Life is Like a Box of Chocolates- Original Writing

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Life is Like a Box of Chocolates- Original Writing The Beginning That terrible, traumatic event happened during the early hours of 2nd January 1988. My mother was rushed to hospital, screaming and howling with severe pain and agony, my father right by her side. Taken into a room, shielded from sight, her yells could be heard haunting the halls of the hospital for hours after. A few surgeons, and a couple of hours later, the inevitable happened. I was born. And so it began. The crying, the dirty nappies, the constant attention.... looking after me wasn’t easy. Or so I’m told. I can’t really remember much from my younger years. This is probably because (as my cousin admitted to me a couple of months ago), I was frequently dropped on my head when I was younger (by accident of course!). But, from what I do remember, I seemed to be quite a happy child. Being the first born child to my parents, I was bathed in love and happiness. That lasted a good couple of years until both of my brothers were born. Then I watched as I was shoved to the back and they took the limelight. But I didn’t mind…the attention was beginning to bother me anyway. First day at school ================ I can’t remember much of the years I spent at playgroup and nursery. But my first day is something is something I will never forget. I remember that day because it was my first day of freedom. Free from parental guidance and restrictions for one whole day...well, at least until lunchtime. That was good enough for me. My mum left me at the gates, weeping about “finally taking my own footsteps”...or something like that. I remember my first ever teacher, Miss. Cox. She was covered in sickly, sweet smelling perfume and had a face that was overly caked in some sort of white powder-which I later

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