Like You

A famous quote by Elizabeth Gilbert is “Your emotions are the slaves to your thoughts, and you are the slave to your emotion.” I find so much truth in this due to the fact that I am a very impulsive person who makes most of my decisions on how I am feeling in that particular moment. There are so many emotions that run around in my head, one of the main one’s being love. Love is not something that you can fake and still find genuine happiness. The biggest source of love in my life is my family…

Imagine this: Fighting everywhere you look. There are families you may see one second, but the next second they have disappeared. Everywhere you look there is evidence of bombs and you can’t have one moment to look away. Syria is the battleground of one of the biggest and most violent civil wars we have seen taken place. There are innocent people that are dying from every side of the conflict. From where I am standing, there is no end to this gruesome event. The president, Bashar al-Asshad…

hopped out of the truck. “You want to hear a plan, how about I show you instead.” Duke ran out his truck after to me and grabbed my arm. “Wait Nea you can’t just walk up to the house like that,” he whispered “Watch me.” I raised my hand to knock on the door and it opened revealing Sourdi with the baby on her hip. “What are you two doing here?” It wasn’t the shock of not seeing Sourdi after all this time it was because she had a bruise on her cheek. “What happened to you?…

to Say Phoenix, Arizona, Victor is a complex character in ways. On the outside he is more closed off and and tries to act “normal” and that he is above others who aren’t in that definition of normal. But on the inside he knows that he shouldn’t be like that. He holds regret for treating Thomas Builds-the-fire the way he does growing up. They were friends when they were younger, but by their teenage years Victor had drifted away. One night, “when they were fifteen and had long since stopped being…

The clock struck midnight. Four of my closest friends piled into the back seat of my car and convinced me to drive them to an all-night party. Reluctantly, I slumped into the driver’s seat and began to drive. All my life, I dreaded a night like this, and tried to avoid it at all costs. After all, I loathed making decisions that made people think differently of me. Knowing the tough choice I would have to make later that night, and trying to ignore the mess of thoughts that tormented me, I turned…

He slammed me against the locker. Pain spread through my body like wildfire. “Give it to me or you’ll suffer more than this,” he gritted through his teeth. “I don’t have it,” I managed to get through. A punch to the stomach. So much for standing up to bullies. After thirty seconds or so in pain, I stood up, thrusted my hand into my pocket and shoved a $4 bill into his chest. “Next time, don’t try to be so brave,” he breathed. And he walked away clutching my money in his hand. Everybody knew that…

“I wanted to climb like the big kids.”…

usual horrible self. He barked at me to move the compartments again. It took me most of the day to move them all, but it was Carl’s taunts the whole time that infuriated me. “You seem to do better when you’re angry,” he sneered at me when I moved the last one and let it fall down with a deep echoing crash. “You’ve proven that you can move objects, but now it’s time to see if…

Some of you will remember this story. It was ten years ago, and I was employed then as a forensic psychologist in Marin County. Much of my work involved talking to criminals, then testifying as to their sanity in a court of law. On the afternoon this all began, for example — that afternoon when I blacked out in Sara Johnson’s apartment — I was scheduled to examine a man who’d been accused of strangling his wife. Because of that incident, and all that has happened since, I know many people will…

My head was spinning all over the place. It felt like I’ve been punched on my head several times with a brick; I felt consciously blind. I was breathing heavily like I’m gasping for air. I couldn’t move much but hear weird noises echoing repeatedly through my brain, I felt myself moving, shaking back and forth, ‘’Monica! Monica! Can you hear me?’’ I felt myself flat on the floor and I could feel a cold breeze touching my soft delicate skin. Why did he let go of me? Why has it gone silent? I…