Start your story with a character saying “Where I come from, …”

Posted in Middle School on Nov 1, 2022

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✍️ 85 stories

“The Truth About Home” by Yvonne Kanoff

Submitted to Contest #164

Where I come from does not exist anymore. The people are gone, the buildings are gone, the pain is gone. It's a good thing, where I come from, has no bearing on my life anymore. Where I come from, is a very small town in rural Arizona in the 1970’s and 80’s. I was five when we moved there, and my mother said I hated it from day one. She always said children adapt, they learn to love new places, new people, new adventures. Not this child, not me. It was hot, it was dirty, and it was scary. I did not like it. Where I come from, was filled ...

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“Where do I come from? You tell me!” by Rolade Berthier

Submitted to Contest #164

Where do I come from? You tell me!“Where I come from” is a phrase that gives me goose pimples. I have answered the question “Where do you really come from” more than a hundred times, and I expect to encounter the same query any moment. Do they mean where I was born, where I have studied, worked and lived, where I have immigrated, or where I feel I belong? The local midwife, armed only with scissors, hot water in a plastic basin and a fluffy purple towel, cut my umbilical cord at three in the afternoon in soaring heat inside a 70-square ...

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“HAZY DAZE” by Susan Catucci

Submitted to Contest #164

"Where I come from."These are four words I never want to hear, and I wish I could tell you why. I become physically ill. I know something happened, I just can't say exactly what it was.I was completely on my own for the first time. Classes had begun and I already had a ton of assignments. I didn't mind. I was anxious to get started and do well, as I had assured my parents I would.The one course I'd signed up for that wasn't academics was theater club. I had enjoyed acting in school plays back home and I thought it would be a fun and effectiv...

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“The Trees Used To Sing” by R. Hann

Submitted to Contest #164

TW: Death, Descriptions of Death, Gore/Violence, War Themes, Descriptions of Corpses, Some Language --- “Where I come from, the trees used to sing,” the Old Man told me, “The Oak would start and the Hickory would join, the Willow would harmonize, and the woodlands would be the center of music and chorus, of love, and of joy.” I snuck away from home every day, avoiding my chores, to hear stories from the Old Man about where he came from. He told me about Varengar, about the city of song, the city of gold, and how every morning the sun ...

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“Walk in My Shoes” by Mary Coutts-Bendsen

Submitted to Contest #164

Where I come from, there are places for the homeless to go in the winter. When I hiked to the Sky Train this morning, he huddled from the wind in that spot on the CBC Building concrete stairs. He's there again, wearing the same red hoodie under his fleece-lined jacket. His grey woolen mittens have no fingers, and his grey jeans have holes above the knees. I walk these two blocks to the Sky Train, day after day, for my job at CIBC. I work, not with the public in one of the teller booths, but down in the basement, alone, counting cash deposit...

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“Return to Ravensbrück” by Robert Hart

Submitted to Contest #164

Return to Ravensbrück I looked down at the letter inviting me by name, Frida Schmidt to the rededication of the Ravensbrück Concentration Camp memorial. The letter’s edge wobbled, exaggerating my trembling hand. I groped behind me, seeking the chair back, and fell on to the seat. As a sixteen-year-old, I had run from those gates into the spring of 1945 when the SS guards herded several thousand German nationals out of the camp. I’d never returned; nor did I wish to: I knew its miasma of suffering, cruelty and evil. It had drained the life ...

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“Grandpa Was Our Glue” by Miriam Anderson

Submitted to Contest #164

"Where I come from..."That's how Grandpa always started his stories. When we heard those words, we would come running, abandoning whatever it was that we were doing just to hear him tell us about his childhood. We would gather in a circle at his feet and gaze up into his kind, smiling face. Or, if we were lucky, he would allow one or two of us to climb up into his great big lap and nestle in the crook of his arm, where we would lean against his chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart.Grandpa was a great bear of a man, even as he gre...

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“Bodger” by Jim Firth

Submitted to Contest #164

CW: Mild foul language‘Where I come from,’ says Heinrich, ‘we don’t bodge jobs.’ Your boss has called you into his office to reprimand you for shoddy workmanship. Again.‘You need to go back and fix the roof,’ he says. ‘And the accident—we’ll get to that in a minute.’ Having your most recent work christened a bodge is a compliment, really. Neglecting to install a waterproof membrane on a new roof is beyond amateurish. If the job had landed in botch territory—the land of outright failure—you may have thrown a hissy fit and kicked ove...

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“City By the Sea ” by Ella Feliciano

Submitted to Contest #164

Where I come from, the history of the city lingers in the crevices of a new age metropolis. Buildings that once stood as a landmark of a planned city forged by hope and offering are now demolished to make way for the updated charms of a new hope… tourism. Only pockets left of what once was… a vision of a city by the sea, a west coast vibe sporting east coast style. It’s weird now to say you live in the same city you grew up as a kid, but there was once a time where that was norm. That’s what you did. I’ve grown up here. I’ve stayed here.....

