Short Story

Often times we find ourselves thinking about the past only to try to force the memories away and return to our current delusion. We can never erase the past, but if the past is who we are, then should we just welcome pain back into our lives? Embarrassment, guilt, and pride betray us as we choose to bury our darkest memories in our head and look to a positive future without ever having to readdress them and acknowledge that they had ever happened in the first place. Thinking back now my weakest moment caught me by complete surprise.

I answered. “Mija, where’s your grandma? Go get her now! It’s important.” that’s all I remembered from that phone call, but the moment I handed my grandmother the phone I saw her bright smile turn into the world’s most darkest frown. Out of the speck of my eyes, I saw small tears running down her face, with big worries she ran quickly to get a sweater and her purse.

“You better be ready because as soon as we get off the plane we will be going straight to your grandpa’s house!” I knew my mom, wasn’t talking to be because when I looked beside me and saw my sister still sleeping like a pig. It seemed like my parents ran as fast as rabbits. Once we got the plane we waited impatiently for 20 minutes to get our bags. Already in the city airport (Guatemala City), we decided to eat first then get a lot of water because the way to my grandpa’s

A voice startled Juana and she looked in all directions until she found the source from behind. Providentially though, these people spoke the same language as her, she was very grateful for that. The song of family, softer than usual, slipped into Juana’s head.

“Vamonos,” said my Grandmother, which means let's go in Spanish. But wait what did I do to make me feel so sick?

“Yes, hang on,” I responded. I handed the phone to my mom. I was anxiously waiting for my mom to get off the phone with Tena.

“I’ll go see grandma today. I’ll be able to take the part of the test I missed during lunch or something, but I’ll never be able to see grandma again, so I think it’s best to see her on her last day.” Maya told her mother her choice. Her mother smiled at her. “Good point and good

"Well, we're done here. Let's go home," I said and began walking towards the entrance with Prism following behind me. "Where'd you learn to read so many languages?" Prism asked. "Your dad taught me some when you guys came to visit for Dia De Los Muertos," I replied back as I untied my horse's reins from the tree branch. Prism's lit up at the memory. "Oh my gods! That was the best birthday ever, especially when your mom made whole bunch of food...." Prism practically drooled at the memory.

“Whatever, let’s go,” I mumbled as I walked through the kitchen and out the door, my siblings following right behind.

My First Memory- Personal Narrative I’ve had many memories during my lifetime, many good, and some bad. My

I wake up seeing nothing, hearing nothing. “Where am I? What am I doing here? Who am I?” I drop my hands to the ground to feel nothing but an ice-cold stone floor. Looking up I see nothing, looking in every other direction, nothing. My hands feel numb and the air sends a shiver down my spine. I slowly get to my feet and blindly search the dark room. My hands land on what seems like an uneven, coarse, wooden table. My hands scramble as I find what appears to be an oil lamp and a box of matches. The lamp is old and greasy. It might at one point have been a high-quality, but it’s now old and tattered. My fingers fumble with the box of matches, spilling them. I finally manage to obtain a match and strike it against the side of the box. The match breaks, they must be very old. I find a second match and strike it against the box, the match flares to life and I light the lamp. The darkness gets overpowered by light as it fills the room.

Memories of a Personal Event The door slammed shut. I wasn't sure what I was going to hear. To be

I go hug my cousins while our mom’s start talking to each other. We went and sat on the sofas. Anisah was wearing a purple tee with blue jeans and pink sandals while Muhaddes was wearing a striped tee with brown shorts and brown sandals.

I continued to watch my mama as her face began to turn crimson and her eyes grew imbued with moisture, and I knew right away that something had happened to my step daddy. I mean, who else could it have been she was talking about? My mama, then said, “Okay… Okay… Okay… We’ll be right there,” as she delicately touched her fingertips to the microphone of the phone before saying, “Thank you,” to the person on the other end and hanging up.

It was a typical day in Xalapa, Mexico, clear skies with a strong sun and a gentle breeze. I was in my front yard, enjoying a swing that consisted of two ropes tied to a branch and a burlap sack as my seat. As I swung I leaned back and I felt the crisp sun on my skin. All of a sudden I heard my mother call my name “Josi”, so I sat up on my swing to give her my full attention. As I see her walking I feel excitement running through my body, because I know we’re going to go somewhere. As I watch her walking towards me, I see the sun shinning on her tan skin and adding a glow to her burgundy hair. With a relaxing tone to her voice, she stated, “ Vamos a ir con tú tía”. Which in english translates to,” We are going to your aunt’s house”. Now she continued speaking, However Since I had just gotten the hang of riding my bike without training