The tears continued to flow down my face like a never ending waterfall. The lump in my throat wouldn 't seem to budge and the emptiness in my heart was unbearable. I stared at my refelection as I prepared myself for what was supposed to be one of the most memorable days of my life, the first day of my senior year in highschool. But my puffy eyes, heavy eye bags, and pale complextion stated otherwise. I took a slow breathe and closed my eyes pretending this was all but a horrible nightmare. My whole body felt numb and I wanted to scream out so loud but with the little strength I had I kept everything inside accepting my new devastating reality. My aunt had passed away and there was nothing, absoulately nothing anyone could do to bing her back and that was the undienable truth. …show more content…
The words echoed through my head over and over again like a broken record. It was my fathers voice he was whimpering as he spoke "There was nothing that the doctors could do anymore, she 's gone." That was all I needed to hear, I wanted to tell my dad that we were going to get through this and everything was going to be alright, but nothing would come out. In seconds my eyes swelled up and the tears began to unravel as everything around me stopped and the phone slid through my fingers falling onto the ground along with my heart. Devastation was felt all throughout my body and I was angry at the world and myself for not being able to bring her back. The reason of her death a blood clot, it is unbelievable how things can drastically change in a matter of days. Her unexpected death hurt twice as much proving that death can happen in an instant without any warning. I understood that I was not the only one suffering and that moments like these I had to remain strong and pull through with the love and support of family and friends. I held on to the bit of hope I had left in
When I was in middle school I thought life was just full of joy and I really did not have
Everyone has dream in life. Some people have a dream to visit different places and some people want to become successful in future. Likewise I also had a dream to come USA and to become successful in future. I was 17 when I came here with my parents. I heard a lot from my friends about their first day in USA. They said it was so sad however mine was the best day and the long day in my life which I can’t ever forget. I still remember that day in USA; I was sleeping in the airplane because I was so tired of traveling 18 hours flight. I was in a deep sleep suddenly I heard someone was calling my name because of that I wake up. It was my mom who was calling me. She told me to look outside I rub my eyes and looked outside. I still remember that moment when I first looked California, USA through plane window, those tall building which I saw in movies looks like a plane ground. I was so excited to be here in USA I feel like it is a piece of heaven.
The ride home had been the most excruciating car ride of my life. Grasping this all new information, coping with grief and guilt had been extremely grueling. As my stepfather brought my sister and I home, nothing was to be said, no words were leaving my mouth.Our different home, we all limped our ways to our beds, and cried ourselves to sleep with nothing but silence remaining. Death had surprised me once
My niece walked up to the tree to sing a song while my uncle spread her ashes, and we all sat on the trailer awaiting her final departure. She started to sing, and then the ashes flew. It was windy that day and it carried her ashes much further than intended; this made me very emotional. I kept thinking, “that’s my grandma; she’s just a pile of dust flying in the air.” I began to cry hysterically to the point where I couldn’t breathe or see. “She was a person, I could have spent more time with her, what if she didn’t know how much I loved her?”, were the words that kept repeating in my mind. My whole family was in shock at how badly I was taking it, especially since I was not close to her. I, myself, couldn’t even grasp why it was tearing me apart so badly, and then it hit me; she died knowing that I had gone nowhere in my life; she died and was never able to feel proud of me; she died with the belief I will always be the person I was. This was the turning point that would change my life
The first day of school is always very stressful and full of fear for the incoming underclassmen. Going back is usually a complex process for the students, as well as for the parents. It’s the time of the year where the halls are full of not-so-cheerful students aching to exit the corridors, along with teachers attempting to fill their tired heads with useful information. While getting back to school is supposed to be a great thing; due to seeing friends, freshmen are living a horror movie during their first day of high school.
I found the week as a whole a fun, new experience. It was great to meet new people that I may never would have met before joining this class. I am very gracious to have chosen to be a part of this great new experience. This first week allowed me to learn many new things that I did not know before about our friends. The week also showed me many new ways to play games and workout with the integration of dance. I learned how to do some yoga techniques, new stretches, and some new muscle strengthening exercises. The week also helped to improve my leadership skills and collaboration skills. The first week gave me a great first impression and through that impression, I can tell the rest of the semester will be just as great as the first week.
A little girl goes to school for the first time wearing a blue striped t-shirt, blue jean shorts, and a brand new pair of sneakers. She wakes up early, fearful, excited, but mostly giddy. For such a little girl, she is exceptionally intelligent. She is ready to learn and has been asking her Mommy when this day would come for what has felt like a life time in kid years. Her mother did her hair in pigtails for the occasion, her outfit was laid out a week ahead, and her backpack had been packed for weeks. Her first day would have been amazing. Her new teacher asked each student what they wanted to be when they grew up. The girl said, “I want to be a soldier.” She was proud of the soldiers, her Grandpa was a soldier. But something happened, the teacher said, “You can’t do that, pick something else. You’re just a girl.”
