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Teen Ink Magazine, January 2003 : Nonfiction Articles

A Front Row Seat in Heaven
   My dad's childhood was one endless game of basketball and, even as an adult, hecould shoot hoops dawn to dusk and beg for more, but I was the type of littlegirl who, when asked to play a sport, would look at my freshly paintedfingernails and say, "You ...
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A Hero for a Night
   "Youbetter run! she yelled after me as I walked up the stairs.

"I'm not afraid of you, Mom." That set her off. She charged up thestairs after me. I got to my room, but a few seconds later, she burst through thedoor yelling ...
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A Mother in a Teenager's Body
Fabian was born June 15, 2002.
He weighed one poundfour ounces.
Like so many other preemies' moms,
I'm only 17 yearsold.
...
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Heartache
I watch you and forget for a moment that

we are friends.

Sometimesyou seem like a stranger to me. ...
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Roy G. Biv
   I was five I learned what the word "grounded" meant, and that to begrounded wasn't fun at all ...
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Silence
   In a relationship, how long doesit take before you have nothing left to say to the other person? How much timepasses before you have no more words that need to be spoken? Is silence a signthat your relationship is dying, or just beginning?

Last week ...
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The Band
   I could hear the loudness fromthe drums; the bass was heart-pounding. I walked into the garage and saw Chuckgoing off on the drums. We've been good friends since third grade ...
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The Naked Truth
   I love being naked. I love art. I need money. I'd had some trouble getting enoughhours at my campus job, and so an ad outside the college's financial aid officecaught my eye. "Nude models, $9 an hour. No experience necessary ...
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The Other World
   I wrote my first story at the age ofeight, pounding furiously at my dad's old computer. My proud product was a30-page story about a horse named Lightning who won the Kentucky Derby ...
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There For Me
   Try looking at someone withoutever getting to know them. The beautiful blonde with blue eyes couldn't be nice,she's just too pretty. The guy with brown hair and black-rimmed glasses carryingthe pre-calculus book is too smart to be interesting to you ...
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What if We Skip Stones?
   I sit on the bridge, my legsdangling, one hand under my chin. My best friend, Aleta, is beside me, bare feetin the water. We sit in contemplative silence, enjoying each other's company. Thesun will set soon, and we are both beginning to swat at mosquitoes ...
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More Nonfiction articles from the Teen Ink Archives