Fiction
Marísol Hernandez was more than just a pretty girl, she was la hija de Gael Santiago Hernandez, el cocinero of the acclaimed Los Angeles restaurant Carmela’s. Like the Hispanic Gordon Ramsey of the culinary world, Gael raised Marísol to learn a multitude of harsh culinary techniques, which included more than a few nails being either
quickening her pace to make it to the train before it’s doors fully closed, olivia sat in the first place her alerted eyes landed on. her mind was going a million thoughts per second, and she couldn’t focus on her surroundings completely. breathing slowly and giving herself words of encouragement, she fished in the bag
Ophelia sat in the darkness of her hollow room, the white sheets strewn wildly across her bed. A cold sweat dripped from the corner of her forehead, and slowly, she gulped. Her stomach ferociously growled, the edges of her eyes darkened and her glowing complexion faded to a ghostly, pale-white. She was not the girl
A big topic that’s up for debate, for some reason, is women’s health care. Our current federal government seems to think that a debate is necessary when it comes to this topic. This short story was written to show us that women, men, and all the genders in between deserve fair, equal access to affordable
“Go, they said. It’ll be fun they said!” yelled Connor from the backseat of the car as he hit his face against his palm. “Oh calm down. It’ll be fun. I promise,” quickly responded Thad trying to alleviate his friend’s nerves. After all, it was Thad’s plan to go to the House of Fears.
Raise your wands in unity once more- this time, to celebrate twenty years of magic and wonder. Twenty years ago, a book was released. This wouldn’t turn out to be just an ordinary book, destined to end up on the dusty shelves of second-hand bookstores, after having lived out its days of popularity. No, this
Walking out of the ugly prison otherwise known as school on the last day of the year always gave me a sort of liberating sensation. Knowing I wouldn’t have to return for another three months was a blissful sensation. But acknowledging that when I came back in the fall I would be a senior and afterward have
This short story is inspired by a moody southern gothic picture and tells the story of the house seen in the photo. Deep into the dark field there is a lonely, broken little house at the end of a lane. The house contains no one, no one stops by to visit, and no one knows about
Amelia stood at a pair of elaborate wood doors that led to everything she ever wanted, paralyzed by an emotion she couldn’t identify. There were hundreds of people dancing, drinking, laughing. This was the most important moment of her life, and she was the sole witness. Not a single pair of eyes flashed in her
I’ve been a hardcore fangirl since I started middle school, so shipping characters and becoming completely engulfed in the lives of fictional characters is nothing new to me. Recently my best friend and I have become obsessed with the new show on The CW, called Riverdale. The show is based off the old Archie comics
