Stories from
May, 2018

I still speak to my dead dad, call his name when I’m alone, yet phone conversations with my grieving mother drip with dark, heavy silence.

Austin Eichelberger just keeps writing.

The 14-year-old swiped mascara on her friend’s eyelashes with a practiced hand.
“My eyes feel all sticky now.”
“Hush, you’re beautiful.”

Lydia Stevens enjoys writing and summer sunsets in Michigan.

There was no sudden shiver, no tingling sixth sense. The night you died, I suspected nothing. Didn’t feel a thing.

Still don’t.

Kelsey Sorge’s (@kelseysorge) resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Funny thing about memories while you’re dying: as they flash in your head almost concurrently, you acknowledge that it was always about you.

Miguel Paolo Reyes is a researcher from the Philippines.

I always crawled into my mom’s bed when I’d had a nightmare. Now I have nowhere to crawl, and the monsters aren’t under my bed anymore.

Molly Mullen is a high school student from Dearborn, MI, who enjoys writing to express herself. Find her at @mollymaeeee on Instagram.