Autobiography
Truth or Consequences
(Content warning: mentions of bullying and violence) A new day dawns. As I’m sitting down to breakfast, I turn on my phone and open Facebook. I mindlessly scroll, and it’s not long until I see it. Some article about some celebrity being canceled for some transgression that happened some time ago. It’s the same thing every morning: the one-sided narrative, the half-truths, the cruel assumptions. If the article itself doesn’t get me riled up, the comments section does. It’s an endless wall of people condemning the article’s subject with death threats or other creative punishments that far outweigh the accusation itself. Or else, they condemn anyone who dares support the accused to the same.
By Morgan Rhianna Bland2 years ago in Chapters
Road to Admittance. Content Warning.
It takes a lot for a person to admit they need help and for me, it took me to lose everything I knew to finally admit to myself that I needed help. I purposely pretended to be fine, denied others reasoning to be concerned and refused to seek help because I selfishly didn't want it. I isolated myself because deep down, I knew nobody around me would be able to understand exactly how I felt. The pain in my chest and my suppressed anger, hurt and confusion all joined up together and made my thoughts become somebody I didn't recognize and often feared. My best friends, Trinity and Briana, knew I was getting worse every time the school bell rang and I had to make my way back home. They knew I had finally given up fighting my depression for my sexual abuse and my mother’s neglect; 5 years was too long to keep trying after the 9 years of abuse. And unfortunately there wasn't much they could do when they looked into my eyes and didn't see the real me anymore as I told them “ I’m okay guys. I’m used to it. Go home, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Reluctantly, we would turn away from each other and walk away and I knew they knew the whispered “ Maybe ” came uttering from my mouth causing unshed tears to gather in our eyes. The sinister me was waiting to welcome me in its arms as soon as I walked in my home and trudged up the steps to the sanctuary of my room. My mental health was in shambles but I wasn't going to admit that to anyone, even myself. It wasn’t until I was alone in a hospital room where everything changed for me.
By Yvonaé Dessus2 years ago in Chapters
Time
I had two choices: Cry a bit longer and risk the whites of my eyes and puffiness around not having enough time to go back to normal, or push the feelings aside and try to focus on something else. The former would have made sense. I had about 20 minutes until my clients would arrive - 5 more minutes to cry, 5 minutes to fix my makeup and 10 minutes to put the mask back on, with its painted smile across it.
By Sabrina Rupolo2 years ago in Chapters
Chapter 22.
As I lie on the warm ground, I am captivated by the paradise glistening across the dark sky. Tranquility washes over me, allowing my lungs to fill with a breath I have been longing for. There is a peace in the night I cannot seem to find anywhere else. Although these moments seem fleeting, I crave them with a fire that encapsulates my soul. It seems idiosyncratic to feel calm in the umbra of night when my days are filled with shadows lurking in places I can’t see. Preparation evades me. How do you fight shadows in the absence of light?
By Alycia Williams2 years ago in Chapters
Chapter 22.
As I lie on the warm ground, I am captivated by the paradise glistening across the dark sky. Tranquility washes over me, allowing my lungs to fill with a breath I have been longing for. There is a peace in the night I cannot seem to find anywhere else. Although these moments seem fleeting, I crave them with a fire that encapsulates my soul. It seems idiosyncratic to feel calm in the umbra of night when my days are filled with shadows lurking in places I can’t see. Preparation evades me. How do you fight shadows in the absence of light?
By Alycia Williams2 years ago in Chapters
In the Middle of Our Mini-KALI YUGA
When I was younger, I went through different phases or obsessions with the mystical and occult. Lucid dreaming, or at least trying to learn how to lucid dream, was one of those phases. Of course, lucid dreaming isn't really occult or necessarily mystical or religious in nature, although it can be seen as "dream yoga."
By ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR2 years ago in Chapters
Heimgang . Runner-Up in Chapters Challenge.
Outside of my front door and across the valley there are three castles each on their own mountain top. I'm living in an old railroad station and the train still runs in front of my house. There is a small road that connects the two closest towns. They are a kilometer in either direction. I am allowed to run all the way to the end of the dirt road where there is a giant buckeye tree. The farmer piles his hay underneath it and when I climb the very top I can almost touch the lowest branches of the tree. There are wheat fields all around my house and I am just tall enough to look over the grass. I love plucking the green and unripe seeds out of the field. They taste sweet. I have a giant backyard and my favorite spot is in the top of the cherry tree that leans just over the fence.
By Adelheid West 2 years ago in Chapters
Into the waves
Saltwater swirled around my outstretched fingers, the chill of the October brine prickling at my ashen skin. The pallid grey-green sky and the eerily calm flow of the tides signaled that a storm was coming- i'd need to batten down the hatches.
By Christiane Winter2 years ago in Chapters
I saved a stranger's life
It all started many years ago when I saw an email going around in my university email's feed. There was a person at my university , in my own department (although I never interacted with her) who needed either a stem cell transplant or a platelet transplant due to her blood cancer.
By Neil Marathe2 years ago in Chapters
