The Parris Family Journal

Rika’s Fear of Not Being Enough

I want to be an full time artist. Not the kind of artist that fills sketchbooks with art and hides them in drawers, but the kind who lives through it.

The Art of Holding Back

Being the oldest means you don’t get to fall apart. At least, that’s what I’ve always told myself because if I break, then everything underneath me breaks too, and I can’t let that happen. So I hold it together. I make sure there’s food on the table, that the others get where they need to go, that they know they can lean on me. I carry the weight because someone has to and if I’m honest, I wouldn’t even know who I am without it. People think I’m strong, but...

Why Rika Hates the Word ‘Perfect’

I hate the word perfect. When I was younger, people used to say it like it was a compliment. “You’re so perfect, Rika. You’re quiet, neat and good.” They thought I didn’t notice the way their voices sounded more relieved than proud. Perfect didn’t mean I was special, it just meant I was easy. So I tried harder, I drew straighter lines, got cleaner grades and kept my room spotless. I thought maybe if I kept stacking up all these little “perfects,” one day someone would actually see me. But...

What Makes Someone Real?

Sometimes I wonder where my memories actually come from. I know I was there for the moments I write about, but when no one else seems to notice them, I start to wonder if I just imagined it. Being in the middle means people don’t always look at you directly. You’re not the first to do something, but you’re not the last and sometimes you’re not really much of anything at all. I watch Noriko carry the weight of responsibility, and everyone praises him for it. I watch Rika quietly...

Rocco’s Broken Promise

I promised her I would protect her. I promised I would never leave her side, not for a moment.

Journaling for the Forgotten

When the tulips bloomed again, I didn’t know what to do with myself. For years I’d been pretending the garden was just dirt, nothing more than a patch of land I couldn’t keep alive. But seeing those flowers come back felt like being pulled into a memory I’d worked too hard to bury. So I started writing and not because I wanted to, but because the weight of everything I’d been carrying finally felt too heavy to keep inside. At first it was just scribbles of half-thoughts and broken pieces...

The Loneliness of Being the Youngest

People always say being the youngest is easy. They say I get babied, spoiled, and protected and from the outside it looks like the best place to be. I never have to be the first to figure things out, the rules are softer by the time they reach me, and everyone assumes I don’t have to carry the same weight. But it doesn’t always feel like a blessing. Sometimes it feels like my whole life has already been decided before I even get the chance to live it. Teachers tell...

Minato's Tea Cup World

The kettle always starts singing before the sun has even thought about climbing over the horizon. By the time the soft light finally makes its way through the curtains, I’ve already got the pan heating up with two eggs cracked in, bacon laid flat and sizzling, and the air filling with the kind of smell that makes the house feel safe even when no one else is awake. Toast always comes last. I spread butter across it and then grape jelly because that’s the only way it feels complete. I...

Fall Is Coming to the Garden

And with it… something else. The mornings are colder now. Not cold enough to see your breath yet, but just enough to make the kids wrap their sleeves around their hands when they walk.Minato switched from iced tea to warm.Noriko’s started collecting leaves again.Rika’s been painting pumpkins on anything she can find napkins, envelopes, corners of her journal pages. Fumiko begged to go to the pumpkin patch.It wasn’t really anyone’s idea.But they all said yes. So they went. The hay was scratchy, the cider too sweet, and the sun never...

Meet the Onion Kids

They weren’t born. They were grown. Stevie planted them after Angela was gone. He didn’t know what he was doing just that the letter she left behind said “Take care of these the way you took care of me.”So he did. He didn’t expect them to sprout.He didn’t expect them to cry.And he definitely didn’t expect them to become… children. But they did. Each one different. Each one blooming into something whole and alive and real.Not quite human. Not quite vegetable.Just… magic. Here’s what we know about them: ➤ Noriko, the...

What Would Be Behind Your Garden Door?

They weren’t supposed to find it. But the garden remembered first. It began with tulips. Then a key buried in the soil.Then a lock no one remembered installing.Then the gate creaked open. Beyond the garden wall was a hidden chamber. Ivy-curtained. Softly glowing.Stone walls. Still air. Magic in the kind of way that feels familiar even if you’ve never seen it before. And seven doors. Each one different. Each with its own symbol.One with a face.One with a full moon.One with a green tea leaf.One with a sun.One with a...

Angela’s Autumn Memory

Some memories don’t belong to anyone. But they still linger. She didn’t bring her journal that day. She usually did always had a notebook tucked under one arm, her pockets stuffed with pens, plant tags, and half-crumpled to-do lists. But not this time. This time, she just walked. The sun was low, painting everything gold. The oak tree swayed gently in the wind, its leaves halfway turned some still clinging to green, others already crisp at the edges. Angela stepped barefoot into the garden, slow and deliberate.The soil was cool.The...