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Tara DeYoung

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2025

Stories (21)

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Library

6 Followers

1 Following

21 Stories

336 karma pts

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The Audit of The Snake

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #338

January 2026The eucalyptus oil hung in the air—sharp, clean, almost clinical. Years ago, that scent meant reset: a deep breath before the next rush, the next demand, the next day that required me to be pleasant on command. Today, it pressed down on me like a hand.I lay face down on the massage table with my forehead in the padded horseshoe, staring at the beige weave of the carpet. In the corner, a speaker played “nature sounds”—wind chimes and water meant to make everything feel harmless.Colette worked in silence for a minute, then her thum...

0 likes

Clean Break

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #337

I spent my first weeks in Big River searching for local street art to hang on my walls and watering the succulents on the window sills, my mind racing with the city's noise until the 10-hour shifts at Steigenga’s turned my excitement into a dull ache in my arches.I spent my days at the promotions firm, with the phone receiver to my ear, only to rush home and add my Steigengas’ name tag to my blazer. My bank account barely grew, but every paycheck felt like a key to a door they couldn't lock.Despite my hectic schedule, I always made time for ...

5 likes

The Price to Belong

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #336

In Big River, the name DeYoung didn’t just belong to a family; it belonged to the geography. It was etched into the cornerstone of the hospital’s waiting room, embossed on the stationery of the family’s business, and whispered with a mixture of reverence and resentment in the reformed churches in town. To marry Sam DeYoung was, in the eyes of the city, like being knighted. But as I stood in the center of "Stevensons," the town’s most exclusive bridal boutique, I didn’t feel like royalty. I felt like a specimen under a microscope.“You’re not ...

8 likes

Prayer Shawl

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #335

The kitchen no longer felt like a sanctuary; it felt like a pressurized cabin moments before the oxygen masks drop. Tate stood in the center of the room, his energy displacing the air, vibrating at a frequency that made the magnets on the refrigerator hum. His face was flushed, a high color rising in his cheeks that matched the startling, electric intensity in his crystal blue eyes. He didn’t just look at me; he bore into me, searching for a spark of the fire he was currently drowning in.“Mom, they’re doing everything they can to tear us apa...

12 likes

Circle of Wagons

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #334

The realization did not arrive like a polar vortex—shattering glass and howling through the eaves. It settled over me like a cold, steady snowfall, the kind that begins in the middle of the night and transforms the landscape into something unrecognizable by dawn.I sat at my computer in the corner of our bedroom. The house was a tomb of shadows, the only light being the harsh, clinical white glare of the monitor. It illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air, and the fine lines around my eyes reflected in the glass. For years, I had been a...

9 likes

Crimsom Tide

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #333

“You need to make things right with your parents first.”Mark’s voice was a broken record, skipping endlessly over the same scratch in the vinyl. He refused to meet Sam’s gaze.I stood in the doorway, my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached. It was the same script. We were trapped in a loop of our own making, pretending that this time logic and fairness would matter. They didn’t.I watched Sam’s shoulders slump. He had walked into this conversation with his chest open, armed with hope and a business plan, and walked out hollow. Again. We were al...

10 likes

Educate Yourself

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #332

These days, I am choosing myself more and more. It was a practice that became easier with every journal entry, every page read, and every uncomfortable realization I unearthed.I had tried to bring Sam along on this journey, sending him screenshots and quotes, hoping to spark a conversation. But difficult conversations remained just that—difficult. Still, I wanted him to have the same map I was using. There was still time, and perhaps a sliver of hope, for him to learn how to change his role in his family.Before I left for Salt Lake City to b...

9 likes

Flying Away

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #331

I watched the snowfall as we pulled into Susan and Jerry’s driveway. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard: 11:45 a.m. My stomach tightened. Sunday dinners were usually painful, and that was without the added burden of other commitments to navigate. Today, though, I needed to leave by 1:00 p.m. to catch a flight to New York City. I’d recently been promoted again, from assistant accessory buyer—the job I landed just a year after our wedding—to dress buyer, my dream job. I knew not to expect any congratulations at Sam’s house. Success was ba...

