Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Reflections by Linda Dyanne Bolden (read e book .txt) 📖
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- Author: Linda Dyanne Bolden
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she prepare her a nice salad and grilled a chicken breast to cut up in her salad, toasted slice garlic bread, and had a glass of grape pop with her meal. After she completed her meal she went into her bedroom to get her journal and headed back into her living room to start writing about her childhood memories.
Her childhood memories
The little girl’s short stories
Her earliest memories were basic on reflections of traumatic and tragic incidents during the course of her life. She remember when she was in the 4th grade, it was then that she realized that she was able to express herself better in writing, which at that time she said she wanted to become a writer , the desirer hasn’t changed. Writing was a form of escape for her. She had tried to block so many things from her mind but the more she wrote or read the more those demons came crashing down on her.
When she moved to Chicago she was only two years old, the age of her son Terry, so the south, she doesn’t have any memory of being there. She was told that her father was in jail at the time. If her memories serve her correctly her oldest sister explained to her that it was her aunts who told their mom in so many words that she could either come with them to Chicago or stay in Lake Village and continue letting their father beat the crap out of her. She was just a toddler, so she doesn’t have any memories of them fighting but her oldest sister and brother lived with that dreadfulness. Also she was told that her father cheated a lot.
Her mother was only 15 years old she was a child herself, when she got pregnant with her oldest brother. She was too young of bride and didn’t know very much about being a wife or a mother. Her grandfather was the preacher in the small town of Lake Village and her grandmother was a history teacher. Her Granny’s father was the son born to his mother’s master. That’s where the white line traveled in their family. He was born the year the slaves were freed in 1863. Her granny’s mother, his wife, was half Chippewa Indian/ half black.
She didn’t know ancestor’s on her father side because he was adopted. His adopted patents were well off and they adored her mom and her children and they would always threaten to cut her father off if he hit her mom. This saved her for a while, but after their death she didn’t have a chance to get away from his abuse. Any way’s as she had mentioned beforehand, in a small town like Lake Village the preacher’s daughter and the teacher’s daughter getting pregnant and unwedded was definite a no no, so her mother falsified her age in order to wed her father.
When she left Arkansas she had six children and was pregnant with the seventh child. Her mother was in her twenties and had nowhere to live in the big city. Her mother was the only one of her siblings that had a big family and of course, all of her sisters and brothers were divided up amongst relatives until her mom found an apartment big enough for them. She has no memory of the split ups when they first arrived, but she remember two times later when they were split up, she felt it was not pleasant to say the least. She recall the time when her little brother who was two years younger than she, and her baby sister, was playing with matches and set the apartment on fire. She was about six years old, and her baby sister had to be about 13 months. All of the other kids were in school except for the youngest two and her oldest sister, who was sick and stayed home for the day. Her mother was out, leaving her oldest to watch them. By the time she made it home from school the whole apartment was in complete ruin. Her mom had a lot of papers in her closet where the fire had apparently started. The firemen had tossed the sofa and loveseat out of the window in order to contain the fire. Nothing was saved and this is the reason they do not have any baby pictures today. Her oldest sister managed to get all of them out safely. She thanks God for that every time she remembers that horrifying day. She will never forget how terrified she was when she saw the fire trucks in front of the building and the destruction after the fire.
To this day she’s terrified of firers. She can take a funeral a lot better than a fire. Years later they had another fire in the building next to their apartment building, which had her scared to death. It was only smoke that they suffered. Her crazy brothers had the nerve to go back inside to retrieve some of their clothes. She always thought that was insane and didn’t care if they lost some of their things. When she thinks about things like that from time to time that terror still clings to her. Who in their right mind would value material things above their life?
The second time that they were split up was when her mother had to go into the hospital for a surgical procedure, she can’t recall, but she knew her sister told her later what it was. She never liked the separations because she could detect the tension of her relative’s houses at least that was her perception.
