I have always imagined heartbreak as something that happens after a bad breakup. Something that leaves me hating men and crying my eyes out while eating a pint of my favorite ice cream. It is how it happens in the movies. It is how they tell it in the stories. Maybe that is how it goes for most people, but not for me. In seventh grade, I got my first taste of heartbreak when my godfather died. Being woken up late on Valentine and being told that someone you love has given up his fight against cancer is never painless. However, years later I experienced my first true body aching and mind-shattering heartbreak. It happened on May 5, 2015, my sophomore year of high school. My day happened as usual. I got up, I went to school, and I got off the bus. It was hot that day, my back burned and dampened with sweat, caused by the hot Texas sun. I came in and threw my neon orange backpack down exhausted by the short walk from the bus stop to my back door. After getting inside, I grabbed my dog's leash and hooked it to her collar to drag her outside and walk her. We slowly made our way back inside after she finished taking her time and doing her business. I walked inside and checked the time displayed below the television and walked to the kitchen to fill the black kettle …show more content…
The time went by slowly as my family and I waited for the fire to get put out. Eventually, the questions came at me in a wave "are you okay?" "What happened?" How do you answer if you are okay when you watched everything you owned disappear at once? How do you answer what happened when you were the one who turned on the stove? I felt defeated. I should never have turned on the stove. I should never have filled that stupid black kettle with water. It was my fault that people lost what they worked for. I had lost something that I cherished and caused other people the same pain I was feeling. I was
My middle school’s dean smiles while handing me my certificate. I gave her my best fake smile and stood in line with the rest of my classmates who made the honor roll. I put my medal around my neck, held my certificate in my left hand, and put my right arm behind my back. I can’t believe I left my jacket in my mom’s car.
Montag, Beatty and the rest of the firemen expected it to be just another burning. They did not expect an unidentified woman to commit suicide, along with burning her books. As the firemen attempted to save the woman, she told them to “go on.” Within a moment, “The woman on the porch reached out with contempt to them all and struck the kitchen match against the railing.” On the way back to the firehouse, the men didn’t speak or look at each other.
It was midmorning on Wednesday, August 28, 2014. I was in seventh grade, an A+ student, at the top of her class. When I finished my homework, I went outside to frolic with the animals. My sister was in her room like usual, the loner or as she calls herself ¨the outcasts of outcasts,¨ my grandparents next door, and my parents at work like usual. They're never home, I've began to get a habit of doing everything myself and without permission.
It all began on a Forth of July night filled with intentions for fun and fireworks. Although, the only fireworks we ended up witnessing were the reactions of our parents. Mason, Hunter and Maisy came over to my house to discuss plans for the night. In the mids of discussion, they elected me as their designated driver. After we figured out all the details to our night, we headed out to my car and jumped in to go out to
My day was going well. I devoured a big breakfast, my brother, for once, got out of the shower quick, and no major assignment was pending. Life was very, very good. Then life began to fall into oblivion. I saw on the board in the front of Mrs. Smith's room the journal entry for the day. It was about what would I write about in a narrative essay. Hope faded away. Somewhere on the planet a nuclear bomb went. An earthquake struck in some unknown place on the Earth. A volcano erupted on Jupiter's moon Io and killed a bunch of Ionians. Somebody's red rose just wilted and the petals fell onto the ground. The end of the world was indeed upon us. My jaw dropped and warning bells went off in my head. I went completely and utterly blank. I tried as hard as I could to write my journal. Channel One came on and talked about a nuclear bomb going off in India that caused an earthquake that somehow caused a volcano to erupt on Io (that killed a bunch of aliens). My jaw dropped once again. It was now the floor. As I was finishing my journal, Mrs. Smith went to the front of the room and talked about, du du du, narrative papers. She gave us a cold, white study guide that gave me no hope for survival. She then gave us another evil sheet of pap...
I woke up Tuesday morning excited for the day I was going to spend with my mom. I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking fresh coffee listening to my mom and aunt tease and joke around about how paranoid my mom was about doing well in her classes, my aunt was telling her that maybe now that I was there, she would relax a little bit and have some fun. Our plan was to go to one of mom's classes with her, and then on a tour of UNC and then we were going to go to dinner and a movie.
It was the last Saturday in December of 1997. My brother, sister, and I were chasing after each other throughout the house. As we were running, our parents told us to come and sit down in the living room. They had to tell us something. So, we all went down stairs wondering what was going on. Once we all got down stairs, the three of us got onto the couch. Then, my mom said, “ Well…”
Everyone blew out a breath. It’s daunting—when I think about what I’m about to do, I get a churning feeling in my stomach. Was this the right idea? Yesterday, another church was burned down, people inside no more than ash. Is that going to be me in a few days?
Through the next couple of days our family went through some of the coping stages. We experienced anger because we did not know the severity of the damage, we were depressed and then we had to come to accept God’s will. Ann was a devout Christian and we found comfort of knowing where she was going to.
Salty tears of frustration streamed down my checks into the steaming mineral water that surrounded me. No one noticed; no one cared. I was just another stranger in the crowd drifting along in Glenwood Pool. There was only one difference; I was alone. Everyone else in the pool seemed to have someone, and everywhere I looked couples were kissing! If someone had been surveying the whole thing they would have found happiness in every corner ... then they would have seen me; sulking in my corner of the pool with fat, old, wrinkly, bald men swimming past me repeatedly.
Love is a difficult concept to comprehend. There are different types of love-being in love, being out of love, and simply loving someone. Being in love and loving someone are completely different. Being in love allows the ability to fall out of love. Falling out of love is tough. One day, the feelings of love just won’t feel the same and there will be no explanation. Once you simply just love someone, the feelings never fade. The hardest and most emotional love there is, is being out of love with someone. Being out of love with someone is when one is absolutely, head over heels in love with someone, and the other person doesn’t feel the same. No matter how much you are fatally and relentlessly in love with them, it hurts more than any other
My daddy said that the first time you fall in love, it changes you forever and no matter how hard you try that feeling will never go away. In every relationship, you will experience good and bad moments with each other as a couple. There will be times when you may not need any advice, but would need a hand to hold, an ear to listen and a heart to understand them. First love is always the best memory and feeling that anyone could ever have and in time creates a powerful impact in a person’s life. The saying “love is blind” for instance, doesn’t literally mean that you will get blinded by love. What it really means is that when you are in love with someone and they aren’t appreciative of the love and affection that you
It was in the beginning of 2010. I graduated to tenth grade, the senior year of the school. My emotions were driven by both anxiety and exultation. Since the final score in the tenth grade was a yardstick of our knowledge-gained and hard-work done throughout our schooling, all of us were concerned. However, the feeling of freedom after the tenth grade kept us elated. Those memories are quite vivid in my memory.
It was December 4, 2014 and it was snowing outside. I was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework. All my family was downstairs, so I was all alone. My English teacher told us to write a paper about how I am different from my classmates. I was thinking about what in my life makes me different and slowly my whole life was playing like a movie in my head. The first memory that popped into my head was my fourth birthday party. It was supposed to be the best birthday ever. My dad was going to come. It was February 24, 2002 at my birthday party. There were so many people there, but I was so focused on my dad coming, no one else seemed to matter. My cake was pink and yellow with a bicycle on it. I had a red and blue inflatable that kids were
My heart was simply ripped apart. I could not believe it at first, but I knew I had to. After all these wonderful years and enthralling moments, I finally have to face God's greatest challenge. My mind wasn't as messy as before anymore and I couldn't even think of what to think. It seemed as if I had nothing to worry about, nothing to do, nothing to say. I was trapped inside this room waiting for the Grim Reaper to reap my innocent soul.