Leah's Short Story

Trista had always been a normal kid except for her stories. It wasn't that they were disturbing or horrific, they were just unusual. Sometimes they seemed exactly like the kind of thing you'd expect from a kid, but other times, I'd have to look at her and wonder how she came up with such things. It started when she was four, shortly after our dad split, leaving the two of us on our own.

Dorothy Allison's voice is one of authenticity, experience, and wisdom. This is apparent in her recounts of her mother's death and rape by her abusive stepfather as a child. She uses her storytelling as a way of sorting out her inner demons and memories of her broken life, “the [story] I wish I could make you hear,” as she says, because “the need to tell [her] story was terrible and persistent, and [she] needed to say it bluntly and cruelly, to use all those words, those old awful tearing words” (39, 42). She strives to get to the root of her own unresolved issues and, by her own admission, “[works] to make you believe [her]”:

After losing a family member, Kiara’s eyes opened, and she remembered what this person said to her. So, she realized that she had to make them proud and do it for them. That was one of the things that put Kiara where she is today. Kiara was very excited about enrolling in college. Furthering her education was going to be the key to success in her eyes.

Melinda’s personality changes dramatically over the course of the summer which leads her to have no one to be with on the first day of school because of the hate crimes that happened at the party.

The new environment was a well-needed change, and we quickly began school that August. Everything for once was manageable and running smoothly. Then, I blinked, and when I opened my eyes, high school was over, and I was facing an ultimatum presented to me by my mother; either I go to college, or I move out and figure my own life out. I resentfully chose the first option.

The smell of burnt things filled Allison's nose. If she weren’t in so much pain, it would’ve been hard to decide which smelled worse: the burning rubber, the burnt hair, the Sheriff’s smoldering corpse, or her own blistered and charred body.

“I knew there was poverty in the world, but it was never as real to me as it was then. “ It was then that I realized how much I had.”

Little Lexi Wilson has always been little and bossy. I’m an extreme extrovert and always have been. In Kindergarten had many friends because of how talkative, outgoing, and energetic I was. I wish I could go back to simpler days when you were friends with everyone. You could play games all day with anyone and it didn’t matter. One day you could be mad at someone, but the next day you would be fine, and act like nothing ever happened. Since friendship was simpler and I had a big person I had many friends and loved my class. Mrs. Stacy was a great teacher I played in the reading tub and every memory I have of that class is amazing. However, there is one dark spot I loathed Maddie Leffler and my bad memory involves her.

“Junior!” Dee-rock screamed as he crawled over to his son and covered his body with his.

By Saturday afternoon, the eighty-seven residents in the rural southern town of Wrongberight have borne the wrath of four days of intensive intermittent rainstorms. Yet another storm approaches the town from the northeast, augmenting their woes. One of the locals, Clemmy Sue Jarvis since birth has lived here and has a homespun philosophy concerning weather – ‘weather will be weather and it will not prevent her from doing as she damn pleases’. Therefore, around four on this particular Saturday, as ominous clouds lace the sky and soaring Pines bend to the rhythm of gusting wind, she lifts her petite frame into her rusty Ford pickup, and gradually eases out of her driveway. Cautiously, she turns onto Flat Bottom Road and follows it south

Does where we come from define who we are? Perhaps in some ways it does, however it doesn’t describe our whole structure. There are many aspects to take in to consideration when analyzing where we come from and who we are as a person. These are not the same thing and many times people assume that if you are from another country or another community than you become that country or community. Jennifer Landenhauer, is a great example of this, she is a 27 year old, mother of two, with Cambodian ancestry who is married to a Latino man. The parents and grandparents were refuges who immigrated to the United States in the 1970’s after the Vietnam War. Jennifer’s parents were unable to care for her in the manner that they saw fit and she was placed in a foster home where she later was adopted by a white family who raised her in the suburbs of Washington D.C... As Jennifer grew up she struggled with her identity as she appeared to be of Asian descent but knew very little about her heritage. Needless to say she felt trapped in a world that she didn’t recognize

I woke up to Lauren laughing loudly in her room. I got up and went in there to see Sam tickling Lauren. They were laying in her bed. "Good morning beautiful," Sam said when he saw me. "Morning," I replied. "Momma," Lauren said. "Morning Laur," I replied picking her up. "We're going to the studio today," I said. "Yay," Lauren yelled. "Let's get you dressed," I said. I put Lauren in a blue shirt with white polka dots and a teal owl on the bottom. I paired it with yellow shorts. I French braided her hair and slid in a yellow bow. I handed her off to Sam while I got dressed. Then we headed to the studio. When we got there, a producer told me where to go. I walked into a studio to hear singing. I looked over to see none other than

The readers really get a clear sense of what Maisie is feeling and how she is isolated. This feeling is captured through James’ use of third person limited narration of Maisie and gives readers a better insight on her interior experience.

As the end of the night approached us, I couldn’t stop thinking about how many mixed emotions I had about starting a whole new chapter in my life. I couldn't wait to go to college, meet all new people, get a degree so that I could start my career path, but I knew that meant I had to say goodbye to my two best friends, who were moving several hours away from me. This was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do in my life. We all cried a little, and then made promises to keep in touch, and then we were off into the real world! I was very happy to be at this point in my life, but I was scared deep down inside.

Long ago in ancient times the romans would take young kids to get them to fall into slavery and be sold. They would have cruel training methods. One of the victims was Ella. This is her story. Once there was an eight-year-old girl, waiting in the garden for her to mother came back. Ella was just peacefully listening to the birds sing. It wasn’t a closed garden so everyone in the village could see her. Everyone one knew her as a friendly, cheerful child, little did she know a group of men were watching her from many locations and distances, no one knew what they were planning. As she sat down someone snuck up from behind a starting choking her, all she could remember was everything fading out.