This type of cancer, I had later learned, was incurable and would take no longer than half a year to steal my father away. Over the months his health quickly began to deteriorate; the only thing I could do was watch in anguish and pray that God gave me the strength to push through the heartache and hopelessness that was overcoming me. The last few days I spent with my father were the hardest days of my life. He wasn’t the daddy that had raised me; instead, he could barely form a sentence correctly or even walk on his own. This was never the way he wanted to be remembered, yet these moments are the ones that stick with me and hurt me the most. I stuck by his side in his bed for two days straight. With my arms wrapped around him, I could feel his chest go up and down as I followed his breathing pattern; I wished in silence that it would never cease, but wishes don’t always come true. Being as a few hours later, with family gathered around, I whispered my last “goodbye” and “I love you” to the first man I had ever loved. He was gone. God had called him home and with him he took a piece of my heart that can never be fully
It is August 2012. I’m rocking back and forth in my recliner, smoking a cigarette. I’m alone in my apartment, surrounded by fast-food trash. Trash on the table, trash on the floor. Trash everywhere. In between drags of my cigarette, I try to suppress a gargling cough that is creeping out of my lungs and into my throat. I do not want to cough. I do not want to be sick again. But I know I am. It is bronchitis and it is my third bout of it this year. I know that I need to quit smoking temporarily in order to get over the bronchitis. Like most smokers, I am always trying to quit. I think to myself, if I have to quit for a few days anyway, knowing that the first few days are the hardest part; maybe I should use this opportunity to quit for good.
Going into college I thought everything was going to be a breeze. Actually, I thought it would be just like high school. I quickly found out that, that wasn’t the case. It was so many different people. The setting wasn’t something I was used to at all. You know how in high school majority of the people were goofy not really focused on what they should be focused on? Here it was the total opposite. Everyone was ready to learn and do something with their lives. In high school we never started learning on the first day or even in the first week. I wish it was the same! Then coming home after a long day to nobody at all telling you to clean this, do that, help your sister with this, but actually coming to your room of peace and quiet. All together
Eighteen years ago on October 27th, 1997, my parents welcomed me into this crazy world. My mother and father were overwhelmed with joy, and my older sister, who was four at the time, was too. My parents had picked my name out months before I was even born. Rebeka Morgan Tratchel, not your typical spelling for Rebeka, but my mom thought it was unique and wanted me to be different. I was born in the great state of Florida in a small town known as Jacksonville. My father had been stationed here for only a few months before my arrival and my mother and older sister, Meaghan, had only been living there for a few weeks. They all thought I would not arrive until November 4th, but little did they know I would come a little early.
I remember the first day of my English class like it was yesterday. Term one just started and the class is waiting for the teacher to come. I remember looking down and seeing someone with sandals and was kind of confused, but brushed it off. I felt like every single teacher was going to leave, just like the first year at Jackson Preparatory and Early College. I found myself in a place where I didn’t know if I could trust teachers, because all my life I felt no need to, and didn’t find any reason to talk to them whenever I needed advice or if I had a problem. Every time I found that I liked a teacher, a couple weeks later, they just left without notice. At Jackson Preparatory and Early College, the very first year, we had a staff issue. We slowly
Two years and four months ago I died. A terrible condition struck me, and I was unable to do anything about it. In a matter of less than a year, it crushed down all of my hopes and dreams. This condition was the death of my mother. Even today, when I talk about it, I burst into tears because I feel as though it was yesterday. I desperately tried to forget, and that meant living in denial about what had happened. I never wanted to speak about it whenever anyone would ask me how I felt. To lose my Mom meant losing my life. I felt I died with her. Many times I wished I had given up, but I knew it would break the promise we made years before she passed away. Therefore, I came back from the dead determined and more spirited than before.
“Beep, Beep, Beep!” It was six o’clock in the morning and my alarm clock woke me up 4to prepare for the first day of my Senior Year. I slowly arose from my deep sleep and strolled toward my closet as if I were a snail. After twenty minutes of contemplating heavily, I finally reached a decision on my outfit. My outfit consisted of a navy blue and light brown elephant print kimono, a pure white blouse, light brown flats, and a silver triangle shaped Aztec necklace. To my surprise the clock struck a quarter to seven, leaving me only moments left to get ready. I jumped into the shower and then prepared for the day I had ahead of me.
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...