5 likes

Patient Zero

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #330

I opened the email about the annual Family Christmas party for Susan’s side of the family. A little bile rose in my throat. I thought back on the party over the years—how we first attended, unknowingly, contributing to this sickness that ran in the family, and how our own crazy hockey schedule helped excuse our attendance. As our children grew into adults and one of the grandsons started a hard cider business, alcohol was finally allowed. I could use my token crutch. Yet now, after all these years, I finally have a diagnosis for this dysfunc...

10 likes

One Shoe Curve

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #329

Managing Sam’s mother and her unyielding expectations during our first year of marriage was a burden I hadn’t fully anticipated. For every family member’s birthday, every holiday, and every Sunday, Susan expected us to be at her house for dinner without fail. On holidays, she also assumed we would attend their church service. What should have been a warm family meal and meaningful church attendance turned into an uncomfortable obligation—a ritual meant to maintain appearances rather than strengthen family bonds. Conversation was minimal, the...

21 likes

Red Flags

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #328

Tara“You’re not seriously going to wear an off-the-shoulder dress, are you?” I heard Susan’s voice behind me, booming through the bridal boutique.The chaos of wedding planning often felt like a whirlwind, but Sam and I had quiet moments of connection, which made the gauntlet of bridal boutiques tolerable, even with Susan.I’d asked her to accompany my mother and me, hoping to appease her. But it wasn’t working.I froze, meeting her critical look in the mirror. Her voice was authoritative.I ran my hand over the raw silk skirt. It was the first ...

11 likes

Becoming Wicked

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #327

The hum of LaGuardia airport always grated on my nerves, a crude assault on my refined sensibilities. This latest pilgrimage, ostensibly for the Big River Symphony – a mere pretense, of course – was solely for my benefit. I had insisted, and my daughter-in-laws would obey. Tara, Sam’s wife, with her transparently selfish motivations, feigned enthusiasm. Broadway, "retail therapy"... such trivial pursuits. I saw through her meager charade. She thought herself so worldly compared to me. Yet they all craved my approval, my benevolence, Tara, th...

7 likes

Emotionally Manipulated

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #326

As I stepped into Dr. Regan’s office, the sharp scent of antiseptic stung my nose. The fluorescent lights were too bright, and the buzz from the medical equipment was a sound I didn’t want to hear.I didn’t want to be here.I’d spent years ignoring the signs—the headaches, the fast-beating heart, the tiredness that never went away, no matter how much rest I got.I remembered the evening I almost passed out in the kitchen, holding on to the kitchen counter to ensure I didn’t fall. Sam had glanced up from his phone as if I were a drama queen.“It’...

6 likes

Letting Them

Tara DeYoung

Submitted to Contest #325

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, the familiar tension a knot between his shoulder blades, as he set his phone on the end table with a clatter that was louder than he intended. The glow from the screen, now face down, seemed to emanate a residual heat of frustration.“It’s just so unnecessary,” he said, the words heavy with exasperation. “My mom’s endless guilt trips. Dad’s sermonizing crap about forgiveness, as if it’s a switch we can flip. Their behavior hasn’t changed, not an iota, nor have they offered a single genuine apology. It’s just m...

12 likes

Finding Words

Tara DeYoung

Ashley, my therapist, sat across from me. Her voice was quiet yet firm. She seemed to hear my thoughts before I spoke them, lowering her head and leaning toward me.“Tara, this has been a long time coming,” she said with a kind authority. “But remember, you alone can’t fix your marriage. There are two of you in your marriage, and without Sam’s willingness to try, this toxic cycle and generational curse will only continue.”Deep down, I knew she was right, but her words left me fearful, prompting me to wonder how I had reached this point. A dee...

0 likes