I can remember my brother’s first epileptic seizure like I can recall the passcode to my iPhone. It was in July of 2006, and I… Read More

It’s 1 a.m. on one of the coldest days in December and I find myself sitting outside on a lone metal bench. The harsh wind… Read More

Her singing stopped.  The microphone in her hand started shaking. She could feel the water trickling down her legs. My mother placed her hand on… Read More

It was a gloomy and rainy Friday afternoon. I stood next to my mother’s hospital bed, holding a pink blanket that was as light as… Read More

I walk into the classroom of plain white walls and white table desks. I grab the test and listen to my teacher say, “You have… Read More

The colors seemed to pop off the page and illuminate the playroom I was sitting in. Compared to the brown carpet I sat on and… Read More