"I look for evidence that it might have been wiped away so I don’t confuse places I want to call home with places I need to survive." I feel this in my bones. Thank you.
This part, I actually said, Wow. Holy shit, out loud. My dog was like, Okay, now we're not walking for another 15 min.......that last line killed me.
"They have let me come over since Sharon and I made the same grades at school, though the teachers have watched me like a shoplifter sitting next to Sharon in class. They thought I was cheating off Sharon’s work and that’s why I made those grades, even though one of our classmates ended up cheating off me. But on the outside, I must have looked like someone you don’t protect."
A few days later and I’m still thinking about this. ❤️ My aunt and mom were both violent alcoholics and my sister, cousins and I got caught in the cross hairs often. The relatability level of this for me was at an all time high. Thanks for sharing, Pamela. Looking forward to reading more of your work ❤️❤️❤️
Pamela, I've had to go through trauma therapy for when my schizophrenic sister threatened me with a knife. And I, too, have this thing about knives to this day. Like they could animate themselves and lose control. I could never write about it as eloquently as this. Trauma is just trauma, but this is a gift.
Wow, this is a powerful connection. Love this: "they could animate themselves..." Yes. Thank you for sharing, Catherine. I agree trauma is just trauma. Blessings and continued healing to you.
A haunting story, so well written. Enjoyed the way Pamela wove the past with the present, using the vestibule metaphor so eloquently. Using only one word to let the reader know the family is Black, and doing so well into the story, was powerful and reminds me to continue to check my biases.
I was unsure at the beginning where the story was going to go with the knife, a child, a possibly unsafe home. This piece shows the various areas where trauma shows up in our lives - sometimes brazen and sometimes so subtlety we don’t recognize it as such except just to know something unknown has impacted us.
I held my breath as I read this entire (riveting, intricately constructed) piece. There were so many ideas I’ll carry with me, but this section particularly struck me:
“I couldn't be in the same room with myself when I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, so I left. I leave similar to how I will leave in the future when I see knives or basements—my body is present but I’m not Here. Here is the willingness to be a home for yourself and others.”
I have never thought of Here this way before—wow. I am going to be thinking about this for a long time. Thank you for sharing this with us, Pamela.
It's a moving reminder of the resilience required to break free from the cycles of the past and the courage it takes to hope for a different kind of ending. Thank you for sharing such a deeply personal piece reminding us of the power of storytelling to connect, heal, and transform.
Explore captivating Contemporary, Romance, Thriller & Suspense, Science Fiction, Horror, and more stories on my Substack for FREE at https://jonahtown.substack.com
Reading this made me feel like I had a concrete block on my chest. The writer so clearly conveyed the scene in its entirety that I felt I was present.
Oh I'm glad to hear this. I was hoping to generate that feeling of being present even for moments you may not want to be. Thanks, Susan.
"I look for evidence that it might have been wiped away so I don’t confuse places I want to call home with places I need to survive." I feel this in my bones. Thank you.
This part, I actually said, Wow. Holy shit, out loud. My dog was like, Okay, now we're not walking for another 15 min.......that last line killed me.
"They have let me come over since Sharon and I made the same grades at school, though the teachers have watched me like a shoplifter sitting next to Sharon in class. They thought I was cheating off Sharon’s work and that’s why I made those grades, even though one of our classmates ended up cheating off me. But on the outside, I must have looked like someone you don’t protect."
Thank you so much for taking the time to read it!
The kind of writing that brings me back to my own need to do the work that writing requires. Thank you.
Thank you for your comment! I'm grateful this may support you as well.
Just wow. The braiding here is exquisite. I am in awe and so grateful for Jackson's willingness to share.
Thank you, Kim! It is a very challenging memory. I'm glad to share it here.
A few days later and I’m still thinking about this. ❤️ My aunt and mom were both violent alcoholics and my sister, cousins and I got caught in the cross hairs often. The relatability level of this for me was at an all time high. Thanks for sharing, Pamela. Looking forward to reading more of your work ❤️❤️❤️
Thank you so much for sharing, Ashley. I truly appreciate it. Happy this is resonating. <3
Pamela, I've had to go through trauma therapy for when my schizophrenic sister threatened me with a knife. And I, too, have this thing about knives to this day. Like they could animate themselves and lose control. I could never write about it as eloquently as this. Trauma is just trauma, but this is a gift.
Wow, this is a powerful connection. Love this: "they could animate themselves..." Yes. Thank you for sharing, Catherine. I agree trauma is just trauma. Blessings and continued healing to you.
This was beautifully written. Thank you so much for sharing.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read it.
A haunting story, so well written. Enjoyed the way Pamela wove the past with the present, using the vestibule metaphor so eloquently. Using only one word to let the reader know the family is Black, and doing so well into the story, was powerful and reminds me to continue to check my biases.
I was unsure at the beginning where the story was going to go with the knife, a child, a possibly unsafe home. This piece shows the various areas where trauma shows up in our lives - sometimes brazen and sometimes so subtlety we don’t recognize it as such except just to know something unknown has impacted us.
A poignant piece! Thank you for sharing.
Thank you so much for your feedback, Joy.
So beautifully written. Thank you.
Thank you so much.
I held my breath as I read this entire (riveting, intricately constructed) piece. There were so many ideas I’ll carry with me, but this section particularly struck me:
“I couldn't be in the same room with myself when I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, so I left. I leave similar to how I will leave in the future when I see knives or basements—my body is present but I’m not Here. Here is the willingness to be a home for yourself and others.”
I have never thought of Here this way before—wow. I am going to be thinking about this for a long time. Thank you for sharing this with us, Pamela.
Thank you, Amy. Being Here is such a vulnerable place I think--so glad this resonated with you.
This is so incredibly powerful. The physical memory of places, even those that no longer exist, can stay with us forever.
I appreciate your comment!
Wow. Powerful.
Thank you for reading this piece!
It's a moving reminder of the resilience required to break free from the cycles of the past and the courage it takes to hope for a different kind of ending. Thank you for sharing such a deeply personal piece reminding us of the power of storytelling to connect, heal, and transform.
Explore captivating Contemporary, Romance, Thriller & Suspense, Science Fiction, Horror, and more stories on my Substack for FREE at https://jonahtown.substack.com
Thank you for taking the time to connect with this piece, Jonah!
🙏🏾 Thank you, Allison.