Crying

The Wolf family seemed to always have what they wanted. Nothing any of them did was short of impressive. Marcus the seventeen year old son was an example of that. Marcus was a fairly big kid and sports were his life. Short in stature but his musculature made up for it. Sports weren’t really the favorite thing to do for Marcus. He would usually spend his days drawing or when he got bored of that playing video games. When he didn’t have time off it was probably because he was on the football field

Jinyoung sat with his legs beneath himself in front of his small table not tall enough to reach his knees. He was tired from working all day at his numerous low paying jobs. Even the bright lights of Seoul were still too dim to light up his cluttered yet empty kitchen. He slumped back down, now imperfect posture, as he stared at the pile of bills in his hand. Tears threatened to leak from his eyes until he heard his daughter Rosé enter the room, quickly he hid the papers and presented a smile on

that she had cancer, I was in denial. The day I found out I had just came home from spending the weekend by my friend’s house. When I walked into the living room, I could tell my mom was crying because she quickly tried to dry her eyes before I realized she was crying. But, it was too late I had already seen her crying. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “Come sit down, I got something to tell you,” she

suppose to have? How? I don’t understand.” she fell to her knees and began to weep. “My son, he was only 16, and they killed him because they thought he was a disguised soldier. I never even told him he could fight in the wars. He didn’t know,” still crying she continued for the rest of her family, “They killed Jojo, right in front of me and told me he was nothing, but a little chinese baby, they cut him piece by piece in front of me with a bayonette. My daughter, they took her into the camps, where

I’ve always thought that older brothers/sisters were invincible,that nothing could defect your superhero the person that has always been a role model. That nothing will hurt or even bother your role model. Hard to think that one moment can drastically alter everything that made your superhero super, that one moment can rock your world and everyone in your world. To come to the realization that the world is full of people that marauder. My Crucible isn’t something that happened to me but it affected

mistake. She ran right out of our class and to the office, letter in hand. My name was called over the PA system to come down and I nearly fainted. When my teacher found out why I was going down, she started crying, which led to my whole class crying. My plan had worked, I had the whole school crying because they thought I was going to die. I felt like I was going to die. The assistant principal immediately began to grill me with questions; my eyes began to pour. My mom was called in and I was able to

Obstacles of migration The way we battle through adversity and recover can often times define who we are. But sometimes no matter how you battle through adversity, coming out on top is impossible. This problem is expressed in the short story The Land of Sad Oranges by Ghassan Kanafani which reveals a story of the journey and settling of a family exiled from their homeland of Palestine. This family constantly recalls oranges and orange trees, which were very prevalent in their homeland. The oranges

I flipped through the pages of the travel brochure aimlessly. It was horrible, traveling to Hawaii in the middle of December seemed foolish. I tossed the brochure abruptly in the trash can and reached for another. As foolish as traveling to Hawaii in December may sound, I am eager to finally leave my life in Los Angles for a while. Things get really crazy around here in December; with preparations for Christmas, and not to mention my birthday coming up on the twenty-first. Since we are traveling

rings, I sit in my seat at the corner of the room and notice that Kaylin, who sits behind me, is crying. Her face is red and blotchy and she is staring at her phone. I choose to act like I do not notice, because it must have been a rough morning and I would not want anyone bothering me if I were in her position. Then Abbie, who sits in the desk beside Kaylin, comes in a few minutes late, also crying. Lauren and I exchange confused glances, and I suddenly realize our teacher, Mrs. Hendrix, isn’t in

The hospital room is a cream color and gave off a depressing mood. Faint noises of crying come from other rooms. Picking up my arm to stretch, but unable to move as thoughts start rushing to my head. A familiar face steps into the room. Her eyes a red color from crying I can tell. She has wavy brown hair and an hourglass figure. Small and tan she hesitantly walks closer and lies a small hand on my head. That's the last thing I remember before I black out again. On my way to the race my hands are