal with the disputes that would erupt since I have a family of all types among us.  I heard topics like religion, politics, and lifestyles that should not be in discussions, but it never failed to erupt while I constantly looked at the clock, waiting for the magic hour. “When wil...

13 comments 13
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“Cracked Linoleum: Cracked Cases Part 7” by Meggy House

           “I need to find Alma,” Abigail mumbled to herself, over and over again like a prayer. She paced back and forth, ripping individual pine needles off a small branch. “I need to find Alma. She’s probably dead now. Or giving away all our good information.”           “Alma?” Victor-Vincent prompted. “So that’s her name?”           “What?” Abigail whipped he...

10 comments 10
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“The Last Stage” by I. F.

“Why is there an extra chair?” Mildred asked. I didn’t like Mildred, she was loud. Sometimes when I tried talking to her she would change the topic really quickly. When we were little, she took my toys before I could finish playing with them. It was like living with an alien.  “That’s where mom used to sit,” I said.  “Oh,” Mildred said, “then we don’t need that seat anymore.”

46 comments 46
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“The Seven Year Grudge” by Kylie Rudolf

It had been seven years and two months since my mother had walked down the aisle to another man. He looked nothing like dad. Balding and portly, always with a grin on his face. Mom said that was the reason she fell in love with Frankie Lark, he had the biggest and happiest smile she had ever seen. When dad started hitting the bottle, it was Frankie, a childhood friend at the time, who was the only one to believe that Gabe's breath smelled of brandy and he was always either in a drunken stupor or in a rage. After the divorce, Frankie start...

11 comments 11
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“Repairing Relationships” by Writer Maniac

“No.” “What do you mean ‘no’?” “I mean that it isn’t worth it. Spending that much money isn’t worth it.” “How come when it’s something you both need, spending money is worth it? Whenever I need something is when the money is too much.” “Stop talking to your mother like that.” “Okay then, I’ll just shut up. That’s what is best for everyon...

4 comments 4
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“Truce Muffins” by Nora K

I guess I’m always going to be the bad childI guess I’m always going to be the mad child‘cause you will never understand my weird mind My weird mind And to every single person here that doubts metelling me that they could live without me’cause they will never understand my weird mind My weird mind...-Bad Child, by Tones And IMy old brown boots dampe...

7 comments 7
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“Tight Braid” by ℤ ℍ☮️

August 1st 2001PiperThe feeling of being powerless was terrible. She felt like she was inside a glass box, pounding and banging on the clear walls. Watching the nights pass and days go by. Watching the world laugh and mock her screams like she was nothing but a small flailing ant. Piper clenched her fists, trying to keep the fire inside her. Trying to hold the words that threatened to spill out. She watched her mom scream. Scream. Scream. Scream. Then, she closed her ears until they red...

7 comments 7
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“Hawke” by Beth Connor

The man ambled down the alley back towards the lake.  He was tired, alone.  Always on the outside.  He could never focus for very long. Distractions were everywhere.  His bones ached, and his soul hurt after being surrounded by so many people. It was essential, though, if he wanted to drown out the cacophony of noise in his head. He chose to live apart from the multitude o...

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“"Who's Your Hero?" My 6th Grade Teacher Asked” by Zahra Daya

Trigger warning: Drug abuse and depressive talk. Her chest heaves and falls, this ongoing rhythm creating an atmosphere of serenity and stillness. The AC vent on auto just above her head, a caramel-brown piece of hair dancing in the cool air. I stop typing up my next speech that I am planning to give in less than a week and look at my mum. My eyes start to get blurry as I fixate on this piece of ...

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