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Category: Stories

  • Would You Love Once or Never Love at All?

    Would You Love Once or Never Love at All?

    My earliest memory of him is when he sat across from me in the cafeteria and asked me about the pictures I was drawing. He asked me questions and wanted to know all about me. And so, I thought, I was in love.

    I saw him in the hallway, where he would smile at me and his beautiful face would light up my day. He would call out my name and ask me how I was, and those were the most wonderful words.

    He was perfect. Everything he did amazed me. I saw him in the mall on the weekend and he wouldn’t stop talking with me. He bought me ice cream. We went for a walk. He asked if I had a boyfriend. 

    Then I saw him with another girl. “I thought you liked me,” I said.

    “We were just friends,” he said.

    So I sat through the next class wondering what I had done wrong. Was it something I had said? Something I had done?

    Months passed. He never talked to me again. But over time, he didn’t look so handsome. His voice wasn’t so beautiful. He stopped walking on air and he came down to earth.

    Ah, love is fleeting. A crush is just a crush.

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    Daily writing prompt
    Share a lesson you wish you had learned earlier in life.
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  • My Secret Yearning

    My Secret Yearning

    This evening I am sitting on the bed, waiting for my mom to return. I wait here like this every time she goes out. Sometimes, a bug comes by, and I fear it’ll land on my head. But fortunately, the bug doesn’t, and I’m safe. Hours pass and the sun moves across the bed, and the light turns into dark.

    When my mom returns, I want to tell her how brave I’ve been. She thinks I have it easy, sitting at home all day and enjoying my life. My life might be easy, but it’s not the life that I want. I want more than to be safe at home. I want to be like her. I want to go out to all the places that she visits. Whether it is for a holiday trip somewhere or something as simple as going to the store. It might be boring to her, but a complete adventure for me. I want to people watch and see what people are doing and where they go. I want to experience what people experience in the movies.

    Tonight, she has gone out to the coffee shop to write with her writing friends. She thinks I had an easy day. I don’t have to worry about paying the bills or even doing any of the housework. She gives me a hug. I’m glad she’s home and I have her company. She says she’s very lucky to have me around. “You’ ‘re a special bear,” she says.

    I suppose we envy what we don’t have. She thinks I have an easy life. Maybe I do. But, just once, I wish I could go out to a coffee shop.

    What would you like to do differently, or try just once, that you haven’t done before?

    Daily writing prompt
    What are you doing this evening?
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  • Losing Track of Time: Growing Up Too Soon

    Losing Track of Time: Growing Up Too Soon

    When I was ten, my parents bought me a notebook. “Tina,” they said, “you talk so much about so many things. Why don’t you write your thoughts down?” So I did.
    I was an only child with an active imagination, so I wrote every day.

    I wrote about all the things that I wanted to say to my parents. I described all the places that we would go as a family if my parents weren’t always working all the time. In just a few weeks, I had managed to fill an entire notebook, so my parents bought me another one.

    “Want to see what I wrote?” I asked.

    “Later,” they said. “Eat your dinner. Do your homework.” Then my dad’s eyes went back to the screen as he checked work emails, and analyzed numbers to see what he could trade. Mom typed on her laptop. Next to her, her planner was open, full of appointments and bright post-it notes. They were both very busy. They were like this every day of the week.

    Another week passed. Then another month, and another year. My parents bought me my own computer but I still preferred the connection of my thoughts pulsing through my fingers to my pen, and transforming into words on the page.

    Over time, my notebooks filled several boxes in my closet. They contained dreams I wanted to fulfill, sketches of places I wanted to go, lines of poetry, random thoughts that made me draw happy faces across the page, or angry words like silent screams across several paragraphs.

    One day, I went to collect all the boxes of notebooks from my closet. “I can’t believe you’re moving out already,” Mom said. “How long did you study for your degree? Is your boyfriend helping you on moving day?”

    “We broke up. We’re just friends now. I told you that last year.”

    “That’s a lot of notebooks,” said Dad.

    “Yeah,” I said. “You once told me to write down all my thoughts, so I did. I just wish I could have shared some of them with you, but you both were always so busy with work.”

    “We gave you a good life, didn’t we?” asked Mom.

    “I guess,” I said. “You did help with the downpayment of my condo.”

    I made sure all the boxes were closed. I was going to keep them sealed for a long time. Years of thoughts were in there, collecting dust and silence throughout time.

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    Daily writing prompt
    Which activities make you lose track of time?
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  • An Invitation One Can’t Refuse

    An Invitation One Can’t Refuse

    Daily writing prompt
    If you could host a dinner and anyone you invite was sure to come, who would you invite?
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    I knew that he would come to dinner because he knew how important this one evening was. Prior to dinner, we had argued. We had stayed in touch, but we hadn’t seen each other in months. It took me courage to ask him to come to my place. 

    He had been there several times before. In the first year, we laughed a lot and spent hours together, collecting memories. In our last year, we had argued less and less until we didn’t have much to say at all.

    “Will you come by?” I asked. 

    “Yes, of course,” you said.

    So I spent the whole afternoon preparing dinner, making the perfect meal with the food that he loved. I wore his favorite T-shirt and jeans. Remember where we were when I first wore this outfit? It was such a fun vacation!

    He arrived on time, which was unusual because he was often late. He gave me a hug and a kiss, which he hadn’t done in a year. Then he saw the food and couldn’t wait to eat it. “I’ve missed you,” he said. 

    “I missed you too,” I said, my eyes watering, “and I’m sorry.”

    Everything was what I’d hoped for. There were no arguments, no anger. When you remember something, it tends to be perfect because your mind selectively edits everything. 

    It removes all the bad stuff, so you only remember the good.

    I stared at the plate of food in front of him, still untouched.

    It was all in my head, of course. In my mind, I’d fixed it all. We were speaking again. No more regrets over things left unsaid, no more agonizing over mistakes we’d made. Just this perfect dinner where he was here again, and everything was perfect. 

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  • The Lesson We Cannot Forget

    The Lesson We Cannot Forget

    Daily writing prompt
    What’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever eaten?
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    The most delicious meal I’ve ever eaten is the meal I had after I found out the truth about my sister. 

    My parents adopted her when I was eighteen and she was sixteen. I never asked for a sister. She was terrible. She borrowed my clothes without asking and we fought about almost everything. 

    One day, I asked my pharmacist uncle for some help. I wanted to get rid of my sister, but I wanted to do it slowly so no one would suspect me. He agreed to help and gave me a bottle of poison. He reminded me to administer it in small doses with each meal so no one would notice.

    Of course, I didn’t want my sister to suspect a thing, so I became extra nice over time. If she wanted to borrow a sweater of mine, I let her, and said I didn’t really like it anyway. And when her nasty pen-chewing habit got on my nerves, I asked her to drop the pen and watch a show with me.

    Months later, our parents noticed and complimented us on how well we were getting along. I really did start to like my sister. “Sara,” my parents said to me, we’re happy to see you’re such a good role model for her.” 

    I wanted to cry when I heard those words. I went to see my uncle and begged him to give me an antidote for the poison. “You don’t want her to die now?” he asked.

    I shook my head. “No. Please save her.”

    My uncle simply told me to throw out the rest of the poison and my sister would be fine. I had been serving her small doses of fruit juice. 

    I was so happy to hear the news. I rushed home and found her helping with making dinner. I helped too. It was a simple meal but it was the best meal I’d ever eaten because I was filled with a feeling of peace and contentment at having such a great sister.

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