Rebecca Harris

“The funeral was held on a rainy Tuesday at the church where the Brendan family were members. The high school was excused for the day so the teachers and students could attend if they wished, and many did. Avivah's parents mourned their only child from the front pew, tears falling as steadily as the droplets outside, smattering faces as well as painted window panes.

After the eulogy, a song about heaven began to play over head, and as the song played, the Brendans lit a candle by the photo of their daughter, then returned to their seats. More than a few people in attendance were found dabbing at their eyes as the song came to a close. The group of mourners made their way slowly to the cemetery and laid the girl to rest, black umbrellas dotting the vivid green of the grass, grey sky bright, despite the rainfall.”
― Rebecca Harris, Nothing Lasts Forever

“There are just some things you cannot bring yourself to say when you know it will break someone's heart. Sometimes it is easier to carry a burden yourself than to watch their eyes fall.”
― Sarah Reid, Just a Girl...

“After several visits where I refused to speak, this psychiatrist asked me if I would at least agree to stop doing whatever it was I was doing that was bothering my parents so much. I agreed, knowing fully that I could do no such thing, I was not in control, was powerless, but agreeing to behave myself was my ticket to freedom. I never saw him again. He told my parents I would be better now, but never admitted defeat. How would it look, after all, if he was bested by a prepubescent girl?

Looking back, I really feel like I refused to speak to him because I was afraid of what I might say if I opened my mouth or answered his questions without weeks of forethought put into my answers. I was afraid what I said would go straight back to my parents, and I am certain that is what would have happened. There is no way I would have been strong enough for that. And there is no way they would have handled it well.”
― Sarah Reid, Just a Girl...

“Silver

The liquid ebony stretches out
and mingles with the midnight sky
where high above,
as on a throne,
is perched that perfect sphere of silver.
She looks upon the lapping waves,
the calm, all serene;
She looks upon the rocky shore,
watching dark nothing
break in two and become
tiny globs of light.
The soft white foam creeps
upon the smooth beige land
to darken it but for a moment,
only to retreat back to its
blackened home
and hide among the vastness.
The silver moon smiles openly,
casting a healthy grin
upon the rippled water below,
sending gifts of silver
to float on seas of woe.”
― Rebecca Harris, Bony Fingered Limbs