Maya42

United States of America

Message from Writer

Sometimes we just have to inhale, pick up the pen, and pour everything out.

Published Work

My December Competition 2019

December Rain

    Her already rosy cheeks turn brighter against the whip of the wind. Her hair flies, hundreds of strands each with their own agenda. Exhale and her breath appears in front of her before quickly vanishing into the sky. She turns to her big sister.
    "I wanna build a snowman." The little girl had brought a carrot for the nose.
    "To do that there would have to be snow," Her sister puffs, rubbing her hands together. "C'mon. It's gonna rain soon." The darkening clouds cast a shadow over the park, making it colder. Cold, so cold, but no snow, never snow.
    "It only ever rains," the little girls whines, then stomps her fur coated boots, "If I were Elsa, I would cover the town in snow and build a snowman so big you could see it from the moon. My books say snow is magical," she continues as her sister grabs her freezing...

Death, because isn't there enough of it already? #thingsihate

    C-a-t-h-e-r-i-n-e. With a C, not a K, even though that's what it says on my name tag since some idiot decided not to read the form my dad turned in because "I needed this group therapy session." Apparently there a bunch of people out there who need to share and open up about their feelings and what they have been going through since the death of someone. A bunch of people who would rather be sitting in front of the TV, bing watching Netflix, with a tub of ice cream in their pajamas. If that's what works when you go through a breakup, why isn't it enough now? Since we are sharing, these are some things I hate above all else:

0. Avocados. (This is zero because I felt it wasn't that important, but I also needed to share my hatred of them.)

1. The phrase "everything will be okay," or "I'm sorry for your loss," when really you are...

From Beyond the Graves

    "Sorry ma'am. I don't have daisies today. How about some sunflowers?" I give the man a tight smile, and shake my head.
    "No thanks..." I glance at his name tag, "Henry. They have to be daisies." He nods and I wave, leaving the stand and the scent of pollen drifting through the air.
    I consider turning home, to the mundane buzz of my life and fake smiles followed by "I'm okay," or "it's getting better." To the fact that no one ever notices that I never mean it, or that my real smile shows all my teeth. I sigh, deciding to keep on my well-worn path and trudge along. My feet lead their own way, one step in front of the other until they reach the wrought iron gate. One push sends it swinging soundlessly, like walking into a world of silence. Rows of tombstones line the graveyard. Some molded over and cracked, others polished and new. Left,...

Against My Tongue #Experience

    "Stop. Don't touch it." My hand is swatted away. I whine, and in a blink all that is left is a a tiny puddle. More like droplets, on the ice cold petri dish. Father groans. His camera poised above the dish, awaiting something gone before it had even come. Father reaches for his snow boots again and shoves open the door. It sticks, it always sticks. He gets it open and a gust of cold wind slaps my face. I shiver, hugging myself, and trot out behind him. Each step a crunch in the bright white. Father is back through the door before I can exhale. He shuts it before I can get back in.
    I sigh and my breath floats in front of me, and disappears. A part of me, gone. I puff again and again, pushing out the white wisps of smoke from within me. I sit on the iced over steps. My pants absorbing the...

Human Connections Essay Competition 2019

Who Am I To Me?

    My friend said something really real to me a few days ago. We were in Java class. I bet you can picture it, gray walls, long desks, lap tops placed in front of each student. The constant sound of the clicks and clacks on the keys. A mundane buzz of "do you get how to do it?" and "can you show me?" I had asked for my lap top back when she made a weird face. Now confused myself, I asked her "what?"
    "You said bro."
    "Huh?
    "You said: Bro, can I have my computer back?"
    "No I didn't."
    "Yeah, you did though." I don't say bro. It isn't me, at least I don't think it is. She laughs.
    "What?"
    "You do this a lot. Whenever you are around Fiona you start acting like her and when you are with Nix, you suddenly start saying bro."...

Human Connections Essay Competition 2019

Who Am I To Me?

