Its the June long weekend in 1995 my family has decided to go to Langley Woodlands for a family get away. We packed the car up mum and dad in the front, and me, Lillie and good old barney in the back seat watching movies before we decided to rip out each others brains before we even got there. Not long after we fell asleep in the bad until we arrived to the place. Once we arrived we woke up to the scenery of tress, paths and a big house. Lillee and i rushed inside as soon as the front door opened to this big amazing house, it was like a dream. We rushed up the stairs even barney followed he was just excited as us to check our rooms out, once we stepped inside our rooms i knew it wasn't just a Woodhouse it was a magical Woodhouse there was …show more content…
Lillie had fallen asleep as she was exhausted from all the running around and adventuring we did, it was good to spend some quality time without fighting with her. It was around 11o’clock Lillie woke up to barney barking at something but couldn't see anything, she looked over to see her tooth was gone, and the tooth fairy didn't just leave money it left magic dust/glitter as well and a note that said “dont be afraid to come back to the magical garden” she saw something leave her room like a sparkle which barney continued to follow. The next morning Lillie rushed into my room and asked to go back to the treehouse as the note that was left behind. We rushed out of bed down stairs before mum and dad woke up and ran to the bridge, crossed it to enter the garden to see it was one big magical garden with fairies, we raced up into the treehouse to see this one fairy that i decided to capture in a jar to take home. At first Lillie didn't agree with me as she said you cant take something that doesn't belong to you but she loved the idea to have a imaginary friend that they will adore and to remember the experiment of the family holiday. We raced back to the house before mum and dad got up, and sat at the table waiting for them to wake up to show them the amazing creature we caught and that we were taking it home, even barney jumped up with excitement to this, our parents actually said yes and there was no arguments about it. We put everything in the car ready to leave, after that weekend away Lillie and i got along differently and didn't fight all the
I remember it was Freshman year [in high school] and all the upper class lacrosse girls told us to meet at one of the girl’s houses because we were going to go to a party. We met up there, and got into three different cars and started driving. The van I was in had 6 other girls in it and I was pretty good friends with the senior driving it so it didn’t take long for the senior to tell us that we weren’t really going to a party – and that we were going to go visit an abandoned insane asylum. I had never heard of Glenn Dale Hospital and the entire trip, we were told of how many unexplainable deaths used to occur at the hospital and how if you go there today, you can still hear the screams of the patients throughout the halls. I don’t remember what road we ended up on, but next thing I knew – it was all of us freshman walking through a long field seeing a large building in front of us. The closer we got… the slower we walked. We started talking about everything we had heard in the trip up. One girl mentioned that there are still bodies and papers left in the hospital and that the place was abandoned after the workers refused to keep working there after so many inexplicable deaths. Another mentioned that there are always cops patrolling the place and you can get arrested for trespassing. Ironically, as soon as the girl finished talking about the cop, we heard a loud voice from the other side of the building.
Hello. I am Daniel Gardner. My story today sets back a few years ago in a car. I look out the window from the back seat to see a beautiful blue sky with pearly white clouds scattered across the sky like dice. The sun glows across the sky like a beacon of hope. It reflects off of the sand as if it is beaming off of glass. The luscious variety of green grass with the bountiful palm trees sway softly with the breeze. The light turns green and we start to fly past it all as if time speeds up. we pull into the driveway to see not a beach house. But a mansion. We walk in and see the decor of the house as if angels have come through and done it themselves. We were finally on vacation.
I can’t remember ever living anywhere before living on Lantern Drive. It was a cozy neighborhood and everyone knew each other… which was also a downside when drama arose. The street was a cul-de-sac consisting of about twenty houses, I could tell you who lived in each house. My living arrangements were different than most kids in my town, but I didn’t mind. When you’re young the differences in your life don’t strike you as being a problem, which is quite lovely. I lived with my Step-Grandmother and my Grandfather. I called them “Mawmaw” and “Papa”. I know that you’re supposed to spell it “Pawpaw” but it will never be that to me. The house was small, old, and run down, but it has been
This house has a unique brick color, a sort of pink and green. An uphill driveway leading to two small one car garages, one garage filled with years of a mixture of items and the other holds my grandma’s car and two of her fridges cram packed with stew of components. The side walk leads to a screen door, which is always locked, and a large think wood door which is cracked. When I walk in I smell flowers and sweets, then I feel the cold tile tough my feet only for a moment until the fluffy carpet is met with your feet. One of my favorite things is when I walk in I see my grandmas smiling face, she is always so happy and it just warms my heart to see her. Any time I see her house or think about it the warmth of her hugs and smiling face overwhelms me no matter how mad or sad I am I always smile. In the back corner of the house is the bed room converted to a game room, where all the kid’s toys are located. That’s where I would sleep when I stayed there. The kitchen is tiny but perfect for just one little perfect person. It has an electric stove top with four burners and a typical oven below. Next to that is her fridge stocked with her diet cokes with a freezer on top and a microwave
Because of some of the circumstances that make me who I am, it is hard to say I have any one definitive home. Instead, I have had two true homes, ever since I was a young child. What makes this even more of a conundrum is that my homes have always had little in common, even though they are only a few hundred miles apart. Between the big city of Houston, Texas, and the small town of Burns Flat, Oklahoma, I have grown up in two very different towns that relate to one another only in the sense that they have both raised me.