Her brothers and sister would fight like cats and dogs when they were kids but when it came down to it, they loved each other and always, always had each other backs. Her mother did the best she should with her kids and she always believed she was the strongest woman she has ever known.
As a young country lady coming into a big city like Chicago with six kids and one on the way, she had to learn fast and she truly did just that. She had four boys and as they approach their teen years and young adult years on the south side, of Chicago, where their neighborhood was infected by drugs and gangs were on the rise, during the early to mid 1960’s, in the year of 1963 and 1964, two Southside street gangs started to take form that eventually develop into two of the most powerful street organizations in Chicago. They were the Blackstone Rangers and the Black Disciples. During the control of these two organizations, the Blackstone Rangers were believed to be the most organized because they held national recognition, support from Blackstone Rangers prominent business men, entertainers, and politicians. Her mother had to step up and beat the living crap out of them from time to time because they were some hard headed boys. Yes she did use the extension cord on them butt naked and they all cried including her, but it paid off in the long run, they are all still here, managing to escape the gangs and some have suffered addictions; yet they are working on their recovery every day that God allows them to see it.
Her and her mother wasn’t the closes, even though she loved her and they are closer these days. She didn’t know her father well enough to form any relationship with him because she did not see him until she was 13 years old. Before they moved to Chicago she was too young to remember him. After he moved to Chicago they visited him sometimes or he would visited them but the only ties were the blood that flow through their veins. God says one should honor their fathers and mothers, all she can say about that statement is that during those time in her life she became to angry to love her father.
The little girl’s bloody nose
The little girl’s short stories
This day was one of her earliest memory as a little girl which was based on traumatic incident. This day entered her mind, the night before she was incredibly excited about going into kindergarten. She was five years old at the time. Her mother had bathed her and she put on her cotton pajamas that night. During the course of the night her nose had became very dry and she rubbed her nose over and over again tying to get an air passage. Throughout her sleep she must have pick into her nostrils because it started to bleed. At first it started as little droplets of blood, but it became heavier as she rubbed it with the sleeve of her pajama top. When she awakens out of her sleep she saw the blood all over her pajamas, immediately she jumped out of bed and ran into her mother’s bedroom. Her mother didn't look alarm when she told her mom that her nose was bleeding. She just took her daughter into the bathroom and she told her to lead over the sink. She wet a towel with cold water, washing the blood away. She also told her to press down on her nose for a while so the bleeding would stop. She quickly removed her bloody pajamas and brought in clean ones for her to put on. By the time they got back into her bedroom the bleeding had started over again.
This time it was not just droplets of blood it was like buckets of blood. She rushed her back into the bathroom while she lifted her up, holding on to her tightly, and she let the water fill completely up with cold water. She pressed the cold towels against her small face, going through one towel after another. Every towel she used was soaked in her blood and the cold water in the sink was filled with blood as well. She could see the panic in her mother’s eyes now since she was becoming very frightened. She couldn’t control a simple nose bleed, was beyond her belief. Her mother rushes her into the room and sits her child on the bed so she could start dressing herself. Before she could get her clothes on the little girl had vomit blood all over herself and in the bed. She had tears in her now and she remembered her mom grabbing her up from the bed with a blanket covering her and rushing out of the house with her child in her arms. She ran down the stairs and into the street where there were two policemen standing along side their patty wagon. She pleaded with them to take her to the hospital, her child was bleeding and she couldn't stop it.