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“"Joe"” by Hannah Baty

Submitted to Contest #164

“Where I come from,” drawls a male voice with a heavy Southern accent, “we don’t take kindly to folks like you who don’t know their proper place.” The figure of a man in a cowboy hat, obscured in shadow, takes a few steps toward the light. Its hand goes to its hip, as if to touch a holstered pistol. “Where I come from,” the voice continues threateningly, “people like you had better watch what they say, if they don’t want to get into any trouble.” A sandy-haired and mustached white man dressed in a cowboy hat, a button-down checkered ...

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“The flight out of Kabul” by Salmah Ahmed

Submitted to Contest #164

‘Where I come from, tea is the preferred beverage.’ Sarah Yousafzai cradles a cup of lukewarm Starbucks latte. The ring finger and middle finger of her left hand are crooked, and jut out at an odd angle as she traces her spoon with her index finger.‘Oh?’ The reporter, Anna Ramsay, flicks her gaze to Sarah's cup. ‘Why didn’t you order tea?’‘I used to visit this coffee shop in Kabul with my friends. It was called ‘The Cupcake’, it had a very colourful décor, with tiny spotlights encrusting the ceiling. It felt liberating to disappear in there ...

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“Guess Where I'm From Before The End” by J. M

Submitted to Contest #164

Note: this story does mentions a child passing away (not graphic/not the way of passing...just that one has) Where I come from I’m the small lima bean an hour away from a bean I go to look up at Wondering why people gawk and laugh as they look at themselves in odd shapes Wondering why I look even smaller And why people only come see this city Instead of mine Janiyah stood at the mic in front of a crowd of teachers, students, and some of her family members. Her voice shook as she tried to remember her lines, holding her ...

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“We Always Stop To Help” by Glenn Holt

Submitted to Contest #164

Before I saw him, I had read this scientific study. It said the major determinant of whether people stop to help a stranger is whether they are late. That made sense to me.Then he appeared and began to speak in that hypnotic voice:Where I come from, there are no beings like you. Let me explain.People who care always stop to help, no matter how late they are.There are no dogs in shelters or people who have no shelter because everyone lives in harmony.We never need police or military because people always talk it out.The purpose of life is to ...

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“Where I Come From” by Lorilyn Roberts

Submitted to Contest #164

“Where I come from, men are boys and women are girls,” Devin said to his college-age son, Matt.Matt slumped back in the living room chair. He glanced over at his mother, her eyes wet with tears. What could he say to ease the suffering of his parents upon learning that he was gay?“Will you still love me?” Matt asked. “Or will you ostracize me like some Christian parents do when their children embrace a different lifestyle?”His father and mother exchanged glances.“We will always love you, Matt,” his mother replied, “but this is hard for us to ...

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“Let's skip the foreplay, shall we?” by Joanna N.

Submitted to Contest #164

Where I come from people like me are just staff. Tired and hurried, they walk with their heads down and faces closed. Hard workers struggling to make ends meet. It’s not that they are bad, or boring, or that there is anything wrong with them, no. It’s just that they are, well, closed, and so are their faces. Whereas Nino…In the picture I have, Nino sits in front of a painting full of colors and hats – heads in hats, to be precise. And from under the hats, long black braids fall on the backs of uncountable Peruvian women, since all these wome...

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Start your story with a character saying “Where I come from, …”

Submissions are closed

✍️ 85 stories

“The Truth About Home” by Yvonne Kanoff

“Where do I come from? You tell me!” by Rolade Berthier

“HAZY DAZE” by Susan Catucci

“The Trees Used To Sing” by R. Hann

“Walk in My Shoes” by Mary Coutts-Bendsen

“Return to Ravensbrück” by Robert Hart

“Grandpa Was Our Glue” by Miriam Anderson

“Bodger” by Jim Firth

“City By the Sea ” by Ella Feliciano

“"Joe"” by Hannah Baty

“The flight out of Kabul” by Salmah Ahmed

“Guess Where I'm From Before The End” by J. M

“We Always Stop To Help” by Glenn Holt

“Where I Come From” by Lorilyn Roberts

“Let's skip the foreplay, shall we?” by Joanna N.

🌟 Similar prompts

Write a story in which someone returns to their hometown.

Write a story about coming of age in a big city.

Write a story where a local takes a newcomer under their wing.

Think of someone who stood on the periphery of your childhood memories (a classmate, a teacher, a neighbor) and cast them as the main character of your story.

Contest #164

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

235

Contest entries

91

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

Explore more writing prompt ideas: