Lit Creative Nonfiction

I awoke to the smell of her cheap perfume filling the air. “Mom?” I asked confused.   “Get up,” she growled, scratching the skin of...

“I didn't recognize you at first.” I had just walked into my first period when I was greeted by the confused stare of a classmate...

When my mom told me we were going to visit my dad’s parents the next day and my grandmother was going to prepare lunch,...

I was always a little plump. Plump meaning "having a full, rounded shape: slightly fat." As a child, people referred to it as my...

The sunset reflected on your brown eyes. The air was cool, and there were many people around. But somehow, I only saw you. We...

Crashing waves on the endless blue horizon, the skies from which rain pours after a long drought, this resembles his eyes that I involuntarily...

I want to be a writer. I'm beginning to realize that, in order to do this, I have to lose my mind. I have...

Imagine ink flowing onto paper. So softly, the particles spread from the golden tip, creating the words that corrupt and consume my brain. The...

Each morning I hid the girl I saw in the mirror -- the girl that no one else saw but me. She was me...

I used to be a dancer. I spent twelve years of life dedicating my time to the beautiful art. My nights would be spent...