She was admitted into the hospital right away, blood and a small child would most definitely get some immediately attention. Any way’s after the doctor’s examine her they ensured her mom that she would be fine and that it was not anything life threaten going on with her child. He told her to give the child plenty of fluids throughout the day and to make sure that her bedroom gets some moisture in it. The doctor said that it was the dry heat in such a small area tends to dry up the nostrils, which can causes bleeding if the child picks at it. He suggested that she either put in a humidifier for the bedroom or put a pan with water on top of the radiators to obtain moisture in the room. She told the doctor her daughter would be entering into kindergarten that day and his reply to her was “she should be fine.” That was the best news for her to hear, she could go
Her childhood memories
The little girl’s short stories
Her earliest memories were basic on reflections of traumatic and tragic incidents during the course of her life. She remember when she was in the 4th grade, it was then that she realized that she was able to express herself better in writing, which at that time she said she wanted to become a writer , the desirer hasn’t changed. Writing was a form of escape for her. She had tried to block so many things from her mind but the more she wrote or read the more those demons came crashing down on her.
When she moved to Chicago she was only two years old, the age of her son Terry, so the south, she doesn’t have any memory of being there. She was told that her father was in jail at the time. If her memories serve her correctly her oldest sister explained to her that it was her aunts who told their mom in so many words that she could either come with them to Chicago or stay in Lake Village and continue letting their father beat the crap out of her. She was just a toddler, so she doesn’t have any memories of them fighting but her oldest sister and brother lived with that dreadfulness. Also she was told that her father cheated a lot.
Her mother was only 15 years old she was a child herself, when she got pregnant with her oldest brother. She was too young of bride and didn’t know very much about being a wife or a mother. Her grandfather was the preacher in the small town of Lake Village and her grandmother was a history teacher. Her Granny’s father was the son born to his mother’s master. That’s where the white line traveled in their family. He was born the year the slaves were freed in 1863. Her granny’s mother, his wife, was half Chippewa Indian/ half black.
She didn’t know ancestor’s on her father side because he was adopted. His adopted patents were well off and they adored her mom and her children and they would always threaten to cut her father off if he hit her mom. This saved her for a while, but after their death she didn’t have a chance to get away from his abuse. Any way’s as she had mentioned beforehand, in a small town like Lake Village the preacher’s daughter and the teacher’s daughter getting pregnant and unwedded was definite a no no, so her mother falsified her age in order to wed her father.
When she left Arkansas she had six children and was pregnant with the seventh child. Her mother was in her twenties and had nowhere to live in the big city. Her mother was the only one of her siblings that had a big family and of course, all of her sisters and brothers were divided up amongst relatives until her mom found an apartment big enough for them. She has no memory of the split ups when they first arrived, but she remember two times later when they were split up, she felt it was not pleasant to say the least. She recall the time when her little brother who was two years younger than she, and her baby sister, was playing with matches and set the apartment on fire. She was about six years old, and her baby sister had to be about 13 months. All of the other kids were in school except for the youngest two and her oldest sister, who was sick and stayed home for the day. Her mother was out, leaving her oldest to watch them. By the time she made it home from school the whole apartment was in complete ruin. Her mom had a lot of papers in her closet where the fire had apparently started. The firemen had tossed the sofa and loveseat out of the window in order to contain the fire. Nothing was saved and this is the reason they do not have any baby pictures today. Her oldest sister managed to get all of them out safely. She thanks God for that every time she remembers that horrifying day. She will never forget how terrified she was when she saw the fire trucks in front of the building and the destruction after the fire.
To this day she’s terrified of firers. She can take a funeral a lot better than a fire. Years later they had another fire in the building next to their apartment building, which had her scared to death. It was only smoke that they suffered. Her crazy brothers had the nerve to go back inside to retrieve some of their clothes. She always thought that was insane and didn’t care if they lost some of their things. When she thinks about things like that from time to time that terror still clings to her. Who in their right mind would value material things above their life?
The second time that they were split up was when her mother had to go into the hospital for a surgical procedure, she can’t recall, but she knew her sister told her later what it was. She never liked the separations because she could detect the tension of her relative’s houses at least that was her perception.
Her brothers and sister would fight like cats and dogs when they were kids but when it came down to it, they loved each other and always, always had each other backs. Her mother did the best she should with her kids and she always believed she was the strongest woman she has ever known.
