This article was written by a U-32 alumni, Ella Bradley, who has been working on this article for a while now; it’s about her exchange year in Germany. On Friday, the sixth of May in Beesenstedt, Germany, I woke…

This article was written by a U-32 alumni, Ella Bradley, who has been working on this article for a while now; it’s about her exchange year in Germany. On Friday, the sixth of May in Beesenstedt, Germany, I woke…
I wonder what I could have done differently that day. What would have happened if I helped? Who would have survived if I did something differently? If this were a story, I believe everyone would think the interview was…
The curtains blow quietly, past them, rain splashes against the tin roof. The house is still and quiet, shadows slump hidden behind every object. “Olivia? You up?” Mom pokes her head into my room. I put on a fake, pained…
I stumble up the three cement steps. The flower pot that is always blooming has died off and the flowers are brown and have molded into a crusted position. Across the street Mom’s bedroom light is still off. The morning…
I start piling a metal chunks into the compost pail. Woven into the grass, dozens of pieces remain. A large oak tree stands out behind our many rows of apple trees. I drag the segments across the grass, digging up…
This is the first part of a multi-piece story. At the end, vote for what you would like to see happen next! “Mom, are you here?” I call, slamming the front door behind me and kicking off my sneakers.…