Sister Muriel

Sister Muriel, who was also my grandmother, and who I affectionately referred to as granny, was a bit more tired than usual on the eve of December 10, 1958. She headed to the Sisters' dorm a little earlier than usual. She climbed the stairs and enjoyed the cool breeze that blew against her face. That night she felt reflective about the good times with her husband. She missed him. However, the quiet, cool evening allowed her to sleep restfully, that is—until she was jarred awake and saw the entire building lit up around each of the bunks. Muriel’s daughter Barbara, who is also my mother, was on the bunk above. She expressed how beautiful the light was on the hill. By this time the whole dorm was awake. Although it may have seemed beautiful to Barbara, my grandmother Muriel, was

Walker and Flich cautiously pace into the building, we’re supposes to be meeting the rest of the group. Walker tightly carries his little granddaughter, Skye, in his arms as they come in. It was an easy in and out to retrieve Skye from where the Reds were keeping her. Most of the Reds had abandoned the building where all the children and women were kept. They were more worried about their own safety then that of the children’s. Cowards. Most of the children had also run, once all the adults were gone. They weren’t stupid. They knew something was horribly wrong for all the Reds to leave them.

Sister Muriel, who was also my grandmother, and who I affectionately referred to as granny, was a bit more tired than usual on the eve of December 10, 1958.  Slumber seemed to be calling early, so quietly heading toward the dorm seemed to be the best idea to take her tired body. As her feet climbed the stairs, she could feel the cool breeze against her face, and her body seemed to be a little more difficult going up these steep cement steps, there were so many of them. This evening seemed to encourage reflective thoughts, normally she had a smile for everyone, but tonight her mood a bit melancholy, but then again it could be she had a long day serving, or she missed her deceased husband, Merritt.  However, the quiet, evening allowed her to

“But… how could she have been happy, to die?” Ben’s eyes crinkled up, and he fell into his mother’s shoulder. Anna, who had been very young when her great-grandfather had died, also began to cry. The parents comforted the children the best they could, but it was the first death they had experienced in a family that had a history of longevity.

Mia grabbed Mr. Monkey looked up to see Lizzie’s dad pull the trigger and drop to the ground blood rushing from his head as neighbor’s screamed. The police and ambulance came too late. Mia soon ran back to her dad, breathing heavily as she soon burst into tears. Her heart beat fast. Neighbors were crying, screaming “Help!”. As the police and ambulance came everyone was in shock. Mia Was officially scarred for life. As Mia’s mom pulled up to see police tape around her neighbor's house, her jaw was wide open. Days passed as Mia wouldn’t talk. All she would do was climb onto the couch with her big blankie and Mr. Monkey, and watch cartoons all day. Mia did this for 3 days straight. The only time she would eat was when she was really hungry and desperate for food. Finally, her parents took her to see a therapist. Mia would come into the room and talk to Dr. Sandra about what happened for an hour or

Therefore, she turned to the kids and commanded, “I need you all to sit in a group as close as you can get.” She organized them in a clump, again in the center of the tight space. Once they were settled, she announced, “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go get firefighters and we will be free. I promise everything will be okay. You have to listen to me. Sit still and do not move. I need you to yell for help while I’m gone in case a firefighter is near, because he will hear you and find you. I will be right back.” The kids nodded and with that she turned away from them. “Start yelling and turn around!” she demanded. This way, they might not hear her screaming in pain and would not have to watch her leave them either.

Although I didn’t know her but we did exchange smiles. She seemed pleased with life, dancing away all her old age problems to the lyrics sung by the red-haired singer in the busy streets of Brighton. She was clad in a long, subtle pink dress, with floral prints, holding a walking stick in her right wrinkly hand that aided the grey-haired woman in walking. Little did she know, before she stepped out of the four walls of her house, she was about to meet her fate of death.

Even after ninety years of wear and tear on the body her mind is as sharp as ever. But, eventually that too has deteriorated. She has become bed bound, unable to speak, and is confined to her room. Her family visits every single day. Once every couple weeks they also bring fresh flowers and decorate the room. They always spoke about how much Mrs. Banks enjoyed the outdoors and how they wished she could go outside if only for a little while. This is when I found the perfect time to perform my act of kindness. I work every Saturday and Sunday, when management is not in the facility, so it made it easy to do this with Mrs. Banks. With help from a few of my fellow nurses we bathed Mrs. Banks, bought her a new sundress, and carefully lifted her into a recliner chair with wheels that allowed her to be easily manuvured. Then attentively moved her to our patio area on the rear end of our facility. She could not speak, but they joy in her eyes said it all. When her daughters and grandson arrived they seemed concerned when Mrs. Banks was not in her room. Without saying a word I led them out to our patio where their mother was resting quietly. The smile had not budged from her wrinkled face. The daughters were

As Mrs. Mallard heard from her sister about the news of her husband’s death, for a brief moment, she imagined herself in a state of shock as if she was grieving. However, that grief didn’t last long as soon as she kept herself

During the time between her separation and her suicide in 1963, she was extremely depressed and often ill from the cold and draughty apartment where she and her children lived. With no telephone and frozen pipes, her

“LINE UP!” a cold voice yelled as everyone walked out of their houses and formed one line, they walked like zombies, dragging their feet through the grass and stood evenly spaced apart, they had done this every morning since they were born. A 15 year old boy Vinnie wasn’t the type to mess with, but he knew consequences would follow for those who disobey, his 8 year old sister Chastity wasn’t as defiant as she appeared, her looks mistook her for one who causes trouble, their green eyes flashed as if they were constantly hiding something, deep, deep down. “Ok, this is it, I can’t take it anymore. We have to go.” Vinnie whispered to Chastity as a crew mate was being sent to the shock room, followed by a horrific scream, she replied,

Watching her father hold her son on his lap, examining every inch of his chubby little body, warmed Allie’s, heart. Not so long ago, she had been the one sitting in his lap- she was his little princess. Then, she grew older, married, and left home… It seemed eons ago as she stood there watching the two of them getting to know one another. Then, she thought of her mother- worry creased her brow. What if something has happened to her and Addie- they were left virtuously defenseless and having to fend for themselves, Addie had always been a house worker- Did she even know anything about foraging for food?

“It’s ok. I know,” his wife replied with a sigh. “You’ll find work soon enough.”

“I brought your letter for the adoption agency,” Lori said with so much forced cheerfulness that Michael took her by the hand and led her to the kitchen table. Lori saw Brenda at the sink. Her father’s wife glanced at her, took in Lori’s face and turned back to the dishes.

She couldn’t imagine her life ending now. She needed to escape, but how could she? She was helpless. Anxiety and