Category: 2018 Submissions

It’s been four years since I laid eyes on you and thought it was the end of wanting to feel loved by someone, but things changed. I knew things were bound to change, but I never thought one change would bring so much heartache that I might hold on to every time your name is spoken. I always wondered if you were really the person you said you were, but I came to realize that no one really is. So why do we change ourselves to get approval of everyone except the people who matter to us the most? I can guarantee that you don’t even know his name, but because he knew of what we use to have, you had to make sure that he knew that you were never really into it. You were, truly. Your love was unconditional, but his implied opinion of us you held on to so intimately bewildered you. Little did you know, he was watching because you had everything he didn’t, but now he thanks you because it’s his turn to make the girl of your dreams, the happiest girl in the world.

It was a magical summer day on South Padre Island. The wind was blowing perfectly, the sun was beaming at 90 degrees, and the water felt amazing. The magical atmosphere hit me harder than ever because it was my first time here. My cousins and I laughed as we ran up and down the shore. As I was running up and down the shore I noticed one particular fish that was having as much fun as we were just watching us. As I noticed the fishes plastered smile, and ridiculous speed, the magic that I felt through the air became more intense and even more mesmerizing. As it got darker, I noticed a little light beaming from the water. As I approached, I was taken back by the sight of that same fish using my phone. I checked my pockets and realized that it really was my phone. After making that realization, the whole situation was no longer magical, it was creepy and mysterious. Why would any fish need a phone, and who was he talking to? Completely bewildered, I took a long slow walk back, away from shore while contemplating life. I wonder if he still has it…

My parents came to America as immigrants from Vietnam.
Two years later, I was blessed with my little brother.
I went to school.
I worked hard; all this effort so I could get into college and start a life of my own.
The goal is to have a job I love and a family I adore.
Throughout my life thus far, I’ve met teacher, friends, and family that have become such inspirations.
I dealt with loss, failure, and disappointment, but I pulled through for the sake of my future.
I’ve learned so many lessons like, “don’t procrastinate” and, “you’re a horrible liar”.
I’ve made terrible life choices every so often, but all those decisions showed me what path I could end up on and what path I should be on.
I’m happy with the road that I’ve taken.
I grew in my faith and I know that God will always keep me on the right path as long as I let him show me the way.
I can’t wait to see what else life has to offer.

I don’t deserve this; I don’t deserve this at all. I deserve to be cherished, appreciated, unconditionally loved. Never did a thought that this could happen to me cross my mind. The past used to be filled with adventure, suspense, and wild nights I’ll never forget. I’m so astonished on how quick a person can change after everything that’s happened. I try to do so much for others mentally and physically through little daily things in life. I don’t buy my relationships, nor would I ever waste time doing that. From observing others experiences of buying relationships, they’re always the one to say they’re being “used”. I was raised to earn them through a genuine open door to anyone that’s willing. Once someone turns their back on you or changes the way they treat you, you question every single thing on where you went wrong. Until you realize it wasn’t you, it was them letting other people get to their head and manipulate their mind.

As he got dressed for his match, he envisioned his job on the pitch. He would not lose his battle against his foe and let down his country. As the match neared, he and the other 14 took the field and began to warm up. At last, the game was to start. The pack all got together in their 8 person scrum and gave it all they had, for Queen and country. 75 minutes goes by in a flash and all he has thought since the opening scrum was that he had to succeed for honor and Queen and country. 5 minutes. That’s all they had left. At last he sees a weakness in the opposition, and as he catches the ball at speed, he breaks through the line, running, panting, stumbling to the line. As time is about to expire and his window to score became smaller, he gave one last push with all his effort. For Queen and country. Time almost stood still as he sailed toward the line. He touched the ball down. Was it over the line? He turned to the referee. And he waited.

Our Love is a firework show blazing through a cold winter night,
Like a colossal airplane about to take flight,
As big as the sun and as bright as its light…

No other love compared to Our Love,
It was one of a kind,
With chemistry on display;
We didn’t want it any other way,

Our minds were just as connected as our bodies,
Until our fourth summer,
I went away, you stayed home,
There were so many feelings you had not shown…

We had married, Jamie, but that didn’t matter,
It’s like you planned for my heart to shatter,
You had no idea I knew about her,
or the many others whom you could lure,

Now when you visit, there is no spark,
Hardly any words, just small painful glances,
Who knew this would happen, Jamie?
Our Love was forever…

It’s sad to say we were wrong.

Tick tock tick tock tic-
No
There’s no ticking. The clock is broken. The batteries died over 4 weeks ago, and our teacher has either forgotten to replace them, or she simply doesn’t care. I look up once more at the dead timekeeper and uselessly hope to see the minute hand wave back at me. No luck. The clock’s hands permanently linger at the 10:38 stance, though looking outside it is not dark enough to be 10:38 PM, nor is it so early to be 10:38 AM. I try to direct my attention to the teacher who has been droning on about some Spanish verbs for I don’t know how many minutes now and long for this class to reach its end. My friend looks at me and taps her wrist, a gesture to ask: “What time is it?” I remove my phone from my backpack, attempting to hide it from the teachers gaze, so it wouldn’t be taken away, as I presume my friend’s phone has. I indicate with my fingers: 1:34. She rolls her eyes. As if to say, “Only 1:34?”I shrug. Ten more minutes.

The first time I had laid eyes on this angel, Such eyes, Such lovely pairs of sight. Like of autumn’s touch as averted into his eyes. With a tinge of golden dusts and grasses’ fresh new green. The exhilaration and intense adrenaline rush everytime I see her is overwhelming. I had attempted suicide months ago and had images of an angel. Growing up in a household without religion, this was an astonishing event for me, and I never thought I would see an another one again. Then I met her. She took my breath away from the start. Everytime I see her, my heart skips a beat. I look at this enticing celestial human being, and I’m absolutely starstruck. To know that I’m able to have my own angel, all to myself. I’m truly blessed to have her in my life. She is always there for me and I could never ask anything more. She lets me be myself around her. She’s the only one who knows about me truly and honestly.
She is, and forever will be, the love of my life.

As the rain slowly but surely swam down my window, I began to wonder if being here was even an option. It’s 1:22 A.M March 4, 2014 and I lay awake listening to the screams from my parents. My thoughts were pondering, and my mind took control. I was tired. Tired of the unnecessary arguments and the hopes of something better. As I crawled undeniably slow to the bathroom all I wished for was a happier ending. Why did I go through this, why was it my dad that so forcibly clung onto me as he penetrated my so holy body. I was approaching my 2nd trimester. Looking into the mirror I realized I was the left over pieces of a careless humans mistakes. This baby wasn’t something great, my life wasn’t anything but a tragedy. I picked up the bottle and began to swallow. Pill after pill until I reached the few almost invisible crumb-like pieces at the bottom. It was time for me to go. I’m sorry mom, I’m sorry dad but I can’t be here anymore. I can’t live in the shadows.

It’s interesting to think about the detail in things. The way they came to be, or how they’ve been used throughout time. With what I see, this thing is used so much while remaining itself. Used without the feeling of regret or sorrow. It patiently sits, humble and still, only making the slightest whispers and taps with an occasional squeak. It has the power to say so much and have a great impact, while at the same time not saying a word. It often becomes lost or broken, as it is mistreated throughout every day, tossed around and borrowed. Due to the power of what it has to say, it has to have the ability to take back what it says. We will never know if the words taken back would have been encouraging or life-changing. All we know is that those words disappear into little strands that are tossed onto the floor, never to be seen again.