Me, my brother and parents are the only ones that have ever been here and it is a 8 hour ride from the closet town. BAM! I hear a loud noise that had to of come from the cabin, I sprint through the thick snow as fast as I can to the cabin to investigate the noise. The front door of the cabin is ever so slightly cracked open. Using my foot I slowly push the door and with a slow settle squeaking sound of the old hinges. I peep my head inside but all I can see is darkness. Thinking in my head that there is nothing inside I take a few steps into the cabin, a strong cold gust of wind slams the door shut and I am left in absolute darkness. The sound of a pitch fork being dragged on the ground was coming from upstairs with a constant thud of someone walking. I shuffle to the closet wall I can find and I run my hands along the wall as I walk until I find the stairs that lead to the second story of the cabin. Step by step I make my way up the stairs as the floorboards squeak underneath me. At the top of the stairs there is a long hallway that my brothers room is at the end of. The light of the moon pierces through the
It was finally fall break. I was visiting my grandma for a few days. Well past dinnertime, I pulled up to the white stately home in northern rural Iowa. I parked my car, unloaded my bag and pillow, and crunched through the leaves to the front porch. The porch was just how I had seen it last; to the right, a small iron table and chairs, along with an old antique brass pole lamp, and on the left, a flowered glider that I have spent many a summer afternoon on, swaying back and forth, just thinking.
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…”
On that fateful day in March, I was a couple months shy of my third birthday. My family and I lived in New Mexico at the time and were renting a house with an outdoor in-ground pool. The day was beautiful. I was outside with my oldest sister Rachel and my father. Rachel was diligently reading curled up on a bench that sat against the house, and my father was mowing the backyard. My mother and my other sister were in the house. Off to one side of the house there was a group of large bushes. I was playing over there with one of her large cooking pots, off in my own little world. At one point while amusing and en...
My parents and I jumped into our 1989 blue Aerostar van. My brother was away on a camping trip, so it was just the three of us. The 20-minute drive felt like two hours, and I can remember every second of it. We drove up to the shelter on a smooth paved road that went up to a hill. An empty pasture was on our left side and an old cemetery was on our right. The shelter looked like a small prison. It stood alone in the middle of an open field, surrounded by fence. We jumped out of our van and headed up the walkway.
A red brick house on top of a small hill is where my memories reside. A slightly curved gravel road led to the front of the house. Eight or nine rose brown apple trees randomly covered the plush green lawn. Down the small hill, muddy brown water trickled down a ditch with cattails surrounding it. One enormous willow tree sat in the background, to the right of the house, to complete the picture. It almost seemed like a picture from a postcard. But when you're a kid none of this really matters. All that really matters to you is to have as much fun as possible. My memories don't come just from this beautiful picture but from the little things making it.
There was no lawn, but there were four flower planters. The house was painted all white, with the exception of the front door that was painted light green. My grandfather was still young, strong, and full of life, he always had time to play with his grandchildren. Every Sunday he would take us to the park, would buy us ice cream, and take us to Sunday mass. On the day when this picture was taken, we were celebrating my 10th birthday, and I was dancing with my grandfather. I cannot remember the song, but I do remember what he told me while dancing slowly. He said “My little girl” how he used to call me,” in five years you won’t be a little girl, you will become a young lady.” At that moment I could not understand what he meant, but in my mind I was saying “grandpa I will always be your little girl.” While dancing, he made me a promise, “My little girl on your 15th birthday, I will dance the first song with you.” Who would know that he was going to die on my 15th birthday year, he passed away on June 21th, 1987 on Father’s Day. He left me with so many beautiful memories, but the most important was my first dance on my 10th birthday. On the night before my 15th birthday, I went to bed around 10 p.m. I was feeling depressed, because I was only thinking of the promise that my grandfather had made in the past. A promise that in my mind was not going to
Christmas had just passed and the New Year of 1998 was approaching fast. My parents had always bickered but this time their fights seemed to escalate to almost a straight-out brawl. That night I was to go out on a date with my soon-to-be boyfriend. My dad didn’t think too highly of this. Hours passed as normal and I was leaving with my date to go to the movies. My mind was set at ease about my squalling parents as I watched Mortal Combat 2 at the theatre. When I got home my parents were already in bed and that’s where I was also headed. Before I had a chance to change into to pajamas the phone had rang. It was Chris the guy I had gone out with that night calling to reminisce about our fist date we had just been on. We talked for about two hours, growing tiresome and worried that my dad might get up for a drink of water and catch me on the phone at midnight, I told Chris I had to go. So I said my good-byes and went to bed thinking about how boring it was gonna be to go back to school the next day.
I remember the visit like it was yesterday. The year was 1990, and it was the month of June. I hadn’t been off for more than two weeks, and I was bored out of my mind. It really takes a lot to keep a seven year old busy. That’s when it happened. My dad told me that tomorrow we would be going to visit somewhere special. He told me that he also visited this place when he was a kid. I remember the night before we left, I couldn’t sleep at all.
Once upon a time, I saw the world like I thought everyone should see it, the way I thought the world should be. I saw a place where there were endless trials, where you could try again and again, to do the things that you really meant to do. But it was Jeffy that changed all of that for me. If you break a pencil in half, no matter how much tape you try to put on it, it'll never be the same pencil again. Second chances were always second chances. No matter what you did the next time, the first time would always be there, and you could never erase that. There were so many pencils that I never meant to break, so many things I wish I had never said, wish I had never done. Most of them were small, little things, things that you could try to glue back together, and that would be good enough. Some of them were different though, when you broke the pencil, the lead inside it fell out, and broke too, so that no matter which way you tried to arrange it, they would never fit together and become whole again. Jeff would have thought so too. For he was the one that made me see what the world really was. He made the world into a fairy tale, but only where your happy endings were what you had to make, what you had to become to write the words, happily ever after. But ever since I was three, I remember wishing I knew what the real story was.