17. The beginnings of nostalgia and the time the crushing weight starts to set in, the truth of the rest of one’s life.

The sun is shining through Sarah’s blinds, bleeding onto her bare skin. I can’t take my eyes off her. 

My parents keep my baby photos in countless envelopes. Inside big cardboard boxes and plastic storage containers, they are stored away in the walk-in closet.

When baba cooks, he always slices the fatty parts off of the meat

I own five copies of Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief. 

When I was twelve, I had my first real taste of failure.

An introspective tribute to Alanis Morissette’s musical masterpiece. 

I wasn’t aware of what “daddy issues” even meant until I began eighth grade.

You consist of my thickened blood and spit.

“I think I want to do theatre. Like, forever. I just think I would be heartbroken if I ever had to stop.” 

These charms are different from the ones I used to wear. For one, the chains don’t match. Neither do their sizes. Neither does the weight they carry.

By Daisy Huang

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