Brittany MacKeown
Bio
I also go by my middle name, Renee, but you can call me about anything
Stories (32/0)
Chapter 1. Content Warning.
The morning was cool and dewy, mingling with Hana’s sweat as she opened the back door. Her cat, Creamsicle, wound her way over to Hana, meowing for breakfast. “Yeah, yeah, hold on,” Hana said, unzipping her jacket. It was an old ‘80s windbreaker, colorblocked with teal and pink and white—a divorce present from her father. He had given it to her as he was leaving, said it was hers now and she’d better take damn good care of it. She hadn’t seen him since she turned eighteen.
By Brittany MacKeown23 days ago in Chapters
The Hole in the Wall. Content Warning.
My mother had been married a year when my father first punched a hole in the wall of their grimy Dayton apartment. They had been fighting, probably over something small, when my father, in his blowout anger, decided to scare my mother into apologizing and dropping the subject. In that moment, my mother knew she had married the wrong person.
By Brittany MacKeown2 months ago in Families
My Journey with Mental Illness...
I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and anxiety at eighteen years old, six years after its onset. At twenty, I was diagnosed with ADHD. At twenty-two, I was diagnosed with mixed bipolar disorder. Unfortunately, all these were and are hereditary illnesses. And doubly unfortunate is that I’ve cycled through a various mixed-nut bag of schizophrenia, OCD, and borderline personality disorder.
By Brittany MacKeown2 years ago in Psyche
Salt in the Fire
Winter’s onset had yielded little snowfall but intense biting cold. Warden couldn’t remember the last time he had worn his shoes and buckskin coat to bed or spent most of his waking hours dangerously close to the fire. Cold was hardly something he noticed anymore; early in his childhood, his blood had thickened like tree sap against the mountain’s harsh winters. But this year, this winter, the nature spirits were restless. The pine branches buckled under the weight of their icy breath, crashing to the hard earth in the deepest part of the night, their death echoing in the following stillness. He would awaken with a start, his heart burrowed in his gut, sure the floor had given way beneath him.
By Brittany MacKeown2 years ago in Fiction