A Stellar Flare of Young Adult Writing and Visual Art

Alone and Where It All Began




Driving alone my eyes on the road. An endless trail of snow makes me feel all alone. I can’t help but remember that cold night in September, when I called you mine not feeling a moment in time. You told me your secret. I couldn’t help but keep it. Now all these memories are coming back to haunt me. Reminiscing about the past, I wonder how it went by so fast. I have my regrets, but deep down I know you’re to blame. This all has made me realize, forced me to really open my eyes to see what’s really out there. The things that I really care about. You treated me bad. I always ended up mad. I refuse to fall for your beautiful eyes. Knowing I can’t get by losing you one more time. You keep wearing this disguise. Trying to trick me but believe me when I say you no longer deceive me. No longer in a drought, no longer feeling caught. By you. I am now free. Free to be me; The real me.


Where it All Began

At age seventeen nothing is as it seems.

Time. What does time really mean? It is not something you can see, nor something you can touch. Time can be eternal; yet it only takes a matter of seconds, seconds for everything to vanish. So quickly, like it was never really there. I imagine it was a cold, dark, scary night that October 26, 2000. The hospital was probably full of sick people, really sick people who are waiting for the miracle of life to strike on them, and save them from their eternal doom.

Then, in room twenty five, a mom is eagerly waiting for her baby to be born. For that miracle that she’s been carrying around her womb for nine months. Waiting for this to be what changes her life for the better. That gives her reason. What she doesn’t know is that seventeen years later, that “miracle” she was hoping for is what keeps her up at night. It is what keeps her from the love of her life and is seriously damaged. Seventeen years later, here I am. Writing this, i don’t know if its an autobiography or just a story. That’s for you to decide. But here it began, the story of a girl names Gabriela Rodriguez, who was born October 26, 2000.

About the Author

Gabriela Rodriguez lives in Guatemala City where she attends the American School Of Guatemala. It’s hard for her to describe her feelings, she wants to say so many things and get people to understand her, but the only way she is capable of completely describing what she feels is through  writing.

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This entry was posted on May 12, 2019 by in Creative Nonfiction, Poetry and tagged , , , .
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