A Slamming Door and a Lesson Learned The night before: The fighting was never ending. That morning he didn’t show up to my cross country meet because he was out drinking the night before. That evening I asked him to go out with me, but of course he would rather hang with his friends and drink, AGAIN. Why was I letting a boy make me feel shitty all the damn time? Kielyn was independent. Self-sufficient. Confident. This was not her, and she wasn’t going to let it define her any longer. The witching hour: Sunday. A day that is suppose to be enjoyed and cherished, because we all know tomorrow is the forever dreaded Monday. Yet, this Sunday was not enjoyable, but possibly even more dreaded than the Monday that was to come. But I forced myself to get in my car anyway. My car. My thinking place. My music sanctuary. The place where I go, to literally go. Sunday and my car. The moment: …show more content…
I was going to arrive, jump out of my car, march straight to him, give him my entire speech that I had spent time writing in a note’s page on my phone the night before. Then drop all the clothes I have ever borrowed from him at his feet, and tear back down that gravel road to home. But it didn’t work like that. Instead it was a mess of silence. My thoughts were everywhere all at once, and that’s when it hit me; Kielyn, there really is nothing to be said, it’s been over for awhile now. So, I simply uttered one sentence while looking in his eyes, “I don’t think this is going to work out.” He looked at me, probably said something, I don’t really know because I heard nothing. I just saw the indifferent expression on his face. That was when I knew it was over. I ducked into my car, turned the music as loud as it could go, and drove down that dusty gravel road. In my car. On a
In all honesty I wanted to go clear my mind, but I also wanted to stay home so I could cry and curl up in a corner. Hassan told me to go fix a bag and meet him down stairs I did as I was told even though I didn't have to. Once I got downstairs I saw Hassan talking to my parents. He was trying to convince them to let me go, and they agreed to let me go as long as I called. After they agreed to let me go listen told me that we were going to his house to see if his parents were cool with it. The one thing that he left out was that he wanted me to lie to his parents. I didn't want to, but I owed him after this whole trip thing. I had a long conversation with his parents and they decided to let him go. I'm not going to lie I wasn't thrilled but how bad could it be. In my mind everything that could go wrong was already being visioned which worried me more. Anyway before his parents could change their mind he grabbed my shirt and drug me across his house outside to the car. Later that evening we had been on the road and I had a flashback. I was in the third grade and I finally got this pretty girl named Katherine. I “loved" her and she felt the same in return, but like they say “All good things come to an end”. I was devastated my heart had a hole, but you get over it eventually I
I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I kept my hopes, dreams, and childhood memories. His words could not devour me there, and his violence could not poison my soul because I was in my own world, away from this reality. When it was all over, and the only thing left were bruises, tears, and bleeding flesh, I felt a relief run through my body. It was so predictable. For there was no more need to recede, only to recover. There was no more reason to be afraid; it was over. He would feel sorry for me, promise that it would never happen again, hold me, and say how much he loved me. This was the end of the pain, not the beginning, and I believed that everything would be all right.
I am an undocumented student at UC Davis. When I am asked a simple question such as, "describe your personal experiences", I ask myself: Where do I begin?
