family

Family unites us; but it's also a challenge. All about fighting to stay together, and loving every moment of it.

The Kingdom
It is hard not to think about money and riches when you are apart of the poorest families in the world. Daily we go ravaging through garbage cans and begging for food. We beg so much that the dogs in our city trying to give us their portions. Most days I look out the windows of these broken-down buildings we live in trying to believe that one-day things will change for my family.
By Jeromy King5 years ago in Humans
Leaving the G-H-E-T-T-O
One of my greatest accomplishments last year was moving our family out of the hood. In our old neighborhood the community has high crime and murder; crime was so high that the local store and pharmacy went from being open 24 hours to being closed at 9 P.M. because local trouble makers kept stealing and robbing .
By Aset Ra5 years ago in Humans
Domo arigatou Bitcoin Boy
Charene was stuck in traffic and getting more irate by the minute. She'd had the usual over the top busy day at work and all she wanted to do was get home to her apartment, cook dinner and collapse on the couch with a glass of wine. She didn't know if her teenage son Ethan would be home - lately he stayed out more often than in and even though he was only 14 there was little she could do about it. Ethan's father was not on the scene, after leaving Charene earlier that year for "the Skinny Bitch" as Charene called her. And to make matters worth her beloved brother Eric had recently died of pancreatic cancer, which was a blow she was still reeling from. When Richard left her after 24 years it was a shock, but when Eric died it was a visceral blow that still at times left her gasping for breath with the pain of knowing she'd never see him again.
By Helen Smith5 years ago in Humans
Mirrors
My father was the town drunk and my mother the town whore. As hard as that is to admit, it was the only truth I knew. His excuse was “shell shock” from the Korean war, hers was she did what she had to do. His beatings were brutal and always blamed on the alcohol. Her “male friends” were blamed on his alcoholism. His physical abuse on me was because “he loved me.” Her mental abuse was because “she never wanted a girl.” When he came home it was to pass out. When she came home it was to introduce a new “uncle.” When he beat her to put her in the hospital it was “ because she had it coming.” When she didn’t fight back it was because “that’s just what women do.” Her throwing him out then always taking him back was “undying love.” Him losing the house in a poker game was “his drinking buddy cheated.” At the tender age of ten, when he took his own life, I was somehow strangely relieved. When she died I was 36 and with that death I hoped I could forget my traumatic childhood. I was wrong.When I looked in the mirror, she was all I could see.
By Gail S.5 years ago in Humans
A heart of gold
The day my world changed I remember everything, the lights of the ambulance, my sister crying, my mother’s screams and even the people that helped her. That day my father was at work and my mother needed to get to work also. So my mother decided to bring my sister and I to our grandparents house. My mother can not drive so we had to take a bus there. We had just come off of a bus coming from the direction of our home and transferred to another bus that would take us straight to their house. I lived in a city where everyone is rushing trying to get to their destination, not really caring about the people around them. Pedestrians had to be careful crossing the street or they could get hit by careless drivers. The bus drivers in our city are notorious for letting you on the bus and speeding off not caring if you are seated or not. My grandparents home was only one stop away. Like always my mother made sure that me and my sister sat down before anything. My sister has down syndrome so she does not have very good balance and any fall for her can be fatal because of her neck. After making sure me and my sister were seated, my mother went to go put bus fare in the machine and at this point the driver is already driving off. On her way back is when the accident happened, the bus driver slammed on the brakes resulting in the bus jolting forward and my mother went flying. In the process she smashed against the bar handles many times really hard resulting in the ambulance being called and her injuring her back. After that day our life’s have never been the same since then.
By Rianna 5 years ago in Humans
Never Stop Believing
The girl dreams of fairy tales. Not because she believes in prince charming but because she still must believe in magic. Believe that good will concur evil. Believe that there is still love in the world. Believe that having imaginary friends is okay because she had so many. She had many conversations with her imaginary friends because before the age of 11 she had been to 13 different schools and at this point she had learned she only had herself to count on. As long as she can remember it has always been about survival.
By Melissa Buchanan5 years ago in Humans
Childhood of Nightmares
Many times, writing is an expression of emotion, a way to guide through your memories and share your experiences with others, or a recollection of what has happened or may happen. Here’s a brief story of my experiences, and how I felt at the time.
By Connor Lenhart5 years ago in Humans
The Burden of Bitcoin
I would never amount to anything. Years and years of my life spent developing this ‘pet project’ would all be in vain. Dad always reminded me. I could be married with kids and living a simple life in the suburbs. Mom always wanted that for me. It felt like the world around me didn’t understand what I was trying to create. Their lack of imagination for the future made them brush me off like a naive twat. They laughed at me from the sidelines, berated me in headlines, and desecrated the sanctity of my beliefs.
By Laura Leung5 years ago in Humans
Dream Chaser
Edwin sits, frantically studying his finances, thumbing through bill after bill trying to figure out how to manage what he sees as the opportunity of a lifetime to study music if he can afford it. As time goes by, that goal seemingly beyond reach, he decides to give himself a mental rest break and picks up his journal to begin the lyrics of a new song he had been running through his mind. As he picks it up, he notices the rough shape his book is now in, far from it was when he came across it, a mysterious little book that somehow ended up mixed in with his school things with the only information in it the words “Dream Chasing” along with the date March 18,2001 written the the faintest of pencil marks.
By Michael Goins5 years ago in Humans
A New Balance
I was fourteen years old when I found out good people do exist. They're not a fairytale like I'd believed. My father wasn't the most polite man on the planet and he certainly didn't believe in kindness. He was brash, unforgiving and made it clear the only person we could ever trust was ourselves. I came from a family that didn't hug or say I love you. We didn't dare rely on each other let alone someone outside of the family.
By Ashley Varner5 years ago in Humans
Friends and Family are Overrated
“Don’t talk to strangers!” Remember your parents’ #1 chant in your childhood? You were to strictly maintain proximity to them or their whitelist of trustworthies — everyone beyond that radius was potentially malicious.
By Mutasim5 years ago in Humans
Which One
It is often the simple gestures that are easily overlooked. It is easy to take for granted something that is practically seen everywhere, but not often as deeply contemplated as it should be. The best example would be the picture shown above. The only reason I gave any second looks to this two-year old picture is because the complex thoughts about a topic like good deeds, is what sparked my decision to look twice at this photograph and really think about the fundamental question a topic such as this brings to mind: Am I a good person?
By Camila Marte5 years ago in Humans