Teen Ink

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• Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
  I Am Not Morbid

  

  By gggeetika, Greenvale, NY

  It’s happening again. My eyes open and I sit up straight in my bed, my legs tangled in a sea of blankets of pillows. The iHome above my head emits a strange blue light that that gives the room an eerie glow. I feel it again. I bring my left hand up to my left cheek, right below my eye. The t...
• Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
  The Force.

  

  By gggeetika, Greenvale, NY

  My family and I have been invited to a baby’s first birthday party. Her (or his, I have never met this baby before) parents are my father’s clients. In fact my father, admittedly, has never met these people before. His only communication with the couple has been through telephone and email. Neve...
• Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
  Dolls

  

  By gggeetika, Greenvale, NY

  Like all little girls, I had an obsession, an infatuation with Barbie dolls. I had dozens of Barbies all over my room. There were the Blondes, with matching pink dresses and plastic high heel shoes. Next were the Brunettes, dressed in purple florals with oversized sunglasses. I had a small (there we...
• Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
  Brown Bagging is Back

  

  By gggeetika, Greenvale, NY

  Mrs. Zonemanne was my eighth grade science teacher. She taught us geology and biology with a particular concentration in paleontology (she loved dinosaurs). She was a tall woman, who wore tight jeans and sweaters from Yves Saint Laurent. Her bottle blond hair and perfectly manicured nails made her s...
• Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
  The Final Draft

  

  By gggeetika, Greenvale, NY

  My brother has a friend named Sean. Sean has an older brother named Sam in the eighth grade. The relationship between their family and ours is cordial. We are not the best of family friends, but we’re amiable enough to invite each other for dinner and pleasant conversations. They live ten minutes ...
• College
  Guide > College Articles
  The Go Home Button

  

  By gggeetika, Greenvale, NY

  For as long as I can remember, I have always celebrated Thanksgiving at my house. My mother always invited our family over for a huge dinner that took hours to prepare. After returning from the Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York City, she and my father promptly locked themselves in the kitchen, cho...