Messy room, tangled hair, tear-stained eyes. I sit hunched over my desk in my dimly-lit room feeling hopeless. My grandpa has died, I am moving miles away from my home soon and I have no idea what...

“The screw through Cinder’s ankle had rusted, the engraved cross marks worn to a mangled circle.” I read the first line of the slowly fraying book, Cinder by Marissa Meyer. It was the third time...

Starry Night, I have loved you ever since I first saw you. When I was younger, I was surrounded by a wealth of knowledge. My parents both appreciate traveling and the history behind cultures. While...

To listen to this story, click on the box to the left. Entry #100: Dear Diary, I flip through the pages of my black-and-white composition notebook, its lines inscribed with the scratchy gray...