“This is tedious,” complained Tebogo to his father as they drove through the reserve, “Why do we have to be here?”. Tebogo already knew about his father’s job, but he was hoping for a more specific answer. His father, Dr. Zander Adams, was the top biology professor at the University of Cape Town and had gone into the field to collect data for a
Once Tebogo was done, Zander replied, “I know you’d rather be back home with your friends, but your mother and I didn’t name you ‘resentful’. I thought that this would be a good opportunity for you since you’ve never been to Kruger before. I would say that you should take this time to look around since you might never see anything like this ...
The neighborhood rarely gathered, except for weddings and funerals. I stood in the back, four feet tall in a white dress and new white socks. Some people stared at me, then, when they caught me looking back, turned away to whisper among themselves. They wore black, as is traditional at a funeral. But Mama did not like black. She said so after Papa was
In the middle of the room, two easels covered in flowers flanked the sides of a long table. Mama’s picture was hastily pasted in the smaller structure. A man’s picture decorated the bigger one. He was not my Papa. Papa died in Yugoslavia, when the communists captured him and his friends two years ago. Mama escaped with me to the United States. She pro...
I tried not to look at any of my patients as if they were crazy, but this guy actually scared me. It was like he was in my head. I've dealt with an array of people with many different disorders, but he was the first to get to me.
He gazed lifelessly into my eyes. He wouldn't look away when he talked to me. Usually, when someone looks in your eyes, its
comforting, bonding. Not him. He was terrifying.
"You don't like me." he said.
"That isn't true." I lied. "I just need to figure out what kind of help you need, and you're a bit hard to read."
"You're lying." he said with a tight smile.
A chill went down my spine. I've never dealt with someone like him before. It was like the devil himself was sitt...
She sipped it slowly. It tasted bittersweet, like all the memories she could recall. She knew she would be alright after this though. It was all part of the good Lords great plan. At lease that's what they told her in church.
Her heart was a block of cement hanging by a chain in her chest, swaying slowly, turning, threatening to drop at any moment. When it
did, she knew it would be hell. That was the part she was trying to outrun.
She didn't know what was in this drink and she didn't care. It might kill her, but she was okay with that. She didn't care much about anything anymore. These people could poison her, boil her alive, or make a slave of her if they wanted to. She wouldn't fight them. She was too tire...
The brother took his sister's hand and said to her,
"Since our mother died we have had no good days; our stepmother beats us every day, and if we go near her she kicks us away; we have nothing to eat but hard crusts of bread left over; the dog under the table fares better; he gets a good piece every now and then. If our mother only knew, how she would
pity us! Come, let us go together out into the wide world!"
So they went, and journeyed the whole day through fields and meadows and stony places, and if it rained the sister said,
"The skies and we are weeping together."
In the evening they came to a great wood, and they were so weary with hunger and their long journey, that they climbed up into a hig...
Delia blinks her eyes repeatedly, in an attempt to adjust her vision to the room. Suddenly, she becomes severely aware of a splitting headache, and a sore arm. She attempts to rub the pain off the fleshy part of her shoulder, which feels bruised and tender. Her long dark hair is matted and damp, sticking to her neck and cheeks. She grasps her hair band she
always keeps on her wrist, and pulls the strands of hair away from her face and up off her shoulders, twisting it into a loose bun. She looks around trying to figure out where she is. Her heart rate increases as she realizes she doesn't know, where she is or how she got here.
Before she found her self here, she was walking home from school, after a long day...
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