As a young country lady coming into a big city like Chicago with six kids and one on the way, she had to learn fast and she truly did just that. She had four boys and as they approach their teen years and young adult years on the south side, of Chicago, where their neighborhood was infected by drugs and gangs were on the rise, during the early to mid 1960’s, in the year of 1963 and 1964, two Southside street gangs started to take form that eventually develop into two of the most powerful street organizations in Chicago. They were the Blackstone Rangers and the Black Disciples. During the control of these two organizations, the Blackstone Rangers were believed to be the most organized because they held national recognition, support from Blackstone Rangers prominent business men, entertainers, and politicians. Her mother had to step up and beat the living crap out of them from time to time because they were some hard headed boys. Yes she did use the extension cord on them butt naked and they all cried including her, but it paid off in the long run, they are all still here, managing to escape the gangs and some have suffered addictions; yet they are working on their recovery every day that God allows them to see it.
Her and her mother wasn’t the closes, even though she loved her and they are closer these days. She didn’t know her father well enough to form any relationship with him because she did not see him until she was 13 years old. Before they moved to Chicago she was too young to remember him. After he moved to Chicago they visited him sometimes or he would visited them but the only ties were the blood that flow through their veins. God says one should honor their fathers and mothers, all she can say about that statement is that during those time in her life she became to angry to love her father.
The little girl’s bloody nose
The little girl’s short stories
This day was one of her earliest memory as a little girl which was based on traumatic incident. This day entered her mind, the night before she was incredibly excited about going into kindergarten. She was five years old at the time. Her mother had bathed her and she put on her cotton pajamas that night. During the course of the night her nose had became very dry and she rubbed her nose over and over again tying to get an air passage. Throughout her sleep she must have pick into her nostrils because it started to bleed. At first it started as little droplets of blood, but it became heavier as she rubbed it with the sleeve of her pajama top. When she awakens out of her sleep she saw the blood all over her pajamas, immediately she jumped out of bed and ran into her mother’s bedroom. Her mother didn't look alarm when she told her mom that her nose was bleeding. She just took her daughter into the bathroom and she told her to lead over the sink. She wet a towel with cold water, washing the blood away. She also told her to press down on her nose for a while so the bleeding would stop. She quickly removed her bloody pajamas and brought in clean ones for her to put on. By the time they got back into her bedroom the bleeding had started over again.
This time it was not just droplets of blood it was like buckets of blood. She rushed her back into the bathroom while she lifted her up, holding on to her tightly, and she let the water fill completely up with cold water. She pressed the cold towels against her small face, going through one towel after another. Every towel she used was soaked in her blood and the cold water in the sink was filled with blood as well. She could see the panic in her mother’s eyes now since she was becoming very frightened. She couldn’t control a simple nose bleed, was beyond her belief. Her mother rushes her into the room and sits her child on the bed so she could start dressing herself. Before she could get her clothes on the little girl had vomit blood all over herself and in the bed. She had tears in her now and she remembered her mom grabbing her up from the bed with a blanket covering her and rushing out of the house with her child in her arms. She ran down the stairs and into the street where there were two policemen standing along side their patty wagon. She pleaded with them to take her to the hospital, her child was bleeding and she couldn't stop it.
She was admitted into the hospital right away, blood and a small child would most definitely get some immediately attention. Any way’s after the doctor’s examine her they ensured her mom that she would be fine and that it was not anything life threaten going on with her child. He told her to give the child plenty of fluids throughout the day and to make sure that her bedroom gets some moisture in it. The doctor said that it was the dry heat in such a small area tends to dry up the nostrils, which can causes bleeding if the child picks at it. He suggested that she either put in a humidifier for the bedroom or put a pan with water on top of the radiators to obtain moisture in the room. She told the doctor her daughter would be entering into kindergarten that day and his reply to her was “she should be fine.” That was the best news for her to hear, she could go
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