    My friend said something really real to me a few days ago. We were in Java class. I bet you can picture it, gray walls, long desks, lap tops placed in front of each student, them busy clacking their keys. A mundane buzz of "do you get how to do it?" and "can you show me?" I had asked for my lap top back when she made a weird face. Now confused myself, I asked her "what?"
    "You said bro."
    "Huh?
    "You said: Bro, can I have my computer back?"
    "No I didn't."
    "Yeah, you did tho." I don't say bro. It isn't me, at least I don't think it is. She laughs.
    "What?"
    "You do this a lot. Whenever you are around Fiona you start acting like her and when you are with Nix, you suddenly start saying bro." She sighs, "Sure, bro. You can...

From Beyond the Graves

    "Sorry ma'am. I don't have daisies today. How about some sunflowers?" I give the man a tight smile, and shake my head.
    "No thanks..." I glance at his name tag, "Henry. They have to be daisies." He nods and I wave, leaving the stand and the scent of pollen drifting through the air.
    I consider turning home, to the mundane buzz of my life and fake smiles followed by "I'm okay," or "it's getting better." To the fact that no one ever notices that I never mean it, or that my real smile shows all my teeth. I sigh, deciding to keep on my well-worn path and trudge along. My feet lead their own way, one step in front of the other until they reach the wrought iron gate. One push sends it swinging soundlessly, like walking into a world of silence. Rows of tombstones line the graveyard. Some molded over and cracked, others polished and new. Left,...

Stunning #thisismyway

    I was once that kid that sat in a field of clovers, hunting for the one with four leaves. The kid you see picking dandelions, or throwing coins into wells. I made wishes, naive enough to think they would come true. You did too, I’m sure. Closed your eyes and whispered what you wanted. When I was seven, I wished for a chocolate cake for my birthday and daddy got me vanilla. The cake accidentally fell into daddy’s favorite white curtains. They lit up in the colors of a sunset. Oranges, yellows, reds- it was beautiful. Breathtaking. Perfection. I wanted to engulf the world in the beauty of the fire and how alive it felt. I fell in love with the flames. After that I lost faith in wishing, in the way things magically appear just for you. I learned that the only way to ensure your desire come true was to get it done yourself, and the things I...

All my submissions #sixlittlestories

Palms open. Crescent moons. Red drips.

I giggle, her fingers tickling mine.

She was everything, now I'm nothing.

Stars are memories, constellations are lives.

Happiness #imagineit

She clutched the dandelion in her hands so tightly the stem frayed, the green bleeding onto her tiny, hopeful, fingers.
Make a wish, she thought, anything in the world: angel wings, super powers, cotton candy melting in your mouth.
As the kids around her sprouted wings and soared, she whispered her own desire, inhaled slowly and blew.
Parachutes of white filled the sky and she closed her eyes to open them to a mirror.
Her reflection breathtaking, a princess dressed in ruffles, blonde curls cascading, a crown atop her head.
To the Wish's dismay, she frowned, dissatisfied with the four poster luxury bed and jewels.
So her eyelids fluttered and closed, wishing again for her desire to be fulfilled.
She awoke to the softness of pillows and toys, a mountain for her.
But again she frowned at the stuffed bear, and closed her eyes.
The Wish desperately searched for something, anything, to fulfill her desire.
Candies, parades, unicorns, riches- her...

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

Gone

“Next question. Are you an only child?”
A blink and I’m back. The covers pulling away. Calloused, yet soft hands cupping my cheeks. The moon light illuminating her bruises and eyes, emerald like mine.
“I’m getting out,” she says quietly.
“I go too.” 
“No. I’ll be back for you,” she smiles sadly, “love ya.” Clap, high five, repeat, spin, and hug.
“Always.” I whisper. A kiss on my forehead. The creak of the window, a rush of cool air, then the quietness of the house. I trusted her. I still trust her ten years later.
I recite my line.“Yes.”

Universal Knowledge

True Love

There is nothing we understand more than the electricity as we hold another's hand, the silence in a true smile, conveying a message beyond words, or the feeling of a void being filled with a love's kiss.