If I had the chance to go back in time to give advice to myself I would
I walk into the house, Dad is on the phone. I am just getting home from an amazing time at my friend Dimitri’s house. I look at my dad’s face and notice something is wrong, he looks up at me and makes throat cut motion; “Torae is dead”. Daniel, my best friend in the world, fell in love with an older woman. I accepted that just like everyone else, we couldn’t change his mind and there was no proof of statchitory rape. She was pregnant at the time of her death, and I’m afraid I’m going to get a call telling me Daniel has taken his life as well. That call doesn’t transpire. Two weeks have gone by; school is starting a couple of days. There is commotion in the living room, and ten minutes later, we rush to the emergency vet and beg for them to save our dog’s life, they only care about money and won’t help. I can see the desperation in my Dads eyes and hear the pleading in my mom’s voice on the phone. I already know what’s going to happen, I’ve accepted it. A lot of crying, but it’s my call whether we try to let Ruby make it through the night, and I say no. My mom had to say bye at work. And as we drive home, Ruby is whining in pain and her eyes have glossed over. We arrive home and I wait, and wait, for the ring of the gunshot. I start digging, anger, sadness, grief; it’s all going into that shovel. There is a plan of growing a peach tree, in the location of her burial. She was our oldest animal from Oregon, and now she is
I decided to invite that man Linder over to say that after all we won’t be taking the house my mama bought for our family in Clybourne Park. If I’m being honest I think that my family is mad, well upset at me for my decisions lately, but I don’t care because I’m doing what’s best for my family. We heard a knock at the door, and I figured it must be him, and it was so of course we let the man in. He sat down and we were having a serious talk while mama and Beneatha were putting their opinions in the conversation. We were talking about how the best thing might be not to move in after all his reaction kind of set me over the edge because he looked to happy, while on the other hand my families were not. That was when I made the final decision which was to move into the house my mama bought, so I told him that we were taking the house, and that was it. My family was very happy, and so I told them let’s start packing, and the tension started to fade away.
Failure isn’t always something you have control of or have the ability to predict. Failure seems to happen at the worst of times; however we need to accept it, because you cannot always win. My greatest failure would be tearing my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), my junior year in a lacrosse game, through no fault of my own in which my body physically failed me, but it truly changed my aspect of life in multiple ways.
We bonded on the concept of fake Amicis. Even when I opened up that much, I still wasn’t fully comfortable. I realized that I haven’t even said his name once in the past few months. I finally understood that I have to learn how to be alone. I have to learn how to live without someone telling me what to do or helping me, but because of these experiences, I don’t know
Summer vacation, and school ends for about three months, and then you have as much fun as you can, then back to school… right? Well I had to go to summer school, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Everything was going fine, I had a job after summer school, and that was going fine as well. They say that summer is supposed to be fun and exciting, and it usually is for me and my family. However in July my father started coughing up blood. My father usually doesn’t make it his top priority to go to the doctors, so he waited about four weeks until he really didn’t feel good.
Even before I was old enough to comprehend what my pastor was saying--being in church on Sunday’s wasn’t a choice. As I’ve grown, one thing I’m most proud of is how my attendance in church all of those Sunday’s has influenced my spiritual growth, personality,
“Sunday Morning” by Wallace Stevens is a poem about a woman having a late breakfast and thinking about the purpose of religion. Stevens wants the readers to ask themselves the questions that the woman asks, and to explore their feelings towards Christianity. He also wants to spark an awareness of nature. The first stanza asks the first tentative questions before launching into a racy debate in the later stanzas.
On the way home, tears of frustration again stung my eyes. There was no stopping them. Another "being stood up" mark was added to the ever growing list. This one had pierced my heart and the resolve of my soul was to never date again. Thus, the book of dating was slammed shut and the key sank to the bottom of the pool.
There is a point in everyone’s life when they step back and realize “I can’t do this anymore, it’s ruining my life”. Many of my friends have started smoking cigarettes while drinking at a very young age, and continue to use this drug currently and don’t realize the affect it has on their future. While I have been smart enough to avoid smoking, I haven’t been as wise at making decisions when it comes to drinking. The amount of partying I’ve done in college has taken over my life, and has had a huge impact on my grades. Changing my drinking habits and continuing to avoid cigarettes will enable me to be the best I can be for the rest of my college experience.
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,
My lungs filled with thick, sticky fog at three o’clock in the morning. It made the morning look vile and shivering. My hands were cold as ice. I am just about to get in my boyfriend’s blue jetta. I had a feeling in my stomach that I shouldn’t have got in his car. Of coarse I denied my self-conscious. Drugs and alcohol are flowing through our tired bodies. I was so eager to get into my warm bed. My friend Kyle had to work in a couple of hours so I told him that we would give him a ride home. I sensed his jealousy escalating as soon as he started to drive. I decided to ignore him and that seemed to make the moment worst. As soon as we dropped off our friend Kyle he accelerated at full speed toward our next destination. At one point I became a victim of his anxiety. I didn’t know what to expect next. As he parked his car on the side of the road he yelled at me to leave his car